I know that what is below will not be everyone's cup of tea, thus I separated it from 'A Prison of One's Own Making'. This is the first of several chapters, though my primary focus is finishing the original story. It takes place during Dean's section of Chapter 17.
Warnings: M/F rape, M/M rape, drug use, graphic torture, murder. Don't like, don't read.
I don't know why I write this stuff, maybe it's a way of dealing with my own assault/rape, maybe it's because it's a logical addition to the story, maybe... I don't know. Brains are weird. I'm so sorry I do this to you, Sam.
Title comes from the Billy Joel song 'My Life'.
When he awoke, the blood from his latest killing had been washed away and he was dressed in black tight-fitting boxer shorts. He seemed to be in a small storage room, illuminated with a naked bulb above his head. He noticed he was in a new cage, one big enough for him to stand if he wanted. Not that it mattered: he was still trapped. The air was warm enough that he wasn't cold, but goosebumps crawled over his skin anyway. He could hear muffled voices but he didn't have the energy to listen. Again, it didn't matter. It never did.
After what could have been minutes or hours, two men dressed in black grabbed the sides of his new cage and pulled him forward. He was told to 'stand up and stay still'. Flaps of fabric were pulled back and bright lights blinded him. At first, he couldn't tell where he was, only that he was somewhere with a lot of people, if the gasps and murmurs were anything to go by. As his eyes adjusted, the words he heard made sudden, horrible sense.
"On to our next item, number 67. I'm sure many of you are here for this! Having inspected the item myself, I can't say I blame you! Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Sam Winchester, hunter extraordinaire, demon spawn, and the man who started the Apocalypse! We will be offering several bidding levels, as our purveyor has described several unique attributes, which I can attest are genuine: Tier 1 bids will begin at $500 per hour, where he shall be released to you as a defenseless toy for your unrelegated pleasure. Tier 2, beginning at $1000 per hour, gives you a fighter with superhuman strength and a wicked temper. This is fueled by treatment with demon blood, which will of course be provided with your winning bid. And lastly, in an item so unique I am tempted to bid myself, Tier 3, for a starting price of $1000 plus $1500 per hour, you have the ability to make your own snuff film with this beast, as he is cursed with eternal resurrection at the hand of the fallen archangel himself, Lucifer! I assure you this is a real item. We can confirm inventory for the next week, with the potential for two more weeks after that. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, folks."
The crowd broke out in a boisterous display, questions flying, insults raging, and excited mouths babbling.
Benji slammed the gavel a few times to silence everyone. "Obviously there will be limits on the number of sessions per day, but we will do our best to accommodate everyone. If you are unable to secure a session this evening, we may be able to come to an arrangement. Please also keep in mind that this is only the first week's offering. Though, I feel I should add, I expect demand will increase exponentially." He turned his head to take a look at the cowering figure and smiled in anticipation. "Alright, due to the short notice, we are offering one session tonight, a Tier 1 option. All tiers will be available throughout the rest of the week. So, can I get $500 for an hour with Sam Winchester this evening, from 11 pm-12 am?"
"$500!" a number of voices called out.
"$550!" a blonde woman shouted.
"$575!" a dark-skinned man with silver hair countered.
"$600," a British accent answered.
"$650," the blonde offered.
Up and up it went until the blonde woman shouted out "$1800!", a $200 increase over the previous bid, and no one challenged her.
"Sold!" Benji called out as he banged the gavel.
She suppressed her squeal of delight and eyed the man in the cage with unconcealed excitement. She was going to be the first.
"Congratulations! Please visit the atrium desk to secure your winning bid. Okay, on to tomorrow, starting at 8 am. We will schedule Tier 1s first, then Tier 2s, followed by individual Tier 3 requests. We'll start with a one hour Tier 1. Can I get $500?"
After being forced to stand on display for over an hour as the most vile sector of society placed bids on his body, his muscles were exhausted and unresponsive. Despite his best efforts, he toppled to the ground when he tried to move as the cage door opened and then remained limp as Creedy and another man carried him from the cage to the bed. They pulled down his boxers once he was on his back. His wrists were drawn above his head and chained to the headboard, his pale skin stark against the bloodred sheets. His legs were spread apart and bound to the sides of the bed with soft rope, leaving him completely vulnerable and exposed.
Creedy approached with a water bottle and something in his hands. "I know you probably won't play along with this, so here's something to help."
He clenched his jaw shut and turned away, the greatest act of resistance he could muster.
"C'mon, don't be like that. It's just scopolamine and boner pills, and some acid to take the edge off. It'll make it easy for you."
