"Can't you just let me go?" I begged, tugging against the handcuffs and ignoring the pain that shot through my wrists. "How is this even helping Dean?"
"Dean's dead," Sam snapped. "And you killed him."
"He was dying anyway!" I argued. "I just called the deal early."
"I would've found a way to break it," Sam said. "There was enough time. And you took that away."
"It- it wasn't breakable," I protested. "Dean's dead, ok? Just let me go."
"No," Sam said firmly.
"Why not?" I demanded. "What good does tying me up do anyone?! Since you stole my grace it's not like I can do anything anyway." I started by yelling and ended in a choked sob.
"Revenge, Gabriel," Sam said. "This is revenge. It's all I have left."
I flinched. Then I realized what Sam had called me. "How do you know my name?" I asked weakly.
"You should be more careful who you trust," Sam told me.
I groaned. "Which one of those stupid pagans snitched on me?"
"Sleipnir," Sam informed me proudly. "He broke like a tissue paper piñata before I even started torturing him."
"I'll kill him," I seethed, trying to cover my grief from the betrayal with anger.
"He's already dead," Sam said. "I killed him as soon as he'd told me your name, your species, your rank, how to capture you, how to torture you, how to break you and how to kill you." Sam's voice got scarier and more threatening with every word.
I trembled, trying unsuccessfully to choke back a sob.
Sam chuckled darkly. "It doesn't look like the last few will be too hard."
I tried desperately to get mad. If I could be angry, maybe I could stay away from breaking. I was just so scared, and then with the continuing nightmare feel from losing my grace… I couldn't seem to get angry. I was just too miserable and afraid.
I had to do something. If I just lay there crying Sam wouldn't even have to break me. Anything was better than the horrible emptiness and pain that wouldn't let go of me. So I struck out at Sam in the only way left to me. I kicked him.
The angle was terrible, and my leg barely reached. I didn't hit him very hard at all. Still, I got my point across. I was not broken, and I was not breaking anytime soon. He could kill me, sure, but I still had control in my own head. Oh no. He could kill me! I forgot that part.
My lip trembled again. Why was this happening? I'd just been toying with a couple of hunters. I did that all the time, and none of them had ever found out who I was, much less captured me like this. I knew Sam was special; he was Lucifer's vessel. But he was still just a human! This shouldn't be happening.
"I'll have to punish you for that," Sam growled.
I'd only kicked him! It couldn't even have hurt him much.
"Let me go!" I yelled. "You can't do this! I'm an archangel, not some monster for you to torture!" Well, I got mad.
"You became a monster when you started killing people," Sam said. "And now you're nothing."
I winced as his statement hit me closer to home than I'd like. I was the youngest and smallest archangel. Heaven's runaway that everybody had given up on, if they'd ever cared. I clenched my jaw. Just because I'd lost didn't mean I should make Sam's life easy.
"I'll n-never be nothing," I told him. "Even graceless, I'm still G-gabriel, and nothing can ch-change that. So go ahead and try." I tried to sound braver than I felt. I'm not sure how much it worked.
"Fine," Sam said. He pushed me over onto my side, the awkward angle putting painful pressure on my wrists. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.
Sam undid the buckle on my jeans and started pulling them down. I tried to jerk away from him, but there was nowhere to go. All I did was make my wrists sting.
"What the hell are you doing?!" I demanded, my voice betraying the absolute terror I felt.
Sam turned his head to look at me, and for a split second I saw a trace of the compassion that used to always be there in his eyes. And then it was gone. His face went back to being the darkened mask of anger and bitterness he'd put on after Dean's death.
"I'm spanking you," he said coolly.
I collapsed in relief. "Oh, thank goodness. Wait, you're spanking me? What the- why?"
Sam didn't answer. And I honestly didn't care all that much. As long as he wasn't going to rape me, it couldn't be that bad. I mean, it could be bad, but I'd still feel relieved. At least for the first five minutes. I'm kind of undermining my argument, aren't I? Oh well. I do that a lot.
Sam dragged my pants down to my ankles and started untying my shoelaces. I was too focused on the pain in my wrists from being tilted sideways to resist. Pain feels different now that I'm basically human. It was more painful, but a lot more manageable as an archangel.
Sam got my shoes off and took away my pants. I shivered. It was colder in the room than I was used to, or maybe I was just more temperature dependent as a human. That was probably it. I could sense temperature as an archangel, but it didn't seem important and certainly wasn't uncomfortable. Absolute zero to having a picnic in the middle of a star, it was all just a game. And now a slightly chilly room was enough to make my whole body shake. Oh, how the mighty have fallen! OK, so I'm being a drama queen. Sue me.
Then Sam went to pull my boxers down. For all I'd been expecting it, I panicked. I flipped sideways and fell off the bed. Most of my weight yanked on my wrists, and those abysmal handcuffs dug horribly into my abused skin. I screamed. That hurt.
Sam was quick to pick me up, taking the weight off my wrists. I almost forgot I was mad at him for a moment. He set me down on the bed on my stomach, in the position that didn't strain my wrists. Damn those handcuffs. I was too busy crying to notice Sam removing my boxers.
