The Bars
Author: 
jared4ever
Title: The Bars
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam, Dean, OMCs, OFCs
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: graphic torture, non-con, BDSM, hurt!Sam, hurt!Dean, hint of Dean/Sam later
Genre: PWP
Spoilers: General for aired episodes through season 6
Summary: A year after the Apocalypse, Sam and Dean are asked to help one of Bobby's old friends in the Caribbean, only to find themselves taken prisoner by a ruthless dictator
A/N: This was adapted from an old story I had seen online years ago called "A Session on the Bars," by an author named Cortez. I found a copy and as I was re-reading, I found myself imagining Sam and Dean in the story's predicament. I converted it into a SPN story, and had to change a lot to make it work, but if Cortez is out there somewhere, I dedicate this to you! Thanks to usmc75 for the inspiration, and anniespinkhouse for editing.
The Bars
Richard Coy watched the prisoner closely, as the guards manhandled him into the pool of light near the center of the room. He was as tall as Richard, broad-shouldered, and had the look of someone who had seen just about everything life had to throw at him.
Excellent, he thought. He loved the confident ones.
Smirking, he pointed at the man. "Now, if you will just take your clothes off, we'd like you kneeling up on those bars beside you..."
"You've got to be kidding," the prisoner scoffed, like many others often did, as he peered through the glaring lights at the ominously simple piece of apparatus bolted to the bare concrete floor at his side. Just a pair of parallel wooden struts, just over shoulder width apart and each one fixed across two solid, knee high posts. The flat narrow top of each bar, and the thick leather straps that dangled down from them, were dark and stained with moisture and hard use.
"Clothes off now, please...or would you like my men to strip you?" Richard chuckled, "Some people enjoy being forced..."
The young man growled out a scathing refusal, so Richard motioned for the guards, who stepped forward and began roughly undoing the buttons of the man's clothes and yanking the garments from his well-muscled body.
In the hot, sticky darkness of the cellar, his captors watched avidly, enjoying the view of smooth, tan skin as the expressionless guards freed the prisoner from his layers of shirts and jeans. "Remember, I want everything off... even those," Richard's voice carried softly from beyond the lights. The guards' fingers grasped the narrow waistband of the prisoner's boxers and removed even that inadequate covering.
The interrogators watched as the now naked man instinctively curled his body round,
cupping his hands in an attempt to shield his privates from their gaze. Richard smiled to himself. In a few minutes, once the prisoner was strapped into position, it would be exactly those places that they would work on first. "That's better. Now, Anna, help him onto the bars..."
Anna Cortez-Richard's most trusted assistant-was a slim, attractive woman in her mid twenties. As usual for their shared torture sessions, she was dressed in a short, white doctor's coat, her bare legs hinting that beneath the crisp, white cotton she was naked. High cheekbones and short cut black hair gave her face a severe appearance but, like Richard, her dark eyes were alight with the excitement and cruel anticipation of what they were about to do to the handsome young man before her. She motioned for the guards to move the prisoner into position, and soon the shaking young man was standing where she wanted, between the wooden bars.
The man resisted violently, but was too weak after two days of starvation-and being tied down in the hot sun-for it to matter, and the guards forced the man awkwardly onto the narrow bars. He winced as he was forced to kneel along the rough wood, straddling his legs wide apart. "No, no, knees forward...right forward, now kneel up..." Anna instructed.
Obedient to the woman's quiet commands, the brutish, barrel-chested guards nudged the young man forward, inch by inch, until he was poised at the front of each narrow beam, leg muscles quivering as he fought to keep his balance.
Once satisfied with the man's position, Anna worked with the speed of long practice: ankle straps first, then the wide, thick straps over the top of each calf to hold the knees hard against the wooden rail. With the man's legs secure, Anna Cortez took her time tightening the oiled leather straps in turn, moving round the short bars to pull each strong brass buckle tighter and tighter. The man moaned and grunted as his shins were clamped down against the wood and his lean flesh bulged out from each side of the leather straps.
Anna Cortez scratched her nails across the sensitive flesh of the man's immobilized inner thighs. She smiled as the man squirmed, trying to twist those powerful trunks away from her touch. The straps held him fixed against the bars, though; all he could do was twist his ankles and flex his toes...a little. She stroked the delicate flesh of the man's left inner thigh again, listening for that shuddering gasp as he tried to control his reaction to that tickling torment. Perhaps it would be fun to play more thoroughly with his erogenous zones later on in the session.
Anna left the man's thighs alone and turned her attention to his arms, pulling them backwards. "Hands together..." She instructed, though the man was hardly in any position to resist. The nylon tie made a sharp zzziip as she yanked it tight around the man's wrists. Finally, she reached up for the rope dangling from one of the hooks bolted to the beam above the bars. She pulled it through the man's cinched wrists and snapped the metal clip back on itself to complete the loop. In the darkness, two of the guards hauled the rope taut, dragging the man's thickly muscled arms up and away from his broad, tapered back, forcing his body to bow forwards.
"Aaaah!"
The man's sudden cry of protest was ignored. A near silence fell in the underground chamber as the rope was secured. The only sounds coming from the bowed figure of the man alone in the pool of light, a figure that shivered and trembled, chest moving rapidly as he panted with partially concealed fear and strain beneath the hot glare of the lamps, his thighs strapped wide, the taut muscles of his already abused body flexing spasmodically... ready for Richard to begin.
The stillness was broken by a rattle of equipment and the man twisted his head, staring frantically to his left to see what was happening. His eyes opened wide as he saw the polished wooden box, with its side handle and brass terminals, the coiled wires and the plastic tray of clips, probes and needles on the battered top of the trolley.
He started struggling in his bonds, grunting in anger and fear. The frantic straining made absolutely no difference at all. Anna just smiled and moved the trolley into position so the writhing man had the best view of the magneto that was Richard's favorite toy. Having come to the island uninvited, and clearly intent on interfering with Richard's private empire, the young man was about to discover the true depth of his mistakes.
Richard walked into the pool of light as Anna Cortez reached between the prisoner's thighs to fondle the man's dangling cock and balls.
"Now Mr. Winchester...Sam... you are going to discover some of the truly agonizing things we do to uninvited guests..."
He paused, watching his assistant's expert hands stroking the helpless, hanging member. "I think we'll start with that impressive tool that I see Miss Cortez is preparing so carefully for me." He picked up a large, shiny brass alligator clip, the thin red wires from each side snaking back to the connections on the magneto, and opened the jaws so Sam could see the wickedly serrated teeth.
Sam grimaced, trying to keep emotion off his face, but the fear was plain in his eyes. "Wait..."
Anna picked up a blue and white tube, squeezed some clear gel onto her fingers and
reached under the young hunter's arched body, using just a feather light touch of her fingertips to coat the large, heavy sack and long, rapidly stiffening penis with the glistening gel. Sam groaned. His abdominals clenched as he tried to control his body's natural reactions to the new sensations. "Stop!"
Watching his victim bite his lip in growing, unwanted arousal, Richard wondered if he realized that the gel being worked so skillfully across his privates was specially prepared to improve electrical contact in the skin. He grinned to himself, thinking with a familiar, delicious thrill of what he was going to do to this man in a few moments time.
Anna Cortez loved any chance to use the bars, the position left a man's cock and balls, or a woman's cunt, so wonderfully wide open for all the delicious things that could be done to them. She considered the young man on the bars. Late twenties, so well endowed...
With Richard watching patiently, she spent half an hour playing with Sam's genitals. He was unable to stop her. Masturbating him slowly while using the gel to provide an unbearable slippery sensation, she caressed the heavily veined shaft while her other hand rolled and fondled the soft weight of his testicles to bring him to the very brink before stopping.