He kept his head to the side but it was ultimately futile. Strong hands gripped his face, held his nose shut, and pried his mouth open, a flashback of how this nightmare began blurring his perception. As before, the survival instinct ultimately won out and his mouth opened against his will. The pills were stuffed in and water poured down his throat. He choked and sputtered on the lukewarm liquid but a hand clamped over his mouth and he had no choice but to swallow. The hands lifted from his face and he was left alone for the drugs to take effect.
Time drifted by aimlessly, his thoughts becoming more and more distorted as everything worked its way into his system. He barely even registered the sound of the door opening and closing until a dazzle of blonde hair caught his eye.
"Oh aren't you just beautiful, all trussed up here for me. You know, I was worried I'd spent too much, but clearly, you are more than worth it!"
The sound of a zipper being opened filtered into his brain as majestic little waterfalls crashing down inside an anthill. The image made no sense and he pondered it, barely aware of what was happening outside his mind, until he felt movement. The bed dipped and he felt himself afloat on a calm ocean. Something like vines crawled around him and then there was bright gold in his face, no it was hair, blonde hair. Lips danced up his chest to his neck, to his face, to his own mouth. A hot tongue searched for entry and he was powerless to resist. Fingers ran through his hair, tucking it behind his ear, and the act ignited something within him, something he had long since suppressed.
Jess used to do that to him, especially when he was worried. He would be venting about some exam or the stress of balancing school and work, and she would lean over to him and put a hand to his cheek before sliding her hand up to corral a loose strand behind his ear. Eventually he learned to lean into the touch, taking the comfort being offered without a fight. As if working on muscle memory, his body did the same now.
When he opened his eyes, Jess was smiling at him, her perfect lips inviting him to banish all his anxiety. The corners smirked up a little more and Sam swallowed hard, knowing exactly what she was thinking. He bit his own lip, anticipation humming along his nerves.
The fingers tangled in his hair gave a slight tug before sliding out to slip down his body. Delicate hands caressed his thighs in an all-too-familiar way and when he craned his head up to look, Jess was there, all delicate curls, white teeth, and bedroom eyes. A soft touch traced along his shaft and he couldn't, didn't want to, stop the rush of blood greeting her interest.
She arranged herself over him, her hair a glowing halo around her head. She lowered herself down slightly and smiled. "Oh, baby," she murmured, rubbing herself back and forth on him, teasing him with her wetness.
"Ugh, please," he begged, his voice raspy from disuse.
"You're so fucking hot when you beg," Jess said before dropping herself onto him and plunging him deep inside her warmth. His head was thrown back involuntarily, his body unable to comprehend the confusing rush of stimuli. She swirled her body around him and hummed with pleasure. She leaned forward and lavished his neck with kisses and bites as she ground into him.
"God, Jess," he mumbled, his hips bucking under her, trying to lodge himself deeper. She began bobbing up and down on him, careful to almost separate their bodies before taking in his full length again. He squirmed against his restraints, whimpering.
She leaned down and whispered into his ear. "What do you want, my precious toy?"
He frowned slightly, that didn't sound like something Jess would say. But her smile, her voice, the feel of her skin on his, it had to be her, it just had to be. And wasn't she everything he'd ever wanted in life?
"I want you, baby, I want whatever you want," he said breathlessly.
"Then get up and fuck me. That sound good?"
"Yes, God, yes!" he replied loudly, the sound of his blood pumping through his ears distracting him.
The body over him slithered away and he heard voices. The words reached his ears but they didn't make sense.
"Untie him so he can move."
"Ma'am, all due respect, but I don't think that's a good idea."
"He's not on demon blood, so this should be perfectly safe!"
"Yes, but, he is still fairly strong and he could hurt you."
"I signed a goddam waiver, did I not? I'm the one paying here and I should be able to use him how I please! Now fucking untie him!"
"Y-yes, ma'am."
Hands fluttered around his wrists and ankles but he was quickly pulled away from those sensations by a hand enclosing his length. He breathed in deeply and enjoyed the subtle fragrance of Jess's perfume. It made him even harder; he'd forgotten how he used to roll over into her pillow when she left for a morning class before him and inhale her scent. Sometimes that was enough to make him hard and he'd be left to decide whether to satisfy himself or wait for her to return. Always one to understand the value of delayed gratification, he usually waited for her.
"Sweetie," she cooed, her hands gently pumping. "You ready?"
"As I'll ever be!" He pushed himself up and got to his knees. He grabbed her shoulders and swung her down, pressing her into the bed. "You're gonna regret teasing me so much," he growled playfully.
"Oh really? And why's that?"
"'Cause I'm gonna tease you right back!" He landed his mouth on her nipple, his eager tongue swirling around the raised tissue. One hand massaged her other breast, the free hand sliding down into her wetness. He found her clit and began to stroke it expertly, enough to send jolts of frustrated pleasure up her spine but not enough for any type of satisfactory release. His teeth gently grazed her nipple and she groaned.
