Sam stared at the canopy hanging above his bed, the soft velvet stretched smooth expanse of the wooden frame of the massive bed. Beside him Dean whimpered softly, curled in a tight ball and facing away from Sam. Smirking slightly, Sam pulled himself from the bed. Stretching his firm body, he stared down at his newest present. He wondered how long it would take to break the man, how long it would be until he had to purchase a new play toy. Briefly Sam considered his slave's name, the name his mind had been quick to supply him with. Thinking back he couldn't remember ever being given a name for his present and it seemed odd that his mind had been so willing to apply the name Dean to the man.
"What is your name?" Sam asked as he slipped a button through the hole in his shirt, reaching to give the same treatment to the next button in line.
"I have no name, I am yours to name, master." Dean was awkwardly standing next to the door, already dressed in the suit Sam had handed him.
"Oh, well I'll deal with that later, Slave." Sam shrugged his coat on, smiling briefly as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. "Let's go, my party is about to begin."
Sam took his slave by the arm, practically pulling him into the hallway. In truth, Sam was not excited for this celebration of his life. He was not excited that he was forced to fake a smile and discuss his plans for his father's business; most of all he was not excited that he had to announce that his sex slave was male to a hundred uptight business men and women. The idea of curling up in his soft sheets was alluring but the repercussions would be severe. As he walked down the swirling staircase, Sam wondered briefly if this was all his life would ever entail. For a moment, he felt as though he faced purgatory…a life filled with bitter nothingness until at last he died of old age. Once again, Sam felt the urge to run.
"Master? We are going to be late if we do not hurry." Dean's voice pulled Sam from the recesses of his own mind, returning him to the staircase where he stood motionless.
"Yeah, yeah I'm going." Sam rolled his eyes and pushed all of his thoughts away. Winchester's did not try and escape fate.
As Sam opened the door leading to his back patio, he was bombarded by a million voices screaming happy birthday, a million unfamiliar faces. A few of his "friends" from school stood near the pool, laughing loudly at some joke. Sam felt the familiar tingle in his stomach as he looked around at the party he was completely disconnected from. These people who were celebrating his birthday did not know him, and Sam couldn't help but wonder if he even knew himself anymore. Sam wasn't sure he had ever known himself, if there was a self to know.
"Samuel, I would like you to meet my colleagues, Mr. Colt and Mr. Singer. They run the technology division of my company. I think this is the perfect place for you to begin so I have set up an internship for you." His father smiled, his eyes cold and flat.
"What about school?" Sam met his father's gaze, confusion and anger flickering over the younger man's features.
"Well, since you seem to enjoy staying home I figured you wouldn't mind missing school. I have already arranged for you to graduate, you do not need to be present."
"And if I want to be present?" Sam knew that arguing with his father at an event was a bad idea, but he couldn't fathom working for his father's company so soon.
"Prove it to me and attend school. If you cannot bring yourself to make it then I am going to have to make you work." His father's voice was stern, power leaking through his tone and into the air.
Sam nodded and walked away, pulling his slave right along with him. Around him the world was spinning, groups of people playing party games and laughing too loudly. Sam was just as disconnected from them as the slaves serving their beverages. Walking around slowly, Sam greeted his guests and participated in games. After playing a round of poker Sam moved to dance with his mother. Mary was dressed in a modest and completely appropriate green silk dress, her blond hair hanging down in loose curls. Sam felt no particular bond with the woman, really they barely spoke and she had always been quick to pass him off to the closest slave. Twirling the petite woman around for the duration of the song, Sam felt a thousand eyes on him.
"As all of you know, today is my son's sixteenth birthday. As the law states, he is now legally able to purchase a slave for companionship. Typically, this would not require public attention, but as my son is openly gay, Mary and I feel it is important to inform all of you that he purchased a male slave. Winchester Inc has always encouraged individuality and we continue this within our own family." Sam shifted away from his mother and the attention being given to him as his father launched into a spiel about how wonderful his company is.
"Master? Are you not having fun? You seem upset." Dean stared at Sam, concern lining his features.
"I am fine, Slave. I have simply had enough of these party games." Sam forced a bright smile as he walked over to his massive cake. "Ladies and gentlemen I would like to retire as it seems I need to do some homework. Before I go I would like you all to meet my slave." Sam motioned towards Dean, who looked like a deer in headlights, a deep blush staining his cheeks. "See ya'll."