"Ughhhhh!"
The wonderful excitement of letting his near-climax subside and then using her fingertips to torment the glistening, engorged dome of his glans, one finger teasing round the curving rim until he was again thrusting and jerking in the desperate search for that final, exquisite touch. "S-stop! Please! I-! UHHH!"
Finally, she used long, expert strokes that brought him to a sweating, jerking peak he simply was unable to resist. He bucked and thrust against the straps, mindlessly fucking her busy fingers until those last arching spasms sent thick jets of semen arcing out onto the floor as he came. She teased him with coarse encouragement, making him gasp and twitch while milking and tormenting his slippery cock, until even the pleasure became unbearable and he cried aloud in pain and frustration. "Aghhh!"
Anna rubbed her thighs together, feeling her own growing wetness against her busy finger as she waited for him to recover. Then, she took slow, skilful pleasure in working Sam's impressive, eight-inch cock back to full hardness, before indulging in the wonderful excitement of wiring him up.
First, a thin, wet leather lace around the base of his cock, wrapped tight to hold him throbbing and rigid for the interrogation. Then, a wide brass clip slipped into place gripping both his testicles...Oh God he squealed at that!
Richard fastened the connections to the magneto. Anna then slid on a rubber glove before taking the thin copper probe from her master's outstretched hand. With the clip in place, Richard himself stepped forward and stroked Sam's long hair, enjoying his victim's growing terror before he stepped back to the little table...and prepared to spin the handle of the magneto.
"Now, Sam, we're ready for you...so, watch my hand carefully. Can you feel it?" Richard wound the handle for a few moments, sending the first surge of current through the thin, red wires and into to Sam's testicles. The little machine whined softly and, for a split second, it seemed as though nothing happened. Then, almost in slow motion, Sam reared back against his bonds, his muscles and sinews locked rigid, as the electric shock ripped through his sculpted body.
"ARRRRRGGGGGHHHH!"
"As I turn this handle, so, now...you feel the pain? Oh yes, yes I see you do..."
The demented scream trailed away and Sam flopped back against the straps and the supporting rope, breath coming in heaving gasps as he tried to ride out the pain of that first, awful shock.
"Impressive, isn't it, Sam? You have no idea how useful a tool like this can be when maintaining order on my island."
"This isn't your island," Sam hissed, breath finally evening out.
"Oh, but it is," Richard correctly merrily. "I'm the one who restored order and law here, after the quake. I was the only one who was strong enough to lead."
"By using black magic to control the locals?!" Sam asked incredulously.
Anna had to admire the young man's courage, speaking to Richard that way even while in his current...condition. It was brave. And foolish.
"You came here to incite revolution," Richard said quietly, with a prosecutorial tone. "Tell me, who are you working with...and where are they right now?"
Sam shook his head, sweat running down his temples. "No one. I'm here alone."
"I see we have a long night ahead of us," Richard said, smiling, not at all disappointed. He nodded to Anna. Sam opened his mouth, but Richard shushed him. "No, no. It's all right. Soon there'll be no secrets between us." His hand returned to the handle.
As Richard worked the magneto, Anna slid the carefully rounded copper rod up the underside of Sam's cock, letting it snap and sizzle along his entire length, then inserted it into his urethra, working it in and out slowly and gently...each movement extracting squeals of agony. Sam's muscles clenched and strained, writhing visibly beneath his bronzed skin. Sweat poured off his already dehydrated body in the dank heat of the room. His broad back bowed as he tossed his head back and shrieked.
"AH-AH-AGGHHHHHH! AH-AGGHHHH!"
Oh yes, Anna loved using the bars...
*******
Dean was going to kill Bobby when they got back to the States. Just take a quick look, he had said.
Bobby had received a cryptic, rushed message, from a teenage boy named Raoul, who Bobby claimed had been a friend on a few of his Caribbean hunting trips. The message claimed that the boy's home, an island called Santa Costa-which Dean had to use a magnifying glass to find on a map-had been taken over by someone the kid described as a warlock, and people were suffering. The island had no value to any government, so no official help was ever going to come.
As far as Dean was concerned, the kid needed some half-assed rebel freedom fighters, not two hunters who had their hands full with the freakin' Mother of All monsters. Sam barely had his soul back, and Dean had spent the last few months worried to death about the wall in his little brother's brain being picked at...they didn't need to go wading into a revolution.
Sam, on the other hand, was still stinging from the knowledge that he'd almost killed Bobby while soulless, and had pushed Dean into saying yes. The little dot on the map didn't have an airport, and was hundreds of miles from anywhere, so they'd paid their way onto a freighter and then got a lift from a Dominican fishing boat captain-also a friend of Bobby's. Bobby seemed to know everyone!
Santa Costa had been almost destroyed the year before, hit by earthquakes and tidal waves during the Apocalypse. It left the whole of the island devastated. Many residents had fled, as had the dictatorial general who'd been "El Presidente" for decades before the disasters. With the authorities gone, the population leaderless, a new player had entered the scene: Richard Coy.
From what Sam had managed to find out, from talking to Raoul and scoping out the island, Coy had been a medical student there during the last years of the dictatorship, and when the opportunity arose, switched careers, as it was, and staged a coup.
They hadn't found any evidence of what had turned the young student into a power-mad monster, but Coy within a few months had taken over the whole island. His henchmen were everywhere. His opponents disappeared, usually with horrific stories attached-more likely rumors, Dean hoped-that kept the island's residents cowed and obedient.
But, then Raoul had disappeared, too. Dean and Sam had looked everywhere, but the kid was just gone. His apparent misfortune, though, had provided a vital clue. Raoul had put up a fight when whoever it was had come for him, and Sam had found traces of EMF all over Raoul's room, and ectoplasm.
That explained Richard's success at recruiting goons. Sam had put the clues together with some of Raoul's stories, and some information they'd gleaned from terrified locals. It seemed Richard was using spirits to possess his "loyal" soldiers. Worse, he had to be dabbling in serious black magic to keep so many angry spirits under his control.
We just have to break his control, Sam had said. Dispel the magic, and Richard's just a normal guy.
As usual, that was where everything went to hell. Sam had gone out to gather supplies for a powerful counter-spell...three days ago. Something bad had happened, and no one had seen anything, naturally. Or they were too afraid to talk to an outsider like Dean.
"This is Sam, leave a message." Dean threw his phone onto the bed in disgust. Three days, and no word. No clue where his brother had disappeared to. Dean growled. "Dammit, Sammy." He had no idea where to begin looking. All he could do was try and finish the spell that Sam had laid out.
Whatever plan he was forming was abruptly derailed, when he saw a small army of Richard's possessed goons forcing their way into the deserted house where he was squatting. The henchmen were eerily silent as they busted down the doors between the front of the house and the bedrooms.
Dean glanced around quickly, the weapons were in the next room. The best he could do was hide what he and Sam were planning, in hopes they could finish it later. He slammed the old Latin spellbook shut, pulling the bookmark from the page Sam had found. Maybe it would buy them some time.
The goon squad broke down the bedroom door. Four of them rushed him, brushing aside Dean's fists as though they didn't feel pain at all. After a pathetically brief struggle, they had Dean pinned against the wall.
Behind them, a man entered. He was about Sam's height, with close-cropped dark hair, and a sculpted, muscular build that his tight shirt didn't conceal. After a smug glance around the room, the man's eyes fell on Dean. He smiled, calm and arrogant, and he spoke with a plain American accent.
"You must be Dean."
