I've been marinating how to introduce Sam's personality into this and settled on the below, I hope you guys enjoy it! Thanks for the reviews!
"Sam!" Emily repeated the words in a panic, taking a step backwards away from him, which resulted in the back of her knee hitting Dean's bed and making her sit. Dean bristled and let out an obviously fake annoyed "hey!" which Emily turned to pull a face at and he just grinned back, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Sam had finished his task, both sleeves were firmly resting above his very long, and very toned forearms, and Emily could feel tears begin to prickle behind her eyelids already. She swiped at them angrily and stood to face the taller brother, her back going towards the door of their suffocatingly small room. "No! No! Don't touch me!" She hissed at Sam, bringing a finger up to point at him. From behind his phone, Dean gave a snort of derision, not even bothering to lower it as he muttered, "oh sweetheart, I think he's gonna be doing a lot more then touching you."
Emily sent a glare his way and spat out bitterly, "Get OUT Dean! Why are you even here? Get OUT!" She couldn't believe this was happening again. It hadn't even been two weeks with the brother's and she felt like all she did was spend time trying not to get spanked. Spanked. Like a fucking toddler which she most certainly was not, and this was the most bizarre and surreal experience she'd ever had. What was it with these guys? She flung her hand back up to stop Sam from coming closer to her, her back now firmly pressed against the door of the room. "I will scream, Sam! Don't even think about it, I will fucking scream! You are not doing this, I am a grown woman, I am allowed to do what I want and go where I want, I don't need your permission, get away from me!"
But Sam didn't stop, in fact, he just sighed at her outburst, his eyes sad. "I don't want to do this either Emily, trust me," he said gently, he was always so gentle, and Dean snorted again from the bed which just threw Emily's anger into overdrive, and as she opened her mouth to start yelling at him, Sam reached forward and caught her wrist in his hand, tugging her forward, still so mellow, and so kind. "Stop," he ordered, his voice was still at the same soft level but Emily could see his own frustration beginning to rise and it just made her fight him harder. This was Sam, gentle giant Sam, quiet, unassuming Sam, Sam who could be easily manipulated, he was not going to do this, not if she had any say in it, which she was starting to feel she very much did not. "Come on, you know you shouldn't have done that, you made this choice and now you've got to deal with the consequences. Did you really think you were helping us, Em?" The affectionate nickname made the tears spring up again, god this was humiliating! "We were scared out of our minds, we don't know what's out there right now, and you could've been hurt."
She didn't care, she wasn't going down without a fight, regardless of how much the words stung her heart. He was right, of course he was, but it didn't mean he had to spank her. "No!" She repeated, bitterly pulling back again. "Not you Sam, please, not you."
Dean spoke then, and Emily looked to him pleadingly, "Trust me, you don't want me dealing with you right now." His voice was laced with unleashed rage and she flinched at the implications of it all. And without any further ado, stuck in his own earbuds and laid back down as if this was just a normal, everyday scene for the trio. Which it felt like it was becoming.
Sam had managed to get her over to the other bed by that time, and Emily continued to struggle, though her heart wasn't in it as much as it had been a second ago. She could see she wasn't going to win this battle, so she switched tactics, the anger melting from her face so quickly that Sam almost thought he'd been imagining it. Now it was just tears and remorse, and pleading with him pitifully. Sam felt his heart tighten but he refused to allow her to manipulate him. That's what she was doing, and he felt himself frown in response. "Stop the theatrics, Emily!" His voice hardened and she felt her defenses crumble, her final plea dying in her throat, as he firmly pulled her beside him and guided her across his legs, which were at a perfect 90 degree angle on the short bed. She had nowhere to go, her feet didn't reach, her hands didn't reach, she felt so ashamed and so, so, so small in that moment. She wanted to curl into a ball and just die. Luckily, Sam didn't do much at first, she was wearing a pair of thin black leggings which he left in place, and his hand was just resting on her bottom, it was so large that it almost covered the entire surface of it, something that did not escape her notice, and she shuddered. She expected Sam to be a lecturer, the way Dean was, but he didn't say much at all beyond, "You know why you're here, right?"
"Yes," her pitiful little voice reached his ears and he sighed again, patting her butt gently.
"Let's try, yes sir when you're in this position, okay?"
The boys had been raised in Texas, their manners were Texan, foreign to someone like Emily who'd spent a good amount of her time on the west coast. Her face blushed beet red and she gave a small kick of annoyance, whining out a singular "Sammmm," in response. It was that whine which seemed to set him off, because without any warning at all, his hand had left her ass and had begun to crack down hard.
"Did I stutter?" He'd paused after a good minute of hard, brutal spanks, which had left Emily breathless and frozen across his knee. She realized then that Sam was not to be messed with, if she had thought the gentle boy was going to deliver a gentle spanking, she'd been dead wrong. She sniffled quietly for a moment before forcing the words from her mouth that he seemed intent on hearing,
"Y-yessir," they felt wrong coming from her mouth, dirty somehow. She hated it. She hated them. Her hand reached out to find his knee, and she pushed up slightly, hating that she had nowhere to go. At the words, Sam smiled and rested his hand on her butt again for a moment, letting her get bearings before he began again.