Sam dragged Dean away by the arm, not bothering to eat a piece of the cake with his name boldly written along the top. Sam practically ran inside the house, his slave following loyally behind. Throwing his bedroom door open, Sam ran straight to his bed, flopping onto and mumbling at Dean to shut and lock his door. Sam pushed his face into his pillow, trying to hide the waves of emotion over whelming him. The bed shifted as Dean moved to lay next to him, a warm hand combing through his hair in an attempt at comfort.
"Don't fucking touch me, Slave. Your place is not to act like my fucking boyfriend. Just strip and bend the fuck over because that is all you're good for." Sam's hand connected with Dean's face, a loud crack filling the air.
For a moment, Sam was angry with himself, angry that he was punishing an innocent person for his family's flaws. The guilt faded before it had a chance to hurt him, shifting into another wave of anger. How dare his Slave touch him as though he pitied Sam, no one pitied a Winchester. Sam wanted to hurt Dean, to punish him for the intimate touch. Pulling himself up, Sam moved quickly as he stripped all of his clothes off, throwing them in random directions. Sam grinned as Dean whimpered, the sound vibrating straight to Sam's hardening length. Sam was not gentle when he pulled Dean's shirt off, tearing at the fabric until he heard a rip and the material fell away. Dean was trembling, his eyes tightly closed as Sam's fingernails scrapped across his taunt stomach as he pulled the undershirt away. Distantly, Sam could feel blood on his Slave's stomach but his dick was urging him to hurry, his anger guiding his hand as he pulled the belt from Dean's pants. Wrapping the warm leather around Dean's wrists, Sam tied him to the bed.
"You belong to me, you're not my fucking lover. You're just a sex toy I get to play with." Sam slapped Dean again, hard across the apple of his cheek.
In the dim light of the room, Sam could see his handprint in red across the beautiful bound man's cheek. Pushing Dean's pants down without bothering to unbutton the clasp, Sam heard another small whimper as he bruised Dean's legs. Dean's boxers were stripped away with little fight, the man's eyes still closed and his face hidden behind his bicep. Sam growled in frustration as he stared at Dean's soft length, the trembling man was simply trying to hide away and ignore Sam. Sam was not the type to be ignored.
"You're going to fucking look at me before I make you." Sam grabbed his Slave's chin, and turning his face up. "Get hard."
Sam was surprised to hear the small sob that left the man's lips; it caught him completely off guard. When he had forced himself on Dean earlier there had been so little resistance and even less emotion coming from the man. Sam pushed away the distinct feeling of guilt and instead focused on his anger. Lining up, Sam pushed inside of Dean in one quick motion. The man was still loose and slick from their earlier encounter and Sam wasted no time in letting him adjust. Ignoring the fact that Dean was still soft and whimpering under him, Sam circled his hips. It was rough and fast, forcing small pained sounds from Dean and filling the air with the sounds of skin hitting skin.
"Don't you ever fucking pity me." Sam practically growled, slamming in hard enough to cause the bed to his the wall. "I own you, you're a fucking whore."
Sam was trying to ward off the impending orgasm, to prolong this conquest but all too soon he felt his balls pull close to his body and a familiar sensation in his stomach. He came fast and hard, filling his Slave with his spunk. Sam rolled away the moment he was finished, not wanting to touch the man he had violated. The silence filled the room for a moment before Sam heard the distinct sound of crying. Dean was still trembling, shaking the bed ever so slightly.
"Do you still pity me, Slave?" Sam's voice was thick, the anger still coating his words.
"Yes, I still pity you." Dean's voice was quite, fading as though he had simply given up on trying to speak.
"You don't fucking pity me, I have a perfect life." Sam tasted the lie on the tip of his tongue.
"You're empty, hollow. You're not even close to perfection. Your life is pathetic." Sam hit his slave for what felt like the millionth time before reaching to free him from his bind to the bed frame. Sam pushed at Dan until he fell to the floor with a thud.
"Fuck you. Sleep on the floor like the dog that you are." Sam snarled, rolling over to face the other wall.
"Better than sleeping in a bed of lies." Sam was too tired to bother hurting Dean, opting to simply stare at the city lights shining in from the floor to ceiling windows.
(A/N: Thank you MssTripTucker for editing this and giving great feedback as always. Reviews make me write much faster…my muse has an ego)