*******
Anna Cortez watched with growing pleasure as Dean's body gradually reacted to the teasing stimulation of her slippery, expert fingers as they worked his nipples into thick, gleaming stubs. He was trussed up on the same bars as Sam had been the night before, legs spread and trapped, muscular arms pulled painfully behind him. The Winchesters obviously had good genes, as Anna had never encountered a finer pair of specimens, siblings or otherwise.
After three or four more minutes Anna looked up at Richard across the sheen of Dean's sweat-soaked back, her hands still cupping the hardened nipples with the forefinger and thumb of each hand stretching the hard, erect tips out to show that they were ready for the clips to be applied.
Dean had bent his head down, transfixed as the man and the woman so calmly and deliberately prepared his body for torture. His breathing became faster and faster, a hard rhythmic panting, on the edge of panic, as the woman held the firm, warm weight of his left pectoral cradled in her palm, holding it still to assist Richard in positioning the shiny, brass jaws right along the rigid peak of his nipple. He felt the woman's hot, excited breath in his ear as Richard's fingers relaxed and the brass teeth closed...
"Mmmphhh!" Dean grunted, keeping his mouth shut to deny his tormentors the pleasure of hearing his pain.
He squirmed madly as the metal teeth bit deep into the nerve-rich tip. His torturers just laughed, letting him jerk and flail about, enjoying the sight of his muscles flexing and stretching, the wire attached to the brass clip dancing wildly with each convulsion. After all, there was no real hurry, and besides, everyone knew that it was going to happen all over again when Richard clamped the brass teeth onto his other nipple...
With Dean readied, Richard took his place next to the magneto, just outside the circle of light around Dean's hanging body.
Richard wound the handle for a few moments, sending the first surge of current through the wires and into Dean's nipples. The machine whined, Dean's body bowed in his bonds, muscles going rigid as the electric shock ripped through his torso. It was so brief he didn't have time to scream.
"Ready again?" Richard said, not giving Dean a chance to recover. He moved his hand and the mocking smile widened, "Watch the handle now..."
The whine of the magneto was louder and more urgent this time. Once more, the hunter reared up, this time shouting his agony upwards to the vaulted ceiling, fingers and toes writhing madly as the lancing fire of the current scorched across his nipples and through his pecs.
"AAAAH! AH-AAAH! ARRRRGGGGHHH!"
For ten interminable minutes, Richard played Dean like an instrument of pain. The whining song of the magneto rose and fell as he spun the handle, deliberately varying the speed and surge of current, so that each time Dean bucked and twisted in a delirium of agony. Pinned to the bars that held his thighs apart, he could only flex his hips and upper body in response to the white hot agony of those repeated shocks.
The two torturers smiled at each other as they watched the wild dance of Dean's muscles, and the way the clips and wires flailed madly as he jerked and jolted at the devilish, fizzing touch of the electric current. The little brass teeth held firm to his hardened nubs despite his futile efforts to shake them loose; each clip gripping a now-swollen, purple nipple in an excruciating vice.
With the sadistic skill of long practice, Richard stopped turning the handle as Dean's cries took on the hoarse, ragged edge of exhaustion. Almost casually, he removed the clips, watching the hunter fighting to master the new, thudding agony of returning circulation.
Dean groaned thinly, almost a whimper this time, as Anna Cortez fingered the tender, taut, swollen flesh so that both of them could enjoy the sight of how he twitched and moaned at the lightest touch.
Lost in a world of pain, Dean didn't think about the obscene straddle of his thighs; or how his vulnerable, sensitive genitals were exposed for his torturers' attentions too. All he could think about was the agony of the electricity and the fresh stabbing pains each time the woman's fingers touched his tender nipples.
Richard spoke again. "We'll take a break, I think...allow an hour or so for his tits to swell up a bit more and he'll scream at the touch of a feather," Richard laughed. The woman smiled too; excited by the foreknowledge of where the agony was going to be applied the next time. She walked behind the tautly bound hunter, hands running over the slick curves of his firm buttocks, before probing the deep valley to finger the soft, crinkled bud of the muscular man's anus.
She leaned over, whispering into Dean's ear, building up the fear and anticipation of the next stage of the dreadful torture. "A little voltage up here and..." Her hand slid forwards, cupping the bulge of Dean's huge package and stroking the sensitive flesh at the tip of his cock with one, knowledgeable finger. "And here..."
He groaned.
"Then you will pray for us to go back to frying your nipples. I guarantee it! Just ask your brother...."
Dean's head snapped up to look at her. "W-what?"
Anna answered. "Oh, did we forget to mention? Sam has been our...guest here the past few days."
Fury quickly overtook the exhaustion on Dean's face. "W-where is he? What have you done to him?"
She looked at Richard, who grinned devilishly. "Why not see for yourself?"
*******
The thuggish guards walked Dean down a hallway, their ham-sized hands gripping his biceps and keeping his arms tightly behind his back. Richard walked ahead of them, Anna behind. They stopped in front of a thick, steel door, which Richard opened with a key.
Inside was a row of small jail cells. As Richard stepped aside and the guards moved Dean through the door, he immediately noticed the two prisoners inside the barred cages. Raoul was to Dean's left, unconscious-Dean hoped-and naked, his lean, muscled teenage body curled into a fetal position. Well, that explains how they know our names....
In the cell on his right, in an even more alarming state, was Sam.
He noted several things right away. Sam was hogtied, arms drawn tightly behind his back, his folded legs tucked beneath him. Sweat poured down his nude body...and his penis was rigidly erect. Dean couldn't help but see that Sam's member was visibly throbbing as it curved up toward Sam's abs. Precum dripped down the shaft, pooling in a large puddle between Sam's legs. He spotted several small burn marks along his brother's straining length.
On the floor, between Sam's cramping thighs, Dean noted a small brown hex bag. Richard noticed Dean's observation immediately.
"Yes, that is what it looks like," he announced lazily. "Keeps your brother's, shall we say, interest. He's been trapped...right on the brink...for almost a full day now."
Dean glared at their captor, but the guards forced him forward and down to his knees at the door to Sam's cage. He bit back what he was going to say to Richard and focused on Sam instead. "Sammy?"
The exhaustion was clear on Sam's face, deep bags beneath his eyes, hair dripping wet with sweat hanging down his face. Still, he blinked when he heard the voice. "D-Dean?"
"I'm gonna get you out of there, Sammy. Just hang on," Dean whispered, angry at his brother's condition. Richard overheard. He produced a small black cell phone, apparently rigged as a transmitter of some kind, with a mismatched antenna mounted along the side.
"Sam has been very uncooperative," Richard said, with vindictiveness dripping through his words. He pressed a button on the control, and suddenly Sam flinched, moaning loudly. Shudders passed through his tormented form. Dean heard a humming sound, then noticed for the first time a thick black cord running from behind Sam, out through the cage bars, and into a nearby power outlet.
Dean shifted over to the side, the guards let him. He spied a long black handle sticking out of Sam's ass. Richard pressed the button again, and the vibrator increased once again in intensity. Sam convulsed, sweat flying from his soaked hair. "Ahh! AHHHH! Please!"
The heinous situation became abundantly clear. The hex bag kept Sam hard but unable to come. The vibrator was probably pushing him to the brink of insanity. And Sam had been in Richard's "care" ever since he'd gone missing three days earlier.
His own fatigue forgotten, Dean spun on Richard, but the guards were there again, gripping his arms tightly. Richard smiled that creepy smile of his. "I hope you weren't under the impression that we broke your brother, Dean. "
Dean grimaced, silently ashamed. He had been assuming that. He should have known better, but given Sam's recent return from Hell, he'd just assumed that his sibling was too...fragile to endure what Richard was certainly capable of inflicting.
