p class="MsoNormal""Strip."/p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"The word made her body shudder involuntarily, so noticeable that there was no way the two men in front of her didn't see it. But it wasn't about sex now, it was protocol. They needed to check for bites, they didn't trust her, the way they didn't trust anyone. It didn't matter how long they'd been together, how many hunts they'd done, how many times she'd saved them or they had saved her. It was just protocol. Her fingers shook slightly as she unzipped her jacket and turned so she could drape it across the chair at their bare kitchen table. She kept her back to them as she pulled her shirt over her head and laid it across the jacket. One by one, methodically, she removed each article of clothing and fought the urge to cry or vomit, or both. She knew she hadn't been bitten, there was no danger they would find something that would finally allow them to rid themselves of her, it was the after that was weighing on her heavily. It was the after that always came from failure./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"She was naked but there wasn't shame, just dread. She turned back to them and Sam stepped forward first, moving her hair from her shoulder gently and forcing her to tilt her neck to the side so he could inspect her. Dean took her arm and ran his hand down it, his fingers calloused on her skin, scratching at her but not really. They wouldn't find anything. The inspection didn't take long, but she felt the lingering fingers in places she didn't want touched, the squeeze of the nipple, the stray hand on her inner thigh. "She's fine." Sam said it first, pulling back from her to move his hand back up to her temple, pushing the hair away from the wound on her head. Like any head wound, it wasn't anywhere as bad as it looked, but the blood was still matted there and she needed a butterfly bandage to close the last bit of congealing blood still oozing out. Just as Sam had finished that, Dean had nodded to him, and the bile rose, the dread returned./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"Sam took her arms in his hands and she couldn't stop herself from flinching away from him, a move which this time was not unnoticed and she saw his face change, his jaw twitch, annoyance shrouding what had before been pity. "What do you think you're doing?" His grip tightened and unceremoniously he forced her over the table, her hips digging sharply into the wood. One hand remained on her back, forcing her to stay in place as he moved to the other side of the table, by her head. Nora squirmed uncomfortably, trying desperately to get her hips in a better place, trying desperately to ignore that she was currently totally on display to the other Winchester in the room. "Give me your hands, now." Sam's voice was hard now, and she knew it was over. Her fate was sealed. There was no out./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal""Wait, please-" the fear in the room was palpable, and now she was trapped, Sam hadn't waited for her to comply and had reached across the small table to grab her wrists himself and force her arms up, both stretching her thin frame further over the table, exposing her ass and back to Dean completely while also effectively immobilizing her. She turned her head so her cheek was pressed against the worn wood, unable to stop the tears welling in her eyes. She didn't know what was going to happen butspan style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanshe could guess. This position was reserved for one of two things, raping her turns or whipping her. As infantile as it was, the whippings were almost worse. They lasted until she was bleeding or they tired out, whichever came first, and usually it was blood. She'd be unable to move for a whole day after, and the wounds would take weeks to heal. At least fucking was fast, even as dry and nauseous as she felt./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"She could hear the clang of his belt buckle as he pulled it from his pants behind her. "What did you do wrong?" Dean's voice was low, Sam squeezed her wrists in warning and to ground her, and she knew she was expected to answer him now. He was moving, from behind her to her side, and now his hand was on her lower back pushing her further into the wood. If they pushed hard enough, maybe she would meld into the wood completely and disappear. emCan I disappear? Can I leave? Would it be so bad to be out there…/em/p
p class="MsoNormal"em /em/p
p class="MsoNormal"The CRACK of the belt across her ass snapped her sharply from her thoughts and she yelped like a beaten dog, straining against the hold of the men above her. The burn was intense, the first ten were always the hardest on unmarred skin, being spanked with leather was like having your flesh flayed from your bones after awhile, and it never got easier to take. "I asked you a question!" The growl in his voice left no room for hesitation or argument, and to set the tone, he quickly brought the belt up and down on her ass three more times in succession. She whined, this wasn't like when they hit her in the face or shoved her down, or forced her to do military drills until she vomited, or made her stand outside in freezing weather naked until she passed out, she could usually control