Supernatural: Dean Winchester/Benny Lafitte
Title: Slave 4 U
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean/Benny
Rating: R
Theme: Darkness
Words: 458
Summary: Many nasty things were said about pirates. Some of them were true. But most of them didn't apply to Benny.
Warnings: AU. Slave!Dean. Explicit sexual relationships. Implied non-con. Teaser of a longer fic, found here.
It was an auction, he had been told. There were some items the Old Man intended to acquire for himself and for his crew, and only took his most trusted mates with him. Benny and two other followed suit.
The auction started with objects of evident supernatural origin (well, shiny and mysterious often meant supernatural, didn't they?), in which the Old Man took no interest. He did however, start to smile when the announcer exclaimed that the real thing was about to start, as did other potential buyers. The place wasn't big, but the people were far apart from each other, in order to not recognize each other he presumed. He couldn't identify anyone, but then again, he didn't know anyone so...
"Here it comes, boys" the Old Man grins. "You've been good to me. You can choose from what comes now, whichever prize you want for your behaviour."
Benny felt a wave of gratitude towards him like he had never felt, until the prizes entered the place.
Two men and a woman, barely covered by a brown loincloth (the woman's breasts weren't covered, though), their hands and feet spourting shackles that subdued them to docility. Their faces were emotionless, all of them kept looking down, unable to face the small crowd before them. He couldn't see them, but he could tell the look of pain in their eyes, those dull eyes of doom that he was sure he couldn't face without vomiting (well, technically he couldn't vomit, vampire and all, but the thought counted). He knew what these people were.
Slaves.
"Let's begin with the first, shall we?" the auctioneer announced. He snapped his fingers and the one closest to him stood up to face them all.
The look the slave sported wasn't the one he expected, to say the least. It was challenging, daring, as if inviting the crowd to make a fool out of him and see where it took them. There was probably pain hidden behind it, sure, but he made a hell of a job putting it behind him. He wasn't very tall, but ripped and with muscles in all the right places, with gorgeous hazel eyes and -because, well, the loincloth was small and tight- evidently well-endowed.
Benny looked at the Old Man withouth a second thought. Without any thought, actually. He didn't want him for... whatever it was that this slaves did.
If there was a chance to save him from falling to the hands of such sadists as his crewmates, he would take it.
"If you want it, my dear Benny" the Old Man says cryptically, raising the sign they were using to bid. "Then it should be yours."
Benny didn't fail to notice his use of the word 'it'.
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean/Benny
Rating: R
Theme: Darkness
Words: 458
Summary: Many nasty things were said about pirates. Some of them were true. But most of them didn't apply to Benny.
Warnings: AU. Slave!Dean. Explicit sexual relationships. Implied non-con. Teaser of a longer fic, found here.
It was an auction, he had been told. There were some items the Old Man intended to acquire for himself and for his crew, and only took his most trusted mates with him. Benny and two other followed suit.
The auction started with objects of evident supernatural origin (well, shiny and mysterious often meant supernatural, didn't they?), in which the Old Man took no interest. He did however, start to smile when the announcer exclaimed that the real thing was about to start, as did other potential buyers. The place wasn't big, but the people were far apart from each other, in order to not recognize each other he presumed. He couldn't identify anyone, but then again, he didn't know anyone so...
"Here it comes, boys" the Old Man grins. "You've been good to me. You can choose from what comes now, whichever prize you want for your behaviour."
Benny felt a wave of gratitude towards him like he had never felt, until the prizes entered the place.
Two men and a woman, barely covered by a brown loincloth (the woman's breasts weren't covered, though), their hands and feet spourting shackles that subdued them to docility. Their faces were emotionless, all of them kept looking down, unable to face the small crowd before them. He couldn't see them, but he could tell the look of pain in their eyes, those dull eyes of doom that he was sure he couldn't face without vomiting (well, technically he couldn't vomit, vampire and all, but the thought counted). He knew what these people were.
Slaves.
"Let's begin with the first, shall we?" the auctioneer announced. He snapped his fingers and the one closest to him stood up to face them all.
The look the slave sported wasn't the one he expected, to say the least. It was challenging, daring, as if inviting the crowd to make a fool out of him and see where it took them. There was probably pain hidden behind it, sure, but he made a hell of a job putting it behind him. He wasn't very tall, but ripped and with muscles in all the right places, with gorgeous hazel eyes and -because, well, the loincloth was small and tight- evidently well-endowed.
Benny looked at the Old Man withouth a second thought. Without any thought, actually. He didn't want him for... whatever it was that this slaves did.
If there was a chance to save him from falling to the hands of such sadists as his crewmates, he would take it.
"If you want it, my dear Benny" the Old Man says cryptically, raising the sign they were using to bid. "Then it should be yours."
Benny didn't fail to notice his use of the word 'it'.