"We had him on the bars all night-not even counting the time he spent in the sweat box outside-but all we ever got was your name...and that was only when he was barely conscious. We only found a note in his pocket which led us to you. A pity, really. He might have spared himself a great deal of suffering if he'd only told me about you from the start."
Dean glanced back at Sam, who was moaning and trembling under the vibrator's assault, dick straining and leaking helplessly, oblivious to the discussion going on above his head. Richard clicked the button on the remote control, and Sam cried out, body shaking harder. "Stop it, you bastard!"
"I will, Dean," Richard declared smugly. "As soon as you tell me what you and your brother were trying to accomplish here."
"Fuck you," Dean spat. He wasn't about to tell Richard about that. It was their only chance of ever regaining their freedom at this point.
Richard grinned, a shark's grin. He reached out and slid his fingers across Dean's swollen, bruised nipples. Dean gasped in helpless pain as Richard's fingers massaged the tortured nubs. The pain was as intense as his captors had promised. "I have to admit...I was hoping you'd say that, Dean. Take him."
*******
Dean was strung up on the bars once more, Richard not quite done with him for the evening.
For her own amusement, while her master prepared a few other toys, Anna picked up a slim, black vibrator. Licking the curved plastic rod, she placed the rounded point in the dimpled folds of Dean's anus. "Ready to join your brother, Dean?" She pushed gently, not waiting for a reply.
Richard saw the hunter's eyes widen as she felt the intruder slipping through the ring of muscle into his back passage. He chuckled, trust Anna to keep him amused. As usual, his assistant was whispering to her victim, savoring the gasps and panting breaths as Dean gradually responded to the stimulation he was feeling.
Her thumb found the little switch in the dido's handle, "Come for us Dean." The buzzing was quiet and muffled as the vibrator came to life deep inside Dean's ass. Anna moved the handle, turning it gently so that the rounded point buzzed and fretted against the delicate tissues inside Dean's body. At the same time, she used her other hand to skillfully spread the clear gel over his rapidly swelling penis.
To Richard, quietly enjoying the way Anna Cortez was playing so intimately with their subject, the effect of the vibrator was much more obvious and dramatic. Dean's head lifted and his whole body surged forwards, mouth opening, fishlike, in a gasp of amazement and shock as he felt the sensations being generated deep inside him by the thin, vibrating rod. About thirty seconds later, he became frantic as he realized that the combination of her hand and the humming rod was going to force him to a climax, despite his pain and exhaustion.
"T-t-turn it off! No! STOP! Unnpphhh!"
Over the minutes his shouts changed. Dean thrust his hips to and fro, trying to escape the vibrator, but only pushed it deeper and deeper into his body. Soon, he worked himself to a climax in a flood of cum and a storm of spasming muscles. As Dean's orgasm sent him into that familiar huffing, bucking rhythm, Anna squeezed her gel-coated hand around his dick, trying to hold on despite his madly thrusting hips while she went on working the vibrator's buzzing tip against the most sensitive tissues of his prostate.
Ignoring the shouts and cries of outrage she kept Dean impaled on the buzzing rod, working it in and out of his rectum in synch with her slippery fingers along his cock until the sounds of despair told her that Dean was about to reach his second climax. The torturous buzzer forced him to stay at the peak of pleasure, despite his desperate cries for the maddening torment to stop.
"Naaah! Ahhh....aaa-aaaah...nah....naaah...oh...OH!"
The words were blurred into mindless babble as Dean rode the anal vibrator like a mad thing until his cock erupted a second time, and he was left panting and shivering on the very edge of collapse. Almost on the brink of coming herself, Anna Cortez pressed the button and the muffled, hornet-like buzzing stopped. Then, she carefully slid the vibrator free, leaving Dean hanging on the ceiling rope, the sweat pouring from his body and dripping onto the concrete floor below. She quickly reached between his quivering thighs and wrapped the thin leather strap around the base of his now hypersensitive member.
Richard watched Dean's slack, exhausted face for a moment and then held up the object he'd been connecting to the magneto. "Now you've had your fun Dean... it's time for us to discuss important matters."
In Richard's hands was a heavy-looking metal object with a handle, too big to be another sex toy. A long, pear-shaped top with seams along its sides swelled from a thick shaft that ended in a black plastic collar about two inches wide. Below the collar, a black, rubber handgrip extended a further three inches. A set of red wires curled from the base of the handle... wires that trailed back to more brass connections on the side of the magneto.
Dean's muscles twitched and flexed. His ribcage heaving frantically as he tried to catch his breath after his forced sexual ordeal. He twisted his head around to stare at the oddity Richard was holding.
He grinned at Dean, squeezing some of the clear electrolytic gel onto the rounded top. He worked it carefully over the whole surface, making sure Dean could see everything he was doing.
"You see, my friend, this is going where that little vibrator was a minute ago..." He caressed the smooth rounded top. "This was a popular tool in medieval times. Maybe you're heard of it?" He laughed, flicking the black collar with his nails, "It's known as the 'pear of anguish.'" Richard waited for Dean to absorb that, then continued, gesturing to the tool as if it was an item on the Home Shopping Network. "Well, it's a knockoff really, not quite a brutal as the original. This one won't tear skin and tissues. But, Raoul still found it very...persuasive. After a few minutes with this, he told us all about you and brother."
Bending down he held it under Dean's body until Anna could reach down and take it off him. Making sure the wire trailed free along the floor under the bars, Anna pressed the oiled pear between the slick spread cheeks of Dean's bottom until the polished head nuzzled against the ring of his anus. Richard nodded for her to begin, reaching up to hold the hunter's chin in one hand, gazing intently at his face to savor the expressions as the bulb was inserted slowly into his rectum.
"UH!" Dean squirmed, trying futilely to keep Anna from finishing her task. Richard watched Dean's deep green eyes widen as the pear reached its position, stretching the tender ring of muscle as it passed. "MMMPH!"
Both his torturers grinned at hearing the sudden, frantic panting as Dean tried to deal with the dreadful stretching pain of the pear's entry. Dean's face contorted in a sudden spasm, and he rocked violently against the straps as the bulbous shape of the pear popped abruptly through the tight ring of muscle. Once inside, he could feel the fullness of it sliding slowly up his rectum.
"Ugghhnnn!!"
Anna Cortez twisted the handle gently from side to side; making sure the man was fully impaled by the device, with the plastic collar pressing hard into the firm, muscular globes of his ass.
"So, we're almost ready, Dean. Let's just twist that handle a little, shall we?" As Richard spoke, Anna pressed her breasts against Dean's back, her hands reaching down and over the achingly spread thighs. Her fingers stroked the sensitive flesh along the insides of his legs before they moved up and back, toying with his nerve endings so that the brave hunter involuntarily shivered and trembled, body still humming from the stimulation of his recent orgasms.
Anna's fingers drifted up, the fingertips of each hand wrapping around the screw on the pear's handle. She gave it a few slow, long twists. The metal device split open inside Dean, four petals opening slowly, beginning to stretch the tender tissues of Dean's rectum.
Dean gasped as he felt the pear opening. His ass began to stretch painfully. Anna twisted a few more times, making the pear open wider and wider, until Dean was once more whimpering and groaning with a mixture of pain and fear, ready for their next agonizing attentions. Dean's muscles clenched defensively, trying to expel the cruel device, but that only had the effect of intensifying the pain.
Richard picked an alligator clip, much larger than the ones he'd used on Dean's nipples. He smiled as the trapped hunter slowly came to understand what he was about to do.
