Author's Note: Thanks so much everyone. I hope you all had a great holiday. Also, to the people who took the time to review last chapter: thank you especially. Thank you for telling me your thoughts on the story. I took all the little thing you said and tried to incorporate them into this chapter and of course, the rest of the story. I hope you're all enjoying the story and I hope you're still interested.

Warning: See any previous chapter. But for his chapter specifically, there's a torture warning.


Chapter 11:

With the whip gripped tightly in his hand, Nick flicked in on his hand. He watched as Sam eyes the end of it, waiting for when it was raised to him. Nick was sort of surprised, though. They boy didn't look scared. Sam knew what was going to happen and he didn't look afraid at all. That was new to Nick. Usually when he did this, the captives were already pleading for him to let them go and not to hit them. But not Sam. He was quiet, just watching. He didn't tug at the chains anymore. He knew he couldn't get out of them. Sam looked fearless.

Nick circled Sam, hitting the whip on the ground at he did. Sam's body was shaking, though. It might just be from the strain on his arms, though. No matter the reason, Nick was looking to straighten this kid out no matter what.

"You think you're a tough guy, don't'cha?"

Sam was silent, he had his eyes fixed on the whip, waiting for that moment when it would no longer be flicked at the ground, but swung at his exposed skin.

Suddenly, the weapon was smacked hard against the floor, the wind for it splashing Sam. He did all he could not to jump at the sudden movement. Nick smirked a little. He hit the whip on the ground again, this time coming within inches of Sam's stomach. Sam's eyes closed, he was sure he was going to get it, but when he didn't feel any pain he opened them again. He looked at Nick curiously. Why didn't he just get it over with?, Sam thought. Why is he wasting all this time trying to talk?

"I'm speaking to you," Nick says almost as if he's offended by the fact that Sam hasn't answered him yet.

Still Sam was silent. He wasn't going to give him any satisfaction, not even the slightest bit. So if Nick wanted to hear Sam talk, Sam planned on staying completely silent.

There was an aggravated look on Nick's face as Sam kept his emotionless. Sam knew that he liked to be in total control all the time, but he couldn't control Sam. Sure he could whore him out to whoever had enough money to buy him, he could take away his food and water if he wanted to, but he couldn't make Sam talk, he couldn't take the stubbornness out of him, either. That's where Sam knew he had the upper hand. Dean had always told him he was hardheaded and they he never really listened to anyone. Sam almost grinned, hearing his brother's words in his head.

A hard slash from the whip was delivered down the center of his back. Sam's face scrunched up and his hands balled into tighter fists above his head, but he didn't make a sound.

"Wipe that smile off your face, boy!"

Nick's anger reached a new level. He was sort of like a robot, Sam had observed. He sort of did things just off of impulse. He only thought about money and he'd do anything to get more of it. Nick didn't have compassion for anyone or anything. Sam figured that his heart had gone cold years and years ago. When Sam actually allowed himself to think about it, it was actually kind of sad. It's sad that someone could have absolutely no compassion for any human whatsoever. It was sad that someone could be so selfish. It was sad that Sam knew that there were more people in the world like Nick out there running wild, ruining people's lives left and right.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are around here. I don't know why you think you're so special that you don't have to follow rules or anything," Nick hit Sam again. These hits weren't hard enough to draw blood yet, if anything, they were warning hits; but they still hurt like hell. "You're not above anyone here. No one. Especially not me."

Sam still kept quiet. He even tried to block out Nick; and for a little while it worked, but then he was hit again, drawing him out of it. The whips stung his back for a while then slowly subsided, but Sam knew this was nothing to what was ahead. He could tell that Nick wasn't even trying to hit him hard. But it still hurt.

Nick took a step back, admiring the long red marks he left on the boys back. He even chucked a little.

Sam swallowed hard, breathing deeply.

'Deep breaths, son. The pain will go away. Deep breaths'

Sam could hear his father's voice coaching him; and if he closed his eyes, he could even see his father's face telling him to be strong.

Before he knew it, another hit was to his back. This time it was with great force. It was like a slow burn down his back. The hit was quick, but the pain it left lingered. Sam tightened and loosened his fist slowly, another technique his dad had taught both he and Dean when they were younger. Sam's breathing was beginning to speed up. He tried his best to control it, but it wasn't working.

'Just calm down, Sammy. It'll be over soon. Just calm down'

Dean's voice was echoing in the back of his head. Sam tried to listen to his brother. He did all he could to channel him and to black out Nick but it wasn't working too well.