He waited for a while before spanking me. I don't know if he was trying to make me nervous with the delay, or just wanted to give me time to collect myself. If it was the second, then it didn't work. I wanted to recover quickly from my latest bout of sobbing and be stoic all through the spanking, but it wasn't working out well for me. I just got more scared and cried harder.
I don't know why I was so scared. It was just a spanking; it wasn't going to even really hurt, surely. I'd never been spanked without my power removing all the pain and stuff, but it was a kid punishment. It wasn't supposed to be serious. So I'd be fine. Yeah, definitely fine, totally not panicking here. The fact that I was hyperventilating didn't mean I was scared. I was completely calm. OK, so lying to myself wasn't very effective.
Sam pulled me up into a kneeling position, careful to keep from straining my arms against the handcuffs. So, that was something. It didn't benefit him to make sure the sharp edges weren't digging into my skin, so he was actually being considerate, almost. Maybe Sam could still be redeemed if I could find a way to escape and regain my power. Yeah, like that was ever happening. I was trapped, completely at his apparently nonexistent mercy. The worst thing was that this was Sam. Even if I hadn't had a crush on him, he used to be the kindest person I knew.
My scrambled thoughts were cut off when his hand came down hard on my exposed butt. It hurt much worse than I'd been expecting. When I was a powerful archangel, I didn't care very much about the natural strength and durability of my vessel. I was just looking for a cute person who could hold me indefinitely with only a few spells for upkeep. Unfortunately, I'd selected a small, fragile human with almost no physical power. And now I was a small, fragile, powerless almost human myself, and the slap was a lot harder on me than it would've been on a more average guy. The pain spread through me with a horrible stinging sensation. I cried out. I couldn't help it. Tears stung my eyes.
Sam slapped me again. The pain was worse, although at least it didn't take me by surprise. The hits came more frequently after that. They blurred together in a daze of pain. But then it wasn't just pain, either. I'd never been interested in this kind of thing before, but the growing sensation in my lower belly was distinctly arousal. Which was really bad.
It hurt enough to make me sob and scream, so I should not be aroused. And, what if Sam noticed? What if he- I started hyperventilating in sheer terror. It was covered up by my cries, so I didn't think there was any risk of Sam noticing.
However, I was naked from the waist down. Well, unless you count my socks, which I didn't. So I needed to kill my erection before it grew to the point where Sam would see it, cause there was nothing to cover it. I thought maybe if I focused on the pain, it would hurt enough to stop whatever stupid reaction my body was having to being spanked.
But the sensual, sickening agony of having Sam's handprint being dug into the bruised flesh on my ass again and again had the opposite effect from what I'd intended. My cock swelled. A particularly vicious hit made me moan.
The hits stopped, signaling that Sam had noticed my arousal. I whimpered.
"What the-" Sam said, startled.
He didn't say or do anything for a minute. I got nervous, and my erection hurt. My tears were still falling, though my pillow was soaked with them. I squiggled unhappily.
Warm fingers traced up the side of my cock. I bucked my hips, whining helplessly. And then the fingers were gone. Even as I sobbed in relief, I felt horribly deprived. The stupid part of my mind that I wish would go die had wanted Sam to hold me down and fuck me. The rest of my mind was in agreement that suffering was much better than being fucked by my captor. That was the worst thing that could happen to me now.
Out of nowhere, Sam's hand came down hard on my abused backside. I cried out in shock and pain. He'd been spanking me for ages, and I was sure I was black and blue by now. It certainly felt like it. The hits came fairly steadily for a while, hard and fast. I tried not to think about how my dick was swelling more with every slap of Sam's hand. The pleasure was soon nearly as great as the pain.
My tears slowed and nearly stopped. I was gasping, writhing and moaning, making sounds like the bottom in a BDSM porno would make. I should know; I've starred in a few. The pain felt so sexual- I found myself rocking back against Sam's hand as he hit me.
I lost the power of coherent, conscious thought. I spread my legs like a cheap whore, moaning desperately.
"Please," I whined.
Sam stopped slapping me. "I didn't know you had a pain kink," he complained.
"Please, please, please, Sammy, please," I begged, too dazed to even know what I was begging for. I whined, circling my hips.
Sam hesitated for a moment. Then his hand came gently to rest on my sore bottom. He massaged a little with a circular motion. The pain of even a light touch on the bruises was horrible, but it just turned me on more. I moaned again, pressing up against his hand. His other hand brushed against my cock. He jerked me off with a quick, rough rhythm. I came hard, screaming from pain, pleasure and overstimulation.
Streaks of my cum decorated the sheets below me. I would've collapsed and fallen in it, but Sam caught me roughly. He was strong enough to hold me in the air while removing the dirtied sheets. He set me down on the bed and walked away.
Clarity eventually returned to my mind, and I cried from the horror of what had happened. I couldn't even really say he'd raped me, because I was begging him for it. At least we hadn't gone all the way. Just to third base. The worst thing? It was the hardest orgasm I'd had in years. And I got it from my captor torturing me.
What was wrong with my head? How on Earth and all the other planets had that been arousing?! This never should have happened. I felt so dirty and ashamed. I cried myself to sleep that night.