"Dammit you were right," she cried, wavering on the edge for the eighth time in a minute.
"Yeah?" he asked, his voice muffled as his mouth hungrily sucked on her breast.
"I regret teasing you so much! Mercy!"
"You wish!" he responded with a smile, his lips still around her as he dove a finger into her. She bucked and whimpered, the familiar sound testing his self-control. He thought about pushing himself further, but God, what was the point? He couldn't even remember the last time he'd slept with Jess and fuck, he just wanted to be in her so goddam bad.
He brought his head up and slid down her form. He grinned at her before lining himself up and plunging in suddenly, relishing the way her surprised body clenched around him. He began pumping in and out of her slowly, appreciating the sounds of pleasure he was drawing from his beloved. It was one thing to enjoy yourself, something else entirely to bring the woman you love to ecstasy. He raised her feet to his shoulders and slowly sped up his pace, repeatedly pressing that exact spot that made her crazy, that made her move like the goddam ocean, that made him feel like he was one with her. He felt her come, hard, his cock wrapped in her warm, shuddering embrace. He almost let himself go over, but he bit his lip and held on. She'd rode him, now it was time to return the favor.
"Roll over," he commanded, dropped her legs, and lifted himself away from her. She obeyed immediately, even though she seemed out of breath.
He wasted no time in burying himself in her again, this time with all the desperate vigor borne of two lovers too long separated. He closed his palms around her shoulders, pounding into her, pulling her weight against him. She was crying out beneath him, all groans and grunts and yells, and he was so damn close, all he needed was – he fisted his hand in her blonde hair and pulled back gently. The spark of pleasured pain that spiked through her body was the extra stimulus he needed and he moaned as he came, pleased both of them could reach completion. He stayed inside her, the two of them panting, clinging too closely to the available air to speak.
Once the euphoria of the orgasm waned, patches of his vision seemed to dull in color. He blinked hard and his surroundings wavered, the woman below him Jess and then not Jess and then Jess again, as if his mind was trying to choose which version was reality. He weakly shook his head and when he opened his eyes, the blonde was decidedly not Jess. In a rush, everything came back to him, her death, her hair splayed out around her perfect face as she burned, their father's death, his death, Dean's death, death, death, death, it was the only constant in his life. He fell forward towards the side and gasped for breath, forcing himself to breathe.
A hand caressed his face. "I know, I enjoyed it, too." The woman rose out of bed and got dressed. She leaned down and murmured into his ear "You'll be seeing me again soon. I know I'll be thinking about you, monster." She tussled his hair and walked away.
Monster.
Jess.
Life.
Death.
He buried his face in the pillow and sobbed.
At least they had the decency to wait until he stopped crying. Or maybe that was just how long it took them to wrap everything up with the woman. They injected him with a little more sedative before sponging him down. The water was cool and their hands were uninterested, but it felt like an additional violation. More eyes seeing and more hands touching things that were meant to be his. They roughly dried him off with scratchy towels and unceremoniously dumped him back in the cage. He was moved to a car and brought to a new location. The new bedroom was much more ornate than the utilitarian fuckroom he'd been in before. The bed had soft silky beige sheets and a carved headboard. His handlers flipped him over and chained him up so that he was face-down. It only took a few seconds for him to realize the implications, but his muscles didn't respond to his rallying cry to fight. The attendants left and he awaited his fate in silence.
The door opened and a deep voice hummed approvingly. He kept his eyes closed, anything to pretend this wasn't happening.
The door slipped shut and the man shrugged out of his jacket.
"My name is Benjamin."
Benjamin walked over to the bed and placed a hand on the small of his back.
"They told me this is your first time with a man, so I'll start gentle, okay?"
The hand moved to pet his hair while another stroked down his back. The man spent several minutes just feeling all of his body, learning his tender points and tracing the sigils. He heard the man stand and undress, before returning and spreading his body over him.
The man nuzzled his face into his hair and breathed in deeply. "Mmm you smell so damn good," he murmured. Benjamin slowly lowered his hips so that his hardness was grazing the exposed buttocks shaking slightly beneath him.
Soft, eager moans escaped his new master's throat and he felt the man's dick pressing into him. The weight pinning him eased and he took in a relieving lungful of air, not even minding that it smelled vaguely of the man's tuna sandwich breath. The momentary respite was interrupted by the sound of a bottle being squeezed and then hands spreading his cheeks apart. Cold deluged his entrance and he instinctively clenched, refusing the finger that was seeking access.
"Shh, just let me in, it'll be easier if you don't fight…"
Tears spilled from his eyes and he tried to suppress a sniffle.