Three hard slashes were placed on Sam's back. Those drew blood. He could feel it trickling down his back and being soaked up by the waist band of his Jeans. Nick was mumbling something in a harsh tone but Sam wasn't focused enough to actually make out the words that he was saying. Sam did all he could not to pay attention to the pain that was being inflected on his body. Sam allowed his eyes to close again hoping that the pain would magically go away if he did.

Four hard hits were delivered to Sam's back and sides again. He bit his lip so hard it turned white, but Sam was determined to stay silent. Nick was sweating, his lips pressed tight together in concentration. Sam heard him grunt each time he smacked the whip against Sam's shaking body. Nick was getting a lot of pleasure out of this; but all Sam felt was pain. By now, Sam saw little black dots in his vision that chased each other from one end of his eyesight to the other. He tried to blink them away, but they kept multiplying.

Nick paused for a second, the lasting sting of the whips still lingering on Sam's back, and Sam could hear was he cracked his knuckles.

"Had enough kid?"

Sam didn't say a word even though he prayed that Nick would stop. What he just got wasn't anything compared to how hard Sam knew Nick could hit.

Nick cleared his throat, expecting a reply from Sam. But when silence was the only thing that answered him, he was angered again. He took hold of the whip, gathered his strength, and started all over again.

-For Pleasure, For Pain-

One hour.

One whole hour.

For sixty minutes Nick let out all his anger on Sam.

He was strategic, though. He made sure it hurt, me made sure that Sam bled, but he didn't over do it. He still needed Sam whether he wanted to admit it or not. Sam was a money maker. He was young. He was new. He was what the buyers wanted. So no matter how much Nick wanted to tear him apart, he couldn't.

When Nick had finally stopped, there was a pool of blood that dripped from Sam. Nick circled the boy, a disgusted look on his face.

"Maybe you've learned your lesson now?"

Sam's head was bowed, chin pressed against his collar bone. He struggled to keep his eyes open, even though he knew the importance of it. He could no longer feel his arms nor his hands. But he felt his back just fine. It was burning like the depths of hell. Each open wound sending a different type of pain wave through his body. But even then, Sam was quiet. He was quite proud of himself, even if it cost him this. He didn't give in, even though his brain was screaming at him to. Sam did what he knew Dean and his Dad would want him to. He didn't give these people any satisfaction.

Nick placed the bloody whip back in the closet and closed it up.

He walked over to Sam, reached up and grabbed his face.

"Stop being such a stubborn brat," Nick grumbles as he uses his key to unchain Sam's hands. He watches as Sam's weak body fell to the ground, not having enough strength to keep himself up. Sam tried to put his hands out to break his fall, but he couldn't. They were numb, a hurting, tingling sensation ran through them. They had hurt about as much as his back did, but even then, Sam refused to make a sound.

Rough hands grabbed Sam at his sides, lifting him off the floor.

Sam pressed his lips together, trying to keep his whimpers from exiting his body. The hands were pressing right on his open wounds. It hurt so bad he could scream, but he wouldn't.

Rolled over, Sam was lifted by Nick, settled into his arms, then escorted back upstairs.

Sam's vision was blurry, his eyes were barely open. He fought to keep them open and to stay alert, but he just couldn't. Everything around him seemed to have a dark grey tinge to it. Sam felt light, like a feather. His back still burned as he was carried through the middle section of the warehouse. He was brought past the captives. Sam tried to find Austin but he couldn't. He hoped that nothing happened to him.

"Damn, Nick," came a voice. Just by memory, Sam guessed it was Damien. "You've been down there this whole time?"

Nick nodded.

Damien stopped him, putting his arms out. "Here, give him to me, you need to get cleaned up."

"No," was Nick's soft reply. He walked again, brushing past Damien.

Damien followed Nick, though. They made their way across the open space and into a room that was sort of standoffish. But inside was very spacious. There was a man who sat at a table. He had short dark hair and he looked a little on the old side. If Sam was paying enough attention, he would of found it off that someone of the man's age was here, taking part in a business like this.

"What happened to him?" the man asked.

"Nick happened," Damien replied sarcastically.

Cutting his eye, Nick gave him a look, but didn't say anything.

The man stood. "C'mon, c'mon put him down." He gestured to the table that resembled one that you would see at a doctor's office.

Nick did as he was told.

Sam was was placed face down on the table. The older man turned his head to the side so he could still breathe and he pulled on gloves.

Was he a doctor? Sam thought to himself.

What's he doing?

Around him, everything was beginning to get fuzzy. He saw Nick's mouth moving, and he knew that Nick was talking, but he couldn't hear him anymore.

Just then, Sam felt a prick in his arm.

The back dots that once swarmed around Sam's vision formed into black clouds. Soon, darkness was all Sam saw. But just as he let his eyes close, he wondered if there'd be anything left of him to save when Nick and his friends were through.