This story is the result of a contest that was held in one of my private facebook groups, to write a 'smut' piece based on one of several pictures offered for inspiration. This was my entry. It is definitely rated R. You have been warned. The picture I used for inspiration can be found here:

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This is a short story Featuring Soulless Sam, after he has joined back up with Dean


Room 302 - A Soulless Sam Short Story (Rated 'R')

Sam closed the door of the second-rate motel room very quietly, and headed for his brother's Impala. For a while he had wondered how working with his brother once again after a year apart might hamper his indulgence in his new-found pleasures. But he needn't have worried. Sam was adept at sneaking out, and so far he had never been caught. And now it was even easier to do, since he didn't have to sleep.

As he opened the door of the '67 Impala and slipped in behind the wheel, he spared a moment to wonder about that for the thousandth time. Why was he never able to sleep? Ever since his return from Hell, sleeping was alien to him. And what else was he supposed to do with the long nights when there were no hunts and everyone else was sleeping?

First, it had been while he was with his grandfather and cousins and their small band of hunters. He found himself going out at night just to escape the boredom of being the only one awake. But even with Dean it was easier to do than he had thought. The only problem was, since he was with Dean they didn't often get back to anywhere near the Campbell base. Still, so far it was working, and this was the third time he was able to play his new favorite game since he had paired back up with Dean.

All his life he had been under the control of someone else, telling him what to do. First it was his dad, and then Dean. Even Ruby. Oh he'd been stupid enough to think he was making his own decisions there but too late he'd found out otherwise. Then after he got back from Hell it was Samuel, and now Dean again. But this, this was all his.

As he drove to the apartment he had rented within walking distance of the Campbell base, his body was already beginning to feel the preliminary excitement of the night to come. He wondered again why he was keeping this from his brother. But something inside him he didn't quite understand told him that even Dean, his love 'em and leave 'em brother, Dean, who always seemed to be looking for sex, wanting and needing it so much more than Sam remembered himself wanting it before his trip to Hell, even Dean would not understand or approve of his new predilection. He didn't understand why, he just knew somehow he wouldn't.

So he wended his way through the late evening fog, thinking about what, or rather who, was waiting for him in his secret lair. He pulled into the parking space reserved for his apartment, and opened his duffel bag. Reaching deep into the bag he opened a tiny lock that secured the zipper from being easily opened. It would never withstand a determined snooper, but he and Dean had always respected each other's private space, so unless he gave Dean something to be suspicious about, his special little compartment should be secure enough.

He had called ahead announcing his imminent arrival, so he knew everything would be ready for him when he got there. Now it was time to get himself ready. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, replacing it with a soft, black leather vest. The neck chains came next. He loved these, loved the feel of them laying heavy against his bare chest. Finally the gloves, black leather again, covering his hands but not his fingers. No, not his fingers. His fingers needed to be able to feel.

When he was ready he locked the car and headed up to room 302. He hesitated a moment outside the door, taking in a deep breath in anticipation of the night to come. He reached out and turned the door knob that he knew would be unlocked for him, and stepped into the room.

Soft music was playing, countless candles lit the room, scented oils were emanating a sensual fragrance. He noticed all of this with the back of his brain, as his attention was focused on the three beautiful women kneeling before him in submissive welcome. "Welcome, my Lord and Master," they all said in unison.

And there it was. The Feeling. Since he had returned from Hell, he hadn't been able to feel anything. He knew this wasn't right, he remembered having feelings before, but try as he might, he couldn't actually remember what they had felt like. Kind of like the way one remembers having been in pain without actually re-experiencing the pain itself.

But this! This he could feel. It was the feeling of Power! It was primitive, visceral, naked, and it washed through him like electricity. He stood a few minutes without speaking, letting himself bathe in the moment. These women were his, his to do with as he pleased. For eight months now, they had been his. They obeyed his every command. And they loved him for it. He wished he could love them back, and he sometimes wondered if maybe, on some level, he did.

After a moment he looked down at his women, the ones he had given even their names to; Sage, Ginger and Pepper, his spices he liked to call them. And he had to smile. In the beginning he had even told them what to wear for his visits, but soon he began allowing them to choose for themselves, to surprise him. And they never disappointed. This time they were dressed as Native American princesses, complete with accessories of beads and feathers. He was pleased.

"Get up, my Spices, and serve me," he said with a smile.

They led him to one of the couches where he sat down in the center and put his feet up on an ottoman that the raven-haired Pepper pushed over in front of him. Then she pulled off his boots and rubbed his feet. Meanwhile, Ginger, the spicy redhead, sat next to him and began feeding him strawberries while the beautiful blond he'd named Sage handed him a drink. He didn't really know if Sage was appropriate for a blond, but he liked the name. All three were giggling happily at being able to please him.

After they had relaxed him, fed him, even danced for him, he decided it was time for some more vigorous exercise, and he moved them to the bedroom. One by one he stripped them, lovingly, sensually, the Power maintaining itself from his ability to now please them. They were playing a role for him, yes. But it was a point of pride with him, even more than the feeling of power over them, that he could bring them to the point of forgetting their roles. He knew when he'd reached that point, as they'd forget to call him 'Lord' or 'Master' and simply begged to have him inside them.