Watching in barely disguised fear, Dean forced his head down, peering at his own dick as the dreadfully sharp jaws of the clip touched the tender skin on either side of his thick shaft. "Ready, Dean?" Richard asked softly, letting his fingers relax. The jaws closed over the tender meat and Dean screamed as he felt the stabbing pain of the brass teeth biting into his cock.
Richard chuckled as he slapped Dean's pain-wracked face, none-too-gently smacking his cheek and dislodging beads of sweat that clung to his skin. "Shhhh, no not yet, Dean, not yet...remember, save your strength." He lifted Dean's chin so he could look across at the polished wooden box of the magneto, silently promising more intense experiences to come.
Anna let go of the handle of the pear, and walked round to join Richard. The two of them took an enjoyable few moments to stroke and fondle Dean's face, shoulders and pecs,
murmuring quietly to him and explaining in graphic detail what was going to
happen.
Finally, they both left him alone, and Richard moved over to the little table. "So, Dean, would you like to tell me what your plans here were...?"
Dean growled and babbled useless threats as he saw him reach across to grasp the worn handle on the side of the box.
Anna Cortez edged her hand back between the buttons of her white coat, her fingers stroking the slippery wetness that had soaked her genitals since she helped with the hunter's initial torture. She slid the fingers of her right hand up into the slit of her cunt, as the erotic sight of Dean strapped helplessly on the bars whipped at her senses. Dean's beautiful freckled skin was shiny with sweat; his muscles spasming beneath it. With his arms at full stretch up behind him, the lines of his pecs and abs undulated and flexed as he tried to control his racing breath.
But, what was bringing the woman to the very brink of her own orgasm, and creating the abject terror in Dean's mind as she stared down the length of his straddled figure, was the sight of the two electrical connections attached to the most sensitive points of that strong, beautiful body. The red wire was hanging from the heavy clip, with only the very tip of his foreskin showing where the toothed jaws held his cock in a cruel vice; and the black flex protruding from the pear buried in his anus. Both snaked away between his straddled thighs, to the magneto's brass connectors. The movements of Anna's fingers became more urgent as she saw the Richard touch the handle.
Silence fell as everyone paused, even Dean's frantic struggles stilled as Richard's hand moved in a slow, deliberate circle. Just one, single, shuddering gasp broke the stillness...then Richard's hand moved again, circling faster and faster as the rising whine of the magneto filled the room.
As though defying gravity, Dean rose against the straps that held him, hips thrusting forwards, body arching impossibly backwards, and teeth bared in a grimace of agony, as he was galvanized by the current surging into his cock and the delicate tissues of his ass. Wild, inhuman sounds bubbled in his throat, his eyes stared up at the ceiling... and a single, piercing scream of total agony echoed round the hot, sticky dimness of the underground interrogation chamber.
"AAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!"
Richard kept the handle turning for over a minute, varying the speed so Dean's tortured screams rose and fell as the current surged through his anus and dick. When he finally let the diabolical machine whine to a halt, the screams turned into frantic, choking sobs. Dean fell forward, barely conscious, and only supported by the wrist rope.
Richard waited for a few tormenting moments. "Ready again, Dean?" The machine whined, and the hunter surged upwards once more, as the fire blazed through his rigid member and the current burned and seared the delicate inner membranes of his strained rectum.
"AAH! AAAH!! AAAAArrrrrrggggggghhhhh!" Another scream of outrage and agony ripped through the cellar.
For Anna Cortez the sight of the current once again jerking Dean up into screaming, muscle wrenching spasms, was just too much. Her racing fingers brought her to her own swift, hard climax, her cries of release lost in the sounds of Dean's torture. As Anna closed her eyes and licked the slippery juices from her finger tips, Richard stepped up to the broken figure on the bars and once again lifted Dean's head.
"Now, my friend, shall we go on, or will you tell me what I want to know?" His hands caressed Dean's cheeks, wiping the rivulets of sweat away from his eyes. He spoke gently and quietly to the shivering man, "Yes, I know...it hurts so much, I know... but the machine, the little clips, they don't know...don't care how much they burn and sting... they don't get tired like you...the pain just goes on and on and on."
Dean wanted to tell him that he'd been to Hell, he knew all about pain. He knew demons that would call Richard an amateur. But, he decided to keep that to himself. If nothing else, Richard seemed to revel in these interrogations. Dean didn't want to raise the bar any higher, or Richard might just prove him wrong. And Richard's methods were painful. Dean's memories of the Pit didn't mean he was impervious to the agony that was being inflicted on his weakening body. Instead, he fell back on his tried and true sarcasm, but he found that forming a coherent thought was amazingly difficult when he opened his mouth. It was soon obvious that he wasn't even talking in complete sentences.
Richard bent closer, listening to the whispered, incoherent babble. "Yes I know Dean...you want it to stop so badly, we understand that too...so why not tell me what I want?" He waited, watching for the beginnings of defeat in the green eyes before him. "Perhaps, just to help you decide, we'll let the machine give you a little reminder... while Anna turns that handle again..."
"No," Dean managed to croak out, "NO...."
Richard knew he would break Dean, just like he would Sam...but he still enjoyed his work. The confession would come...it always did, but he was enjoying the man's increasingly desperate efforts to make him stop. He knew Dean's eyes were fixed on his hands as he moved back to the table and gripped the handle one more.
His hand circled slowly, and the magneto began its high pitched song of pain once more. This time Anna Cortez moved behind the straddled figure, twisting the screw that widened the pear's petals even further, stretching the sensitive inner walls of Dean's rectum almost to the point of tearing. Even as the flesh was forced further apart by the uncaring metal, the sizzling, crackling electrical current flowed through the wires and through the pear, into Dean's insides.
Between them, the two torturers kept Dean bucking and screaming for a full five minutes before they finally let him collapse against his bonds once more. Richard reached beneath Dean's muscular torso and delicately freed the clip from his now swollen and scorched cock. Dean whimpered and jerked as the teeth came free from the taut, throbbing shaft standing out so prominently from his trembling body.
Then, it was Anna's turn to make him shriek again, making the most of closing and removing the bulbous pear very slowly until Dean's cries gave way to groans of a different, deeper agony as the wide head was slowly pulled out, stretching the tender, abused membranes of his tight anus. Dean gave a final, shuddering gasp of relief as he felt the smooth, broad domed head of the pear slip free.
"Now Dean...want to talk?" Richard purred softly, "or would you like Anna to put the clips back on your nipples now they've had a chance to swell up properly...?"
Dean looked at the brass alligator clips swinging from their red wires in Anna Cortez's hand, and then stared down at the taut, horribly swollen stubs of his nipples...each one still pulsing and burning from earlier. Drops of sweat from his hair splashed onto the rough concrete floor.
He would tell them everything, eventually, everything they wanted, he knew that...Hell had taught him that. But he also knew it didn't matter what he told them-very soon the woman would attach those electrodes to his nipples, and maybe his dick...and Richard would smile as he turned the handle on that horrible wooden box...and Dean would scream, as the agony began all over again. They wouldn't stop with a confession.
Dean choked out a sob, knowing that just like when he was in Hell, there was nothing at all he could do to stop it happening...absolutely nothing at all....