"Good girl," the condescending phrase left his mouth and immediately he felt her body tense at the words so before she could spit out what he was sure was going to be a string of stinging profanities, he began to spank again, falling into his own pattern without much ado. Truth was, he didn't have much experience in the area of disciplining beautiful adult women, he hadn't ever really been the spanking type, not beyond a few times in the bedroom or once or twice in the heat of the moment with Jess, but he was certainly not a stranger to receiving them and he was confident he knew what to look for and when to stop. There was no other sound in the room except his hand thudding across her legging clad butt, and he found that he enjoyed watching how it bounced and sprang right back with each blow. He was careful to measure his strength, but his hand was so large that it really didn't make a difference to Emily, each smack felt like a sledgehammer in her mind.
He kept up the spanking until he started to hear her sniffle and her little kicks began to get a bit more frantic, and he paused again. Emily, certain it was over, brought her other hand to his leg to try to push herself off. But Sam surprised her by swiftly tugging her leggings down, leaving her pink little ass bared to him, and she gasped, red coloring her face immediately as she attempted to reach back, same as she did with Dean. It didn't matter how many times she was in this position, she didn't think she'd ever get to used to it. "No! No Sam, please! I don't want you-" she was stammering over her words and her squirming was getting more wild, Dean seeing her ass was one thing, he was a Neanderthal, but Sam? For some reason Sam seeing her this way felt even more obscene than anything she'd experienced before. Unmoved by her plea's and her tears, he gently pressed her hips back down, using his strength to draw her body closer to him and finished pulling her leggings down to her knees. She had a tiny little thong on, barely visible, it certainly wasn't going to offer any protection, so he gave her the dignity of leaving it in place as he settled her back in again. "Look Emily, neither of us want to be here. I don't want to be doing this. You don't want this to be done," his voice was level and reasonable, such a stark contrast against the absurdity of the whole situation. "So quit pulling these stunts. If you wanted coffee, you should've waited for me, I would've gladly gone with you, I could've used a cup myself." Her cheeks heated up again and she flinched, the embarrassment growing. "Instead you snuck off, you left your phone, you didn't say a word. You scared us," his words weren't meant to hurt her, they were straight to the point and matter of fact, which just made Emily feel even more ashamed then she had before. "I know you're a grown woman, I don't think of you as a little kid, and I don't want to treat you like you are, but you have to stop. You're going to get yourself hurt, or even worse, get us killed. We're hunters, Em, we're not like regular people, there are different codes and there are different rules. I'm sorry that you're being introduced to us like this, but trust me, your alternative here is much, much worse."
"Yes sir," Emily was weeping quietly by the time he'd finished his speech, somehow feeling worse then she had ever felt in her life, letting down Sam was like letting down her father, and her hate had shifted into nothing more then plain and simple shame. Sam nodded, giving her hip a small tap of approval before he shifted his grip to hold her firmly against his stomach and the spanking resumed. Smack after smack lit into her tender flesh, she was hyper aware that Dean was still in the room, most likely watching, and even more aware that this position across Sam's knees was not leaving much to the imagination where her sex was involved. She was secretly very grateful he had let her keep her thong on, it was bad enough that Dean had already seen her down there, but for Sam to see her too? "Ow, ow, owwww," she groaned, the tears that had been pooling in her eyes beginning to spill over. The spanking hurt, Sam had a completely different rhythm then Dean, his spanks were incredibly uniform, unvarying in strength and pattern. He'd spank her right cheek in the same spot six times, then move to the left and repeat, then move to her right sit spot, then left, then start over. His hand felt as heavy as wood, it was unyielding, and Emily was quickly realizing that without the lecture during she had nothing to focus on except the utter, unrelenting pain. It didn't take more than a few minutes before Emily surrendered to the pain of the spanking and her body went limp over his lap, her tears flowing freely into the carpet below her head. It wasn't the worst spanking she'd been given thus far, no Dean still held that title, but it was certainly the most humbling. Sam was clearly not going to be the ally she had thought he would, and it felt very, very lonely. It took her a moment to realize that he had stopped spanking and was instead rubbing soothing circles over her blazing cheeks, before he leaned down to pull her leggings back up and help her up from his lap. She rubbed her eyes with her hands, small sobs still escaping her mouth though she was doing her best to will them to stop. Still seated, he carefully pulled her to sit on his knee, the pain was sharp enough to make her gasp but not enough to make her pull away either, and he gently raised a thumb to her face and wiped a few stray tears from her cheeks too, making her give him a watery smile in return. "I'm sorry I had to do that." He quietly pulled her into a hug and she melted into his arms, staying there until her sobbing had subsided and they were both interrupted by Dean rolling out of the bed to stand and toss his headphones onto the dresser beside him.
