Don't Piss Off Demon Dean

This story takes place during Season 10, episode 1, after the pole dancer Dean is watching slaps his hand away and looks at him disdainfully.

Dean waited patiently outside the club for the stripper to get off her shift. When he saw her emerge with two other girls, he watched as she talked with her friends, until they all went to separate cars. Within two seconds he was in front of her, and before she had a chance to even be startled he had punched her in the face, knocking her out cold.

When she came to, she couldn't move. She was totally naked and tied down spread eagle on a motel bed. The room was almost dark, but not totally. She could see someone sitting in the motel room chair.

"Oh good, you're awake," he said emotionless. He got up and walked closer to her. "Remember me?" he asked her calmly.

"You're the guy from the club, the one who tried to touch me. The one who beat up Harry," she said, struggling to keep the rising panic down.

"Very good," he said. "You don't know it yet, but you made a very big mistake back there. You could have made a lot of money. I can be very generous." He poured himself a drink and downed it, setting the glass back down on the table. "But you insulted me, looked at me as though I was three day old garbage." He scoffed. "You dance for my money. Spread your legs and shove your snatch into my face, and you think you're better than me?"

"I am better than you, and you're going to be dead garbage when my three brothers discover I'm late getting home. They're very big and strong, and very protective of me."

Dean laughed out loud at that. "You really have no clue who you're dealing with, do you. Or more accurately, what you're dealing with." He let his eyes go black as he smiled maliciously at her.

She felt afraid then, though she didn't exactly know why. But it was suddenly harder for her to maintain her strong façade. "What are you?" she asked, almost in a whisper.

He smiled evilly at her as he said, "I'm a demon, Bitch. In fact, I'm the most demonish demon on the planet." He stopped for effect as his smile widened. "And you pissed me off. I don't take that from anyone, because I don't have to."

She was feeling truly frightened now. He was speaking to her in a conversational tone that was all the more chilling for it's non-threatening flavor. She asked timidly, "Wh.. What are you going to do with me?"

"Anything I want." He pulled out an ugly looking weapon, some kind of horrible blade that looked like it had teeth on it.

"Are you going to kill me?" she asked.

"No," he said. "But you'll probably wish I would before we're done. We're gonna have some fun, you and me." Her eyes moved to the door.

"No use looking to the door, no one is going to rescue you. See, I can't be killed. So you better hope those brothers of yours don't manage to find us, because unless you have any sisters, you'd end up an only child."

He demonstrated his invulnerability by slicing through his palm and letting her watch it heal. She gasped at that as her eyes widened. "Just to clarify, in case you're too stupid to put it all together. I'm a monster, and tonight, you're going to be at my mercy. Oh wait, I forgot," he said laughing out loud at his own wit. "I don't have any."

He paced back and forth at the foot of the bed, enjoying her fear as her eyes followed his movements. "You know the bad thing about choices?" he asked her casually. "They always come with consequences. Sometimes you know what they will be. Most of the time though," he shrugged, "you really don't"

He walked to the table and poured another drink. He walked back to the bed with the drink in his hand. "So what we're going to do is play a little game. You like games?" He paused. "That was a question, Bitch." When she realized he actually wanted an answer, she nodded.

"Oh good, then. So as I was saying." He took a drink of his whisky. "This is a game about choices. And like all games, it has rules. So here they are. I'm going to give you some choices between two things, and you're going to pick one. Simple right?" Again she nodded.

"Now here's where the consequences come in. If you take too long making your choice, then I'm gonna do both things. If you scream out at anytime, I'm gonna do both things. If you don't make me believe you're happy with your choice, I'm gonna do both things." He finished his drink, set the glass back down and returned. "Do you understand the rules?" She nodded. He cupped his hand around his ear and leaned forward a little. "What was that, I didn't hear you?"

"Yes," she said, whimpering.

He smiled at her then. "See how easy that was? Isn't it nice when two reasonable people can come to a mutual understanding?"

The pleasant, conversational way he was talking to her filled her with icy terror, and she was visibly trembling. She nodded, even though she wasn't sure he was actually looking for a response from her that time.