TBC
jared4ever
Title: The Bars
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam, Dean, OMCs, OFCs
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: graphic torture, non-con, BDSM, hurt!Sam, hurt!Dean, hint of Dean/Sam later
Genre: PWP
Spoilers: General for aired episodes through season 6
Summary: A year after the Apocalypse, Sam and Dean are asked to help one of Bobby's old friends in the Caribbean, only to find themselves taken prisoner by a ruthless dictator
A/N: This was adapted from an old story I had seen online years ago called "A Session on the Bars," by an author named Cortez. I found a copy and as I was re-reading, I found myself imagining Sam and Dean in the story's predicament. I converted it into a SPN story, and had to change a lot to make it work, but if Cortez is out there somewhere, I dedicate this to you! Thanks to usmc75 for the inspiration, and anniespinkhouse for editing.
The Bars
Richard Coy watched the prisoner closely, as the guards manhandled him into the pool of light near the center of the room. He was as tall as Richard, broad-shouldered, and had the look of someone who had seen just about everything life had to throw at him.
Excellent, he thought. He loved the confident ones.
Smirking, he pointed at the man. "Now, if you will just take your clothes off, we'd like you kneeling up on those bars beside you..."
"You've got to be kidding," the prisoner scoffed, like many others often did, as he peered through the glaring lights at the ominously simple piece of apparatus bolted to the bare concrete floor at his side. Just a pair of parallel wooden struts, just over shoulder width apart and each one fixed across two solid, knee high posts. The flat narrow top of each bar, and the thick leather straps that dangled down from them, were dark and stained with moisture and hard use.
"Clothes off now, please...or would you like my men to strip you?" Richard chuckled, "Some people enjoy being forced..."
The young man growled out a scathing refusal, so Richard motioned for the guards, who stepped forward and began roughly undoing the buttons of the man's clothes and yanking the garments from his well-muscled body.
In the hot, sticky darkness of the cellar, his captors watched avidly, enjoying the view of smooth, tan skin as the expressionless guards freed the prisoner from his layers of shirts and jeans. "Remember, I want everything off... even those," Richard's voice carried softly from beyond the lights. The guards' fingers grasped the narrow waistband of the prisoner's boxers and removed even that inadequate covering.
The interrogators watched as the now naked man instinctively curled his body round,
cupping his hands in an attempt to shield his privates from their gaze. Richard smiled to himself. In a few minutes, once the prisoner was strapped into position, it would be exactly those places that they would work on first. "That's better. Now, Anna, help him onto the bars..."
Anna Cortez-Richard's most trusted assistant-was a slim, attractive woman in her mid twenties. As usual for their shared torture sessions, she was dressed in a short, white doctor's coat, her bare legs hinting that beneath the crisp, white cotton she was naked. High cheekbones and short cut black hair gave her face a severe appearance but, like Richard, her dark eyes were alight with the excitement and cruel anticipation of what they were about to do to the handsome young man before her. She motioned for the guards to move the prisoner into position, and soon the shaking young man was standing where she wanted, between the wooden bars.
The man resisted violently, but was too weak after two days of starvation-and being tied down in the hot sun-for it to matter, and the guards forced the man awkwardly onto the narrow bars. He winced as he was forced to kneel along the rough wood, straddling his legs wide apart. "No, no, knees forward...right forward, now kneel up..." Anna instructed.
Obedient to the woman's quiet commands, the brutish, barrel-chested guards nudged the young man forward, inch by inch, until he was poised at the front of each narrow beam, leg muscles quivering as he fought to keep his balance.
Once satisfied with the man's position, Anna worked with the speed of long practice: ankle straps first, then the wide, thick straps over the top of each calf to hold the knees hard against the wooden rail. With the man's legs secure, Anna Cortez took her time tightening the oiled leather straps in turn, moving round the short bars to pull each strong brass buckle tighter and tighter. The man moaned and grunted as his shins were clamped down against the wood and his lean flesh bulged out from each side of the leather straps.
Anna Cortez scratched her nails across the sensitive flesh of the man's immobilized inner thighs. She smiled as the man squirmed, trying to twist those powerful trunks away from her touch. The straps held him fixed against the bars, though; all he could do was twist his ankles and flex his toes...a little. She stroked the delicate flesh of the man's left inner thigh again, listening for that shuddering gasp as he tried to control his reaction to that tickling torment. Perhaps it would be fun to play more thoroughly with his erogenous zones later on in the session.
Anna left the man's thighs alone and turned her attention to his arms, pulling them backwards. "Hands together..." She instructed, though the man was hardly in any position to resist. The nylon tie made a sharp zzziip as she yanked it tight around the man's wrists. Finally, she reached up for the rope dangling from one of the hooks bolted to the beam above the bars. She pulled it through the man's cinched wrists and snapped the metal clip back on itself to complete the loop. In the darkness, two of the guards hauled the rope taut, dragging the man's thickly muscled arms up and away from his broad, tapered back, forcing his body to bow forwards.
"Aaaah!"
The man's sudden cry of protest was ignored. A near silence fell in the underground chamber as the rope was secured. The only sounds coming from the bowed figure of the man alone in the pool of light, a figure that shivered and trembled, chest moving rapidly as he panted with partially concealed fear and strain beneath the hot glare of the lamps, his thighs strapped wide, the taut muscles of his already abused body flexing spasmodically... ready for Richard to begin.
The stillness was broken by a rattle of equipment and the man twisted his head, staring frantically to his left to see what was happening. His eyes opened wide as he saw the polished wooden box, with its side handle and brass terminals, the coiled wires and the plastic tray of clips, probes and needles on the battered top of the trolley.
He started struggling in his bonds, grunting in anger and fear. The frantic straining made absolutely no difference at all. Anna just smiled and moved the trolley into position so the writhing man had the best view of the magneto that was Richard's favorite toy. Having come to the island uninvited, and clearly intent on interfering with Richard's private empire, the young man was about to discover the true depth of his mistakes.
Richard walked into the pool of light as Anna Cortez reached between the prisoner's thighs to fondle the man's dangling cock and balls.
"Now Mr. Winchester...Sam... you are going to discover some of the truly agonizing things we do to uninvited guests..."
He paused, watching his assistant's expert hands stroking the helpless, hanging member. "I think we'll start with that impressive tool that I see Miss Cortez is preparing so carefully for me." He picked up a large, shiny brass alligator clip, the thin red wires from each side snaking back to the connections on the magneto, and opened the jaws so Sam could see the wickedly serrated teeth.
Sam grimaced, trying to keep emotion off his face, but the fear was plain in his eyes. "Wait..."
Anna picked up a blue and white tube, squeezed some clear gel onto her fingers and
reached under the young hunter's arched body, using just a feather light touch of her fingertips to coat the large, heavy sack and long, rapidly stiffening penis with the glistening gel. Sam groaned. His abdominals clenched as he tried to control his body's natural reactions to the new sensations. "Stop!"
Watching his victim bite his lip in growing, unwanted arousal, Richard wondered if he realized that the gel being worked so skillfully across his privates was specially prepared to improve electrical contact in the skin. He grinned to himself, thinking with a familiar, delicious thrill of what he was going to do to this man in a few moments time.
Anna Cortez loved any chance to use the bars, the position left a man's cock and balls, or a woman's cunt, so wonderfully wide open for all the delicious things that could be done to them. She considered the young man on the bars. Late twenties, so well endowed...
With Richard watching patiently, she spent half an hour playing with Sam's genitals. He was unable to stop her. Masturbating him slowly while using the gel to provide an unbearable slippery sensation, she caressed the heavily veined shaft while her other hand rolled and fondled the soft weight of his testicles to bring him to the very brink before stopping.
"Ughhhhh!"
The wonderful excitement of letting his near-climax subside and then using her fingertips to torment the glistening, engorged dome of his glans, one finger teasing round the curving rim until he was again thrusting and jerking in the desperate search for that final, exquisite touch. "S-stop! Please! I-! UHHH!"