"Well that was boring and I'm starving, let's go eat," he announced, taking a moment to shove his wallet into his pocket. Sam sighed at his brother's antics and helped Emily up again, smoothing her hair down with his hand before he turned to roll his eyes at Dean and mouth "are you kidding me?" at him with a head quirk toward Emily.
"What?" Dean shrugged innocently, giving Emily a smile that was part leering, part flirtatious. "She's a big girl, I think she can handle herself. What'd you say dollface, want to go get cleaned up and head back to that coffee place? I finished your latte," he grinned again, gesturing to a small wire garbage can where the remnants of her muffin and coffee cup now sat. Instead of letting herself get worked up at Dean's teasing, Emily recognized he was trying to lighten the mood in the room, and she took it gratefully, giving him a tiny smile back.
"Yeah, let me just cleaned up," she grabbed her backpack and headed to the bathroom, where she took a few minutes to splash cold water onto her face, washing away the easiest reminder of her spanking. She glanced at herself in the mirror and pulled a face. She looked tired, and messy, two things she absolutely despised. The beginnings of some dark circles were forming under her eyes and her hair was a mess. She let out her ponytail and rifled through her bag for some makeup and her hairbrush, which she quickly put to use, trying to stiffly shake out the ache that was still burning through her leggings. Pretty soon she was back to her normal, breathtaking self. Her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders and she'd scrubbed all evidence of her crying under a layer of foundation and concealer, topping it with some mascara and a swipe of lip balm. She didn't usually go heavy unless she was working a job that required it. And she had a feeling that wasn't going to a part of the deal with these guys. Her own father hadn't minded pimping her out to get a kill, but for some reason Emily just knew Dean and Sam would never allow it. "Texas," she muttered under her breath, which made her giggle as soon as she registered she'd said it out loud. Satisfied that she looked presentable now, she finally opened the door and stepped out.
"So listen, the girl who works here seems to have a lot of theories about the townie murders, she told me that the same man found all three victims so far, and all of them were missing their hearts and their eyes," she told them as they made the short walk over. "She's young, so Sam can probably work his charm on her for more gossip." Dean gave a mock gasp of hurt, clutching his chest as though she'd just deeply insulted him. But it turned out that it wasn't necessary, enough time had passed that their had been a shift change and now instead of the cute little teen behind the counter from earlier, there was a much older, very handsome man wiping down the counter. He had to have been late-30's, he had a tiny hint of grey peppering a full head of dark brown, almost black hair, his eyes were also brown, and his arms were taut and muscled beneath the tight white tee he sported. He straightened when the three entered and Emily could see the faint outline of abs beneath his shirt, which was tucked neatly into a pair of trendy grey slacks.
The man smiled at the three, his teeth straight and white, and his voice was a rich baritone when he spoke, "Well howdy there," he drawled, with a thick southern accent. "Don't reckon I've seen you around here, new townies? Or just passing through?"
"Just passing through," Emily naturally took the lead, ignoring Dean's tension next to her, "I'm Alexis, these are my brother's, we actually are in town for John Hemper's funeral, he was my mom's second cousin." She had made her way to the counter, batting her eyelashes at him prettily, making sure she was leaning up against the counter in a way that accentuated her breasts in the low v-neck black tee she was donning. The boys had never seen her in action before, and even they seemed mesmerized by the performance, neither of them had moved a muscle yet. She used the only name she remembered the girl from earlier giving her, an older guy who'd been one of the victims "Did you know him? Awful what happened," she made sure her voice was even and breathy, exactly what she knew men loved to hear, and it was working. The man's gaze moved from her face to her cleavage and then back up again, his smile still stuck on his face before he answered.
"Oh John? Yeah, sure I knew him. He came in here every morning, never mentioned any family out of town, but I guess I didn't know him well. I own this place," he waved a hand behind him, and Emily's smile brightened again. "So I know just about everyone," he leaned down slightly so he was eye level with Emily and her heart skipped a little beat. "Sorry about your second cousin darlin'," he gave a little wink and then turned to the boys still standing there gawking. "What can I get y'all?" He moved over to the espresso machine and began to pull shots, listening as they rattled off their orders and then Dean, giving Emily a very pointed look, took over the conversation, clearly unhappy with the direction it had gone. He pressed the guy for some details on what was going on, and the easy-going shop owner answered what he could, if he was suspicious of them, his face didn't show it, but he also didn't seem to know as much as the girl from earlier. It wasn't long before they had finished their coffees and pastries and had started to leave, but the owner called her back as the boys reached the door, giving her another winning smile.
"I'm Brian, by the way," he offered, giving her another wink. "If you're in town long, I'd love to take you out and show you around." Dean choked on his last swig of coffee, and coughing, gave a stern "come on sis," to the chagrin of them both. Even Sam was grinning. Emily cleared her throat and shrugged noncommittedly, "I'll let you know cowboy," she returned his wink saucily and then turned and left the shop without another word.
"What was that?" Sam demanded the second they were all out of the shop and on the street, but Emily didn't respond, just kept walking without a word.
"That," Dean responded slowly, watching her retreating back, "was precisely what dad told us she was. Bait."