"So here's your first choice." He grinned, raised his eyebrows, spread his hands and asked, "You ready?" Again she nodded. "As a dancer, which foot would you say is more important? The right one or the left one?"

She had no idea what he was looking for but she was terrified of taking too long, so she quickly whimpered "The right one."

"The right one. Makes sense. So if I were to ask you which one you want me to cut, which one would that be?"

Her eyes widened with even more terror and she whimpered even more loudly, taking deep breaths to try to keep herself from crying out. "Huh?," he said. "I didn't quite catch that."

"Left," she said, "The left one. Oh God."

He watched her eyes follow his as he reached down and picked up her left foot. Very casually, he made a slice in the sole of her foot from just below the toes to the end of her heel. Not really deep, but enough to draw blood. She clamped her teeth together and let out a muffled scream. He waited.

"Hmm," he said, as he scratched his face, pretending to think. "You got rule number one okay, you made a quick choice. You got rule number two okay, you didn't scream out too loud... Good job on that by the way... But rule number three, well, I'm not convinced you're very happy with your choice." He took a step towards her other foot, and she began vigorously nodding. He made a questioning gesture with his hand and said, "So you're happy with your choice, is that what you're saying?" She continued to nod. "Then say it," he said, in a commanding tone.

"I… I'm happy with.. my choice," she managed to get out, tears streaming down the sides of her face.

He sighed. "Oh well, it's the first one, I suppose it will do. Though I expect you to be much more convincing as we continue."

"I'm Sorry," she cried.

Again, he went and poured himself another drink. "Sorry for what?" he asked, pleasantly.

"I'm sorry I offended you!" she cried, "I'm so sorry. Please."

"Oh I'm sure you are," he said. "Now." He finished his drink in one swig, licked his lips and set the glass back down again. "But see, here's the thing. I don't think you're sorry enough yet." This made her cry a little harder, and he said. "Do you need a break?" he asked, almost sounding like he cared." She nodded.

"Okay, I can understand that. What shall we do while we're waiting?" he said, pretending to think. "I have it!" he exclaimed. "I'm horny," he said. "Are you horny?"

The question took her so much by surprise that all she did was stare with her widened eyes for a moment. Like a flash he was at her side, the blade at her throat. "I asked you a question, Bitch!" he said, viciously, between clenched teeth. "Answer it... Are. You. Horny?"

As she had done before, she nodded vigorously. He removed the blade from her throat and wandered slowly back to the end of the bed. "But you know what? I just realized...I don't really give a shit if you're horny or not. He moved swiftly towards her again, holding out the knife, which made her almost cry out too loud. But all he did was cut the bonds holding her hand to the bed. He walked around her then, freeing her completely from the bed.

"Get down on the floor, on your knees," he said, as he downed another drink, "and crawl to me." She did as she was told. "Unbuckle my belt," he ordered, "and take out my cock."

"Do you like it?" he asked, smiling, when she had him unburdened from his clothing. Again, she nodded. "Huh? Right? Lookin' good, isn't it?" he said, in a bragging way.

"Yes," she said, still nodding.

"So here's your next choice," he said. "Listen carefully. You can suck my cock, and take it all in, and you can convince me that you're loving every moment of it, or…" he said grinning viciously… "I get to slice you up as much as I want to for five minutes."

Her words tumbled out in a hurry then. "I'll suck you're cock," she said.

"You will, or you want to?"

"I want to." she answered.

"Convince me," he said. "Beg for it."

"Please," she said, trying to hold back her tears, "Please let me suck your cock. I want to do it, I'll love doing it, please…" she said, her sentence ending in sobs.

"Okay then, I'll allow you the privilege of sucking me. But if you hurt me, bite me, don't please me, or don't keep convincing me how much you're liking it, we move to choice B. Got it?"

She nodded and took his cock in both hands, guiding it into her mouth. When he felt her lips around it he grabbed her hair in both his hands and forced himself all the way into her mouth. "Still liking it, Bitch," he spat at her. He felt her try to nod, which wasn't very easy considering how tightly he was controlling her movements. He didn't like it when she began gagging, and he stopped for a moment. "Control that, Bitch, or we go to plan B." He let her take a few deep breaths and then he continued fucking her mouth until he came, spewing his cum far down into her throat and waited until she had no choice but to swallow it.