Finally, she used long, expert strokes that brought him to a sweating, jerking peak he simply was unable to resist. He bucked and thrust against the straps, mindlessly fucking her busy fingers until those last arching spasms sent thick jets of semen arcing out onto the floor as he came. She teased him with coarse encouragement, making him gasp and twitch while milking and tormenting his slippery cock, until even the pleasure became unbearable and he cried aloud in pain and frustration. "Aghhh!"
Anna rubbed her thighs together, feeling her own growing wetness against her busy finger as she waited for him to recover. Then, she took slow, skilful pleasure in working Sam's impressive, eight-inch cock back to full hardness, before indulging in the wonderful excitement of wiring him up.
First, a thin, wet leather lace around the base of his cock, wrapped tight to hold him throbbing and rigid for the interrogation. Then, a wide brass clip slipped into place gripping both his testicles...Oh God he squealed at that!
Richard fastened the connections to the magneto. Anna then slid on a rubber glove before taking the thin copper probe from her master's outstretched hand. With the clip in place, Richard himself stepped forward and stroked Sam's long hair, enjoying his victim's growing terror before he stepped back to the little table...and prepared to spin the handle of the magneto.
"Now, Sam, we're ready for you...so, watch my hand carefully. Can you feel it?" Richard wound the handle for a few moments, sending the first surge of current through the thin, red wires and into to Sam's testicles. The little machine whined softly and, for a split second, it seemed as though nothing happened. Then, almost in slow motion, Sam reared back against his bonds, his muscles and sinews locked rigid, as the electric shock ripped through his sculpted body.
"ARRRRRGGGGGHHHH!"
"As I turn this handle, so, now...you feel the pain? Oh yes, yes I see you do..."
The demented scream trailed away and Sam flopped back against the straps and the supporting rope, breath coming in heaving gasps as he tried to ride out the pain of that first, awful shock.
"Impressive, isn't it, Sam? You have no idea how useful a tool like this can be when maintaining order on my island."
"This isn't your island," Sam hissed, breath finally evening out.
"Oh, but it is," Richard correctly merrily. "I'm the one who restored order and law here, after the quake. I was the only one who was strong enough to lead."
"By using black magic to control the locals?!" Sam asked incredulously.
Anna had to admire the young man's courage, speaking to Richard that way even while in his current...condition. It was brave. And foolish.
"You came here to incite revolution," Richard said quietly, with a prosecutorial tone. "Tell me, who are you working with...and where are they right now?"
Sam shook his head, sweat running down his temples. "No one. I'm here alone."
"I see we have a long night ahead of us," Richard said, smiling, not at all disappointed. He nodded to Anna. Sam opened his mouth, but Richard shushed him. "No, no. It's all right. Soon there'll be no secrets between us." His hand returned to the handle.
As Richard worked the magneto, Anna slid the carefully rounded copper rod up the underside of Sam's cock, letting it snap and sizzle along his entire length, then inserted it into his urethra, working it in and out slowly and gently...each movement extracting squeals of agony. Sam's muscles clenched and strained, writhing visibly beneath his bronzed skin. Sweat poured off his already dehydrated body in the dank heat of the room. His broad back bowed as he tossed his head back and shrieked.
"AH-AH-AGGHHHHHH! AH-AGGHHHH!"
Oh yes, Anna loved using the bars...
*******
Dean was going to kill Bobby when they got back to the States. Just take a quick look, he had said.
Bobby had received a cryptic, rushed message, from a teenage boy named Raoul, who Bobby claimed had been a friend on a few of his Caribbean hunting trips. The message claimed that the boy's home, an island called Santa Costa-which Dean had to use a magnifying glass to find on a map-had been taken over by someone the kid described as a warlock, and people were suffering. The island had no value to any government, so no official help was ever going to come.
As far as Dean was concerned, the kid needed some half-assed rebel freedom fighters, not two hunters who had their hands full with the freakin' Mother of All monsters. Sam barely had his soul back, and Dean had spent the last few months worried to death about the wall in his little brother's brain being picked at...they didn't need to go wading into a revolution.
Sam, on the other hand, was still stinging from the knowledge that he'd almost killed Bobby while soulless, and had pushed Dean into saying yes. The little dot on the map didn't have an airport, and was hundreds of miles from anywhere, so they'd paid their way onto a freighter and then got a lift from a Dominican fishing boat captain-also a friend of Bobby's. Bobby seemed to know everyone!
Santa Costa had been almost destroyed the year before, hit by earthquakes and tidal waves during the Apocalypse. It left the whole of the island devastated. Many residents had fled, as had the dictatorial general who'd been "El Presidente" for decades before the disasters. With the authorities gone, the population leaderless, a new player had entered the scene: Richard Coy.
From what Sam had managed to find out, from talking to Raoul and scoping out the island, Coy had been a medical student there during the last years of the dictatorship, and when the opportunity arose, switched careers, as it was, and staged a coup.
They hadn't found any evidence of what had turned the young student into a power-mad monster, but Coy within a few months had taken over the whole island. His henchmen were everywhere. His opponents disappeared, usually with horrific stories attached-more likely rumors, Dean hoped-that kept the island's residents cowed and obedient.
But, then Raoul had disappeared, too. Dean and Sam had looked everywhere, but the kid was just gone. His apparent misfortune, though, had provided a vital clue. Raoul had put up a fight when whoever it was had come for him, and Sam had found traces of EMF all over Raoul's room, and ectoplasm.
That explained Richard's success at recruiting goons. Sam had put the clues together with some of Raoul's stories, and some information they'd gleaned from terrified locals. It seemed Richard was using spirits to possess his "loyal" soldiers. Worse, he had to be dabbling in serious black magic to keep so many angry spirits under his control.
We just have to break his control, Sam had said. Dispel the magic, and Richard's just a normal guy.
As usual, that was where everything went to hell. Sam had gone out to gather supplies for a powerful counter-spell...three days ago. Something bad had happened, and no one had seen anything, naturally. Or they were too afraid to talk to an outsider like Dean.
"This is Sam, leave a message." Dean threw his phone onto the bed in disgust. Three days, and no word. No clue where his brother had disappeared to. Dean growled. "Dammit, Sammy." He had no idea where to begin looking. All he could do was try and finish the spell that Sam had laid out.
Whatever plan he was forming was abruptly derailed, when he saw a small army of Richard's possessed goons forcing their way into the deserted house where he was squatting. The henchmen were eerily silent as they busted down the doors between the front of the house and the bedrooms.
Dean glanced around quickly, the weapons were in the next room. The best he could do was hide what he and Sam were planning, in hopes they could finish it later. He slammed the old Latin spellbook shut, pulling the bookmark from the page Sam had found. Maybe it would buy them some time.
The goon squad broke down the bedroom door. Four of them rushed him, brushing aside Dean's fists as though they didn't feel pain at all. After a pathetically brief struggle, they had Dean pinned against the wall.
Behind them, a man entered. He was about Sam's height, with close-cropped dark hair, and a sculpted, muscular build that his tight shirt didn't conceal. After a smug glance around the room, the man's eyes fell on Dean. He smiled, calm and arrogant, and he spoke with a plain American accent.
"You must be Dean."
*******
Anna Cortez watched with growing pleasure as Dean's body gradually reacted to the teasing stimulation of her slippery, expert fingers as they worked his nipples into thick, gleaming stubs. He was trussed up on the same bars as Sam had been the night before, legs spread and trapped, muscular arms pulled painfully behind him. The Winchesters obviously had good genes, as Anna had never encountered a finer pair of specimens, siblings or otherwise.