her voice, control her movements then, hide her discomfort and shame and the pain of it all. With this type of punishment, they liked to hear her beg, plead, cry, squirm around. The delicate balance between them was all laid in how convincing she could be while they hurt her. It was exhausting./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal""I didn't do recon," her teeth clenched tightly, her feet drumming slightly against the floor as if she could shake off the pain from the belting./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal""Sir." He ordered, another harsh line of fire across her lower back and she groaned miserably./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal""I didn't do recon, sir," she turned her face away from him now, unable to stop the tears from flowing down her nose onto the table. This was painful, but more then that it was humiliating. Bent over like a child, being spanked by a belt as though it was an angry father punishing his errant ward, naked and held down, expected to beg and plead and promise to never do it again. The psychological torture they put her through was more then she could bear sometimes. For a few moments he let the belt do the talking, striking over and over, sometimes overlapping in spots he had already struck, some hitting her back, but most hitting her ass, her thighs, her legs. He knew how this made her feel, he knew how hard it was for her to take, and that's why he did it. She would take every lash and apologize as many times as he required, and they would continue until she was too bruised to sit for the next week without thinking about him. About her mistake./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal""Again."/p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"She closed her eyes against the sounds of her own sobbing, unable to stand still now, moving around so much that he had been forced to place his hand back down on her back to hold her in place./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal""I didn't…do…recon…sir," she cried bitterly as he continued to belt her, it felt like her body had caught on fire and there was no way to put it out. Humiliation into defeat. Defeat into a learned lesson. A learned lesson into no mistakes the next time. He was harsh because he had to be. He was harsh to keep her alive. He was harsh because they couldn't lose her almost more then she couldn't lose them. This cycle of abuse and warfare was necessary for all of them, regardless of where they'd be left at the end of it./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal""Again."/p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"And again. And again./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"The word made her body shudder involuntarily, so noticeable that there was no way the two men in front of her didn't see it. But it wasn't about sex now, it was protocol. They needed to check for bites, they didn't trust her, the way they didn't trust anyone. It didn't matter how long they'd been together, how many hunts they'd done, how many times she'd saved them or they had saved her. It was just protocol. Her fingers shook slightly as she unzipped her jacket and turned so she could drape it across the chair at their bare kitchen table. She kept her back to them as she pulled her shirt over her head and laid it across the jacket. One by one, methodically, she removed each article of clothing and fought the urge to cry or vomit, or both. She knew she hadn't been bitten, there was no danger they would find something that would finally allow them to rid themselves of her, it was the after that was weighing on her heavily. It was the after that always came from failure./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"She was naked but there wasn't shame, just dread. She turned back to them and Sam stepped forward first, moving her hair from her shoulder gently and forcing her to tilt her neck to the side so he could inspect her. Dean took her arm and ran his hand down it, his fingers calloused on her skin, scratching at her but not really. They wouldn't find anything. The inspection didn't take long, but she felt the lingering fingers in places she didn't want touched, the squeeze of the nipple, the stray hand on her inner thigh. "She's fine." Sam said it first, pulling back from her to move his hand back up to her temple, pushing the hair away from the wound on her head. Like any head wound, it wasn't anywhere as bad as it looked, but the blood was still matted there and she needed a butterfly bandage to close the last bit of congealing blood still oozing out. Just as Sam had finished that, Dean had nodded to him, and the bile rose, the dread returned./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"Sam took her arms in his hands and she couldn't stop herself from flinching away from him, a move which this time was not unnoticed and she saw his face change, his jaw twitch, annoyance shrouding what had before been pity. "What do you think you're doing?" His grip tightened and unceremoniously he forced her over the table, her hips digging sharply into the wood. One hand remained on her back, forcing her to stay in place as he moved to the other side of the table, by her head. Nora squirmed uncomfortably, trying desperately to get her hips in a better place, trying