When he was finished he said "Lick me clean, Bitch, and do it like you're loving it. Let me hear some pleasure moaning." She cleaned him off with her tongue, and moaned in what she hoped sounded like pleasure. He put himself back inside his clothing and buckled his belt.

"Not too shabby," he said. "But then, I guess a whore like you has had a lot of practice at that, right?" She was still on her knees in front of him and she nodded. "Look at me," he ordered. "Tell me you're a filthy whore whose had a lot of practice sucking cock, and that you love it."

"I'm a filthy whore," she said, her voice catching a bit, "and I love sucking cock. I've had a lot of practice."

"See, I knew that. So who's the piece of garbage here?" he asked.

"I am," she said. "I'm the piece of garbage."

All of a sudden he changed gears again and said excitedly, with a happy grin, "Hey, I'm hungry. Are you hungry?"

It took her only a second to catch up with him and do her nodding routine. "I have some leftover pizza," he said. "I'll just nuke it for a minute. You stay, like a good little Bitch."

He went to the microwave and heated up the half a pizza that was inside it, and came back to the table. He pulled out a chair that was on the other side of where she was and sat down on it. Then he made the sound people do when they call a dog, and said, "Come here, girl, come on."

She crawled over to where he was and he pulled her against the chair rungs. "Lay down girl," he said. She laid down on the floor against his legs in the fetal position.

"Ya know," he said, pleasantly. "I'm feeling almost pleased with you. You're learning rather quickly for a dumb little Bitch." He ate a slice of his pizza while she lay there, and then he picked up another one and said, "You want some girl? Come on, sit up and beg."

By now she knew the consequences if she didn't make him happy, so she rose up on her knees, put her hands in front of her like paws and whimpered like a dog. "Good girl," he said, "here ya go," and he broke off a piece of the pizza and threw it on the floor five feet away from her. "Go get it, girl," he said.

She turned and crawled on her hands and knees to the piece of pizza and turned to look back at him. "Go, on girl, eat it," he said, encouragingly. She bent down and took the pizza off the floor in her mouth and ate it. He did this two more times until he tired of the game.

"I think it's time for another lesson in choices," he said. "What do you think?"

"Yes," she said, still on her hands and knees.

"Remember back at the club, how you didn't want me to touch you?"

"Yes," she said again.

"I'll bet you wouldn't stop me if I tried to touch you now, would you?"

"No."

"You'd like me to touch you, wouldn't you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"You'd even like me to fuck you," wouldn't you?"

"Yes."

He scoffed. You're such a filthy whore, I think you'd even like me to fuck your ass, too, wouldn't you.

"Yes,"

The game was losing it's appeal for Dean. She wasn't looking at him in fear anymore. She wasn't even crying. She was just complacently taking whatever he threw at her.

"Now here's a harder question, so think twice before answering it," he said. "Are you just doing and saying everything I tell you to, because you're afraid of me, or because you've actually learned your lesson about choices?"

"I've learned my lesson," she said. He scoffed. He could almost believe she had. He could almost believe she didn't hate him with every fiber of her being. "Get back up on the bed," he ordered.

While she got up on the bed and spread herself out, thinking he was going to do more to her, he went around the room wiping everything down to clear his prints. He packed up his stuff, and even put all his trash in a bag to take with him.

When he was all ready to go, he tied her back up, still naked. "You got off easy," he said. "I had a lot more planned, but you got boring. There's just one more lesson you need to learn."

"What lesson," she asked.

"He took out the ugly blade he'd been threatening her with and said, "Sometimes you can do all the right things and get bad consequences anyway. Know why?" he asked. She wasn't sure what he wanted her to answer, but she shook her head no.

"Demons lie," he said, and he cut a long slice down the side of her face."

He smiled in satisfaction when she cried out, and then he left the room, forgetting her almost before he got to his car.

~THE END~