"Aww, baby boy, don't cry." Benjamin leaned forward over him and a finger caught a tear and traced it up. "I'll be sure to make it good for you, too. Don't worry, you'll see…"
He forced himself to relax, knowing that resistance was futile. The more he fought, the more it would hurt. He allowed the finger to slide past the tense ring of muscle and it was as if another iceberg was chipped off the shrinking continent of his soul.
"God, boy, you are so fucking tight," he moaned lustily, swirling his finger more quickly. Another one wormed its way into the slick space and began scissoring to open him up.
He mewled in discomfort and Benjamin slowed down, bringing his hand up to massage his new pet's hip. "I'm sorry, I just got excited. Here, we'll do one more then I think you'll be ready."
He wanted to shake his head no, he wanted to scream for this to stop, but those were not options available to him. All he could do was lay there and take it. He was nothing, just a thing to be used as others desired, with no regard for his wants or needs. Well, I'm a monster, what should I expect, VIP service?
The third finger slid in and stretched him even wider. He flinched at the initial movement but the cooing voice above urged him to loosen up. He was worked until he could barely feel it anymore. Maybe this won't be that bad… he told himself, though he knew he was probably being overly optimistic.
The invasive digits pulled out of him and left him feeling oddly empty. He didn't have to wait long until Benjamin placed a hand on either cheek, spread him apart, and lined himself up. He could feel a hard warmth pressed against him and his body tightened against his will.
"C'mon sugar, let daddy in. I don't wanna hurt you, c'mon…" Benjamin gently thrust his hips minutely so the muscles would get used to the sensation and relax. He felt them give slightly and took advantage of the opportunity. He pressed in slowly but firmly, almost losing his mind at the way the boy hugged around him so. fucking. tightly.
The immense burst of pressure and pain caught him off guard and he yelped before biting the pillow. Benjamin withdrew then re-entered, burying himself all the way. He threw his head back and turned to the side, trying to breathe through the physical discomfort and the weirdness of the sensation. Benjamin pushed into him and leaned down, his head nuzzling into his hair. "You feel like Heaven," he breathed, sinking further in. "Mmm… you're a natural… I bet I'll have you taking cock without any prep in no time!" he said excitedly, the odd word here and there punctuated by his thrusts.
Benjamin worked at a steady pace to open him up until he felt like he could do as he pleased. His captive wasn't expecting the change in angle, nor the sudden flare of pleasure that rippled through him.
"See, I told you I'd take care of you, too. That was your prostate. And I'll hit it all night long if you let me."
He opened his eyes in alarm, but something caught his gaze, distracting him from the physical sensations assaulting him. A little square of blackness poised in the room with a tiny blinking red light. Humiliation swept through him as he realized this was being filmed. He was being filmed. A violent slew of thoughts careened through the mountains of his mind, a jumbled mess of all the ways this was messed up and horrible and wrong. But more than anything else, he feared what would happen if Dean saw this. What would Dean think of him if he saw him like this, quietly taking this degrading abuse like a common whore? As if everything else he'd done, all the other ways he'd failed weren't enough, he had to add this to the Everest-sized pile.
Another surge of delicious sensation shot up his nerves and inundated his brain, but it wasn't nearly enough to extinguish the shame filling his being. A permanent record for all the world to see, an ode to his weakness and complete defeat.
Benjamin made use of his partner's distracted indecision and thrusted in and out of him eagerly, gathering up every moment of joyous contact. He decided he needed more, he needed to be in complete control. He could tell the young man's spirit was well on its way to breaking. Between everything Creedy had told him and what he had experienced today, soon the Adonis would be clay in his hands. The thought of owning the exquisite specimen quivering beneath him filled him with renewed vigor. He anchored his hands on the shoulders beneath him and began to relentlessly pound the gorgeous ass, drawing gasping cries from his pet. With such exalted music in his ears, it wasn't long before he brought himself to release inside the warm sheath. He moaned loudly and praised the body so generously milking him of his seed with its intense trembling. "You are such a beautiful little slut… You are perfect in every way and I am so grateful I could be the first to have your delicate ass."
Rasping sobs reached him and he grinned. Step one was breaking the foal. Step two was showing the foal who was in command. Sliding his fingers down from the shaking shoulders, he wrapped them around the convulsing neck and pressed in. His captive was in too much shock to struggle meaningfully, but Benjamin enjoyed the brief battle nonetheless, the frantic pulses of frightened muscles hugging his cock and making him feel high. As he felt the creature still beneath him, he leaned down into the sweaty locks, finding the boy's ear.
"Next time, I want you to call me Master Benji."
I have no experience with drugs, so I apologize if my characterizations are incorrect.
Let me know if there's anything you want in particular, all forms of torture included!
Reviews are love!