desperately to ignore that she was currently totally on display to the other Winchester in the room. "Give me your hands, now." Sam's voice was hard now, and she knew it was over. Her fate was sealed. There was no out./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal""Wait, please-" the fear in the room was palpable, and now she was trapped, Sam hadn't waited for her to comply and had reached across the small table to grab her wrists himself and force her arms up, both stretching her thin frame further over the table, exposing her ass and back to Dean completely while also effectively immobilizing her. She turned her head so her cheek was pressed against the worn wood, unable to stop the tears welling in her eyes. She didn't know what was going to happen butspan style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanshe could guess. This position was reserved for one of two things, raping her turns or whipping her. As infantile as it was, the whippings were almost worse. They lasted until she was bleeding or they tired out, whichever came first, and usually it was blood. She'd be unable to move for a whole day after, and the wounds would take weeks to heal. At least fucking was fast, even as dry and nauseous as she felt./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"She could hear the clang of his belt buckle as he pulled it from his pants behind her. "What did you do wrong?" Dean's voice was low, Sam squeezed her wrists in warning and to ground her, and she knew she was expected to answer him now. He was moving, from behind her to her side, and now his hand was on her lower back pushing her further into the wood. If they pushed hard enough, maybe she would meld into the wood completely and disappear. emCan I disappear? Can I leave? Would it be so bad to be out there…/em/p
p class="MsoNormal"em /em/p
p class="MsoNormal"The CRACK of the belt across her ass snapped her sharply from her thoughts and she yelped like a beaten dog, straining against the hold of the men above her. The burn was intense, the first ten were always the hardest on unmarred skin, being spanked with leather was like having your flesh flayed from your bones after awhile, and it never got easier to take. "I asked you a question!" The growl in his voice left no room for hesitation or argument, and to set the tone, he quickly brought the belt up and down on her ass three more times in succession. She whined, this wasn't like when they hit her in the face or shoved her down, or forced her to do military drills until she vomited, or made her stand outside in freezing weather naked until she passed out, she could usually control her voice, control her movements then, hide her discomfort and shame and the pain of it all. With this type of punishment, they liked to hear her beg, plead, cry, squirm around. The delicate balance between them was all laid in how convincing she could be while they hurt her. It was exhausting./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal""I didn't do recon," her teeth clenched tightly, her feet drumming slightly against the floor as if she could shake off the pain from the belting./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal""Sir." He ordered, another harsh line of fire across her lower back and she groaned miserably./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal""I didn't do recon, sir," she turned her face away from him now, unable to stop the tears from flowing down her nose onto the table. This was painful, but more then that it was humiliating. Bent over like a child, being spanked by a belt as though it was an angry father punishing his errant ward, naked and held down, expected to beg and plead and promise to never do it again. The psychological torture they put her through was more then she could bear sometimes. For a few moments he let the belt do the talking, striking over and over, sometimes overlapping in spots he had already struck, some hitting her back, but most hitting her ass, her thighs, her legs. He knew how this made her feel, he knew how hard it was for her to take, and that's why he did it. She would take every lash and apologize as many times as he required, and they would continue until she was too bruised to sit for the next week without thinking about him. About her mistake./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal""Again."/p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"She closed her eyes against the sounds of her own sobbing, unable to stand still now, moving around so much that he had been forced to place his hand back down on her back to hold her in place./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal""I didn't…do…recon…sir," she cried bitterly as he continued to belt her, it felt like her body had caught on fire and there was no way to put it out. Humiliation into defeat. Defeat into a learned lesson. A learned lesson into no mistakes the next time. He was harsh because he had to be. He was harsh to keep her alive. He was harsh because they couldn't lose her almost more then she couldn't lose them. This cycle of abuse and warfare was necessary for all of them, regardless of where they'd be left at the end of it./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal""Again."/p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"And again. And again./p