He stood now, allowing them to undress him, kissing him and caressing him as they did so. Ginger went down on her knees and wrapped her mouth around his hardness, taking in as much as she could while wrapping her fingers around the rest. They took turns with that, moaning with the pleasure of it, until he chose one of them to be the first.

This night he began with Pepper. He picked her up with just his huge hands holding her by her upper arms, and threw her down on the bed. As he gave her pleasure, Ginger and Sage took their own pleasure, kissing and fondling them both, as well as each other. As always once he started, the bed was a squirming mass of lips, tongues and hands. By now he knew their reactions as well as he knew his own, knew when they were about to step out of their roles and into sheer ecstasy.

He looked down at Pepper. "Spread your legs for me," he said. When she did he laid one knee between her legs and began licking her thighs. He loved how she arched up as his tongue got closer to her sweet place. But he stopped short, beginning again back down near her knees, and licking back up. Over and over he did this, hearing her moans get louder and more urgent, feeling her hips push up against his lips, trying to guide him closer and closer to the place where she really wanted to feel his tongue.

He loved doing this, because it emphasized his control. "Do you like this my spice?" he asked.

"Yes, my Lord, yes I do."

Do you want me to lick you higher?" he asked her, smiling.

"Yes, oh yes please, my Lord, I do."

He feigned unhappiness . "So I am not pleasing you then? This is not enough? Shall I pleasure one of your sisters instead?"

"No, no, you are pleasing me, please keep going please. My Lord."

"So this is enough then? What I'm doing is enough?"

"Yes my Lord it's enough, but please do more. Please. Master."

"Enough, not enough. How am I supposed to figure that out if you aren't precise?"

She was really panting with desire now, and as his tongue got ever closer to where she wanted it, she tried to hold his head still while she moved her hips, trying to take control. He stopped. Completely. Pepper," he said. "You're being a bad girl. "Do you know what happens to bad girls?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Yes what?" he asked.

"Yes master."

"Girls," he said to the other two. "Should I Punish her? Or should I forgive her this time?" They never knew which one he'd decided would be the right answer, so they always just had to take a chance. This time they chose forgiveness. "Forgive her, Master," they said.

He pretended to think about that, and then he said, "As you wish," and went back to licking her thighs again. "Do not move," he said. "Do not move a muscle. And do not cry out or talk."

He worked his tongue on her thighs for another five minutes. He enjoyed feelings her muscles tense as she tried, unsuccessfully to be still, while she was moaning through closed lips, using all her will not to open her mouth and scream out loud. Then he without warning, he let his tongue keep going and swiftly he use he fingers to spread her open and clamp his lips right around that sweet spot.

Naturally, she couldn't hold it in anymore. She pushed up hips into him and let out a scream. He rolled her to the side and gave her ass a not so gentle slap, and said, "Bad girl," but he didn't stop. He had her almost whipped into a frenzy when he stopped for a moment.

"What is you want, my spice?" he asked Pepper still in that soft and sensuous tone he had perfected.

"I want you, my Lord," she answered, breathlessly. Almost there he thought. Almost, but not quite.

"Do you?" he asked pleasantly. "And just what is it you want with me?"

"Oh please," she said now, "Please, I want you inside me. I need it. Please."

"What exactly do you want inside you?" he asked.

"I want your cock inside me, please I want that huge, gorgeous cock inside me."

"So… you want me to fuck you, is that it?"

"Yes, oh my god, yes, fuck me." she all but screamed, as she grabbed at him, trying to pull him into herself. "Fuck me hard, fast, take me!"

And there it was. The Power. That absolute, no holds barred Power. He spread her legs wider and pushed her knees up against her chest and entered her with a swift, hard movement that made her gasp with pleasure. "Is this what you want? Do you feel me inside you? Do you love it?" he continued throwing the questions at her, wanting to hear her say the words that told him he had the power over her, that let him feel something inside him where it was otherwise so empty. "Yes, yes, I love to feel you inside me," she said, these words and others, as she pushed herself against him, losing all control and surrendering it to him.

One by one he took them, bringing them all to a state of begging, and he kept taking them, over and over, taking their gift of surrender, bringing them to the orgasms that filled him with the Power that was now the only emotion he was able to feel, until they were all exhausted. Only then did he allow himself to finish, to experience the physical pleasure and release that accompanied the emotional one.

When they were through, he laid with them, holding them and kissing them lightly sometimes until they fell asleep. This was something he did for them, in exchange for what they had given him. Not the sex, no not the sex. The other thing. The Feeling.

He left the bed gently, so as not to wake them, and quietly dressed. Before he left the room, he watched them sleep for a moment. His women. He didn't think he was going to be able to keep them much longer. Everything always changed, and this would too. It was only a matter of time. He sighed, turned and left the room.

Dean was still sleeping soundly when he quietly snuck back into the room and got himself under the covers. Today, Dean would once again be in charge. Once again someone else would be telling him what to do. But his memories of the night he had just experienced would see him through that. Oh yes, memories of the night, when he was the one in charge. When he had all the Power.


Please let me know how you like this. Maybe I'll write more like this!