After three or four more minutes Anna looked up at Richard across the sheen of Dean's sweat-soaked back, her hands still cupping the hardened nipples with the forefinger and thumb of each hand stretching the hard, erect tips out to show that they were ready for the clips to be applied.
Dean had bent his head down, transfixed as the man and the woman so calmly and deliberately prepared his body for torture. His breathing became faster and faster, a hard rhythmic panting, on the edge of panic, as the woman held the firm, warm weight of his left pectoral cradled in her palm, holding it still to assist Richard in positioning the shiny, brass jaws right along the rigid peak of his nipple. He felt the woman's hot, excited breath in his ear as Richard's fingers relaxed and the brass teeth closed...
"Mmmphhh!" Dean grunted, keeping his mouth shut to deny his tormentors the pleasure of hearing his pain.
He squirmed madly as the metal teeth bit deep into the nerve-rich tip. His torturers just laughed, letting him jerk and flail about, enjoying the sight of his muscles flexing and stretching, the wire attached to the brass clip dancing wildly with each convulsion. After all, there was no real hurry, and besides, everyone knew that it was going to happen all over again when Richard clamped the brass teeth onto his other nipple...
With Dean readied, Richard took his place next to the magneto, just outside the circle of light around Dean's hanging body.
Richard wound the handle for a few moments, sending the first surge of current through the wires and into Dean's nipples. The machine whined, Dean's body bowed in his bonds, muscles going rigid as the electric shock ripped through his torso. It was so brief he didn't have time to scream.
"Ready again?" Richard said, not giving Dean a chance to recover. He moved his hand and the mocking smile widened, "Watch the handle now..."
The whine of the magneto was louder and more urgent this time. Once more, the hunter reared up, this time shouting his agony upwards to the vaulted ceiling, fingers and toes writhing madly as the lancing fire of the current scorched across his nipples and through his pecs.
"AAAAH! AH-AAAH! ARRRRGGGGHHH!"
For ten interminable minutes, Richard played Dean like an instrument of pain. The whining song of the magneto rose and fell as he spun the handle, deliberately varying the speed and surge of current, so that each time Dean bucked and twisted in a delirium of agony. Pinned to the bars that held his thighs apart, he could only flex his hips and upper body in response to the white hot agony of those repeated shocks.
The two torturers smiled at each other as they watched the wild dance of Dean's muscles, and the way the clips and wires flailed madly as he jerked and jolted at the devilish, fizzing touch of the electric current. The little brass teeth held firm to his hardened nubs despite his futile efforts to shake them loose; each clip gripping a now-swollen, purple nipple in an excruciating vice.
With the sadistic skill of long practice, Richard stopped turning the handle as Dean's cries took on the hoarse, ragged edge of exhaustion. Almost casually, he removed the clips, watching the hunter fighting to master the new, thudding agony of returning circulation.
Dean groaned thinly, almost a whimper this time, as Anna Cortez fingered the tender, taut, swollen flesh so that both of them could enjoy the sight of how he twitched and moaned at the lightest touch.
Lost in a world of pain, Dean didn't think about the obscene straddle of his thighs; or how his vulnerable, sensitive genitals were exposed for his torturers' attentions too. All he could think about was the agony of the electricity and the fresh stabbing pains each time the woman's fingers touched his tender nipples.
Richard spoke again. "We'll take a break, I think...allow an hour or so for his tits to swell up a bit more and he'll scream at the touch of a feather," Richard laughed. The woman smiled too; excited by the foreknowledge of where the agony was going to be applied the next time. She walked behind the tautly bound hunter, hands running over the slick curves of his firm buttocks, before probing the deep valley to finger the soft, crinkled bud of the muscular man's anus.
She leaned over, whispering into Dean's ear, building up the fear and anticipation of the next stage of the dreadful torture. "A little voltage up here and..." Her hand slid forwards, cupping the bulge of Dean's huge package and stroking the sensitive flesh at the tip of his cock with one, knowledgeable finger. "And here..."
He groaned.
"Then you will pray for us to go back to frying your nipples. I guarantee it! Just ask your brother...."
Dean's head snapped up to look at her. "W-what?"
Anna answered. "Oh, did we forget to mention? Sam has been our...guest here the past few days."
Fury quickly overtook the exhaustion on Dean's face. "W-where is he? What have you done to him?"
She looked at Richard, who grinned devilishly. "Why not see for yourself?"
*******
The thuggish guards walked Dean down a hallway, their ham-sized hands gripping his biceps and keeping his arms tightly behind his back. Richard walked ahead of them, Anna behind. They stopped in front of a thick, steel door, which Richard opened with a key.
Inside was a row of small jail cells. As Richard stepped aside and the guards moved Dean through the door, he immediately noticed the two prisoners inside the barred cages. Raoul was to Dean's left, unconscious-Dean hoped-and naked, his lean, muscled teenage body curled into a fetal position. Well, that explains how they know our names....
In the cell on his right, in an even more alarming state, was Sam.
He noted several things right away. Sam was hogtied, arms drawn tightly behind his back, his folded legs tucked beneath him. Sweat poured down his nude body...and his penis was rigidly erect. Dean couldn't help but see that Sam's member was visibly throbbing as it curved up toward Sam's abs. Precum dripped down the shaft, pooling in a large puddle between Sam's legs. He spotted several small burn marks along his brother's straining length.
On the floor, between Sam's cramping thighs, Dean noted a small brown hex bag. Richard noticed Dean's observation immediately.
"Yes, that is what it looks like," he announced lazily. "Keeps your brother's, shall we say, interest. He's been trapped...right on the brink...for almost a full day now."
Dean glared at their captor, but the guards forced him forward and down to his knees at the door to Sam's cage. He bit back what he was going to say to Richard and focused on Sam instead. "Sammy?"
The exhaustion was clear on Sam's face, deep bags beneath his eyes, hair dripping wet with sweat hanging down his face. Still, he blinked when he heard the voice. "D-Dean?"
"I'm gonna get you out of there, Sammy. Just hang on," Dean whispered, angry at his brother's condition. Richard overheard. He produced a small black cell phone, apparently rigged as a transmitter of some kind, with a mismatched antenna mounted along the side.
"Sam has been very uncooperative," Richard said, with vindictiveness dripping through his words. He pressed a button on the control, and suddenly Sam flinched, moaning loudly. Shudders passed through his tormented form. Dean heard a humming sound, then noticed for the first time a thick black cord running from behind Sam, out through the cage bars, and into a nearby power outlet.
Dean shifted over to the side, the guards let him. He spied a long black handle sticking out of Sam's ass. Richard pressed the button again, and the vibrator increased once again in intensity. Sam convulsed, sweat flying from his soaked hair. "Ahh! AHHHH! Please!"
The heinous situation became abundantly clear. The hex bag kept Sam hard but unable to come. The vibrator was probably pushing him to the brink of insanity. And Sam had been in Richard's "care" ever since he'd gone missing three days earlier.
His own fatigue forgotten, Dean spun on Richard, but the guards were there again, gripping his arms tightly. Richard smiled that creepy smile of his. "I hope you weren't under the impression that we broke your brother, Dean. "
Dean grimaced, silently ashamed. He had been assuming that. He should have known better, but given Sam's recent return from Hell, he'd just assumed that his sibling was too...fragile to endure what Richard was certainly capable of inflicting.
"We had him on the bars all night-not even counting the time he spent in the sweat box outside-but all we ever got was your name...and that was only when he was barely conscious. We only found a note in his pocket which led us to you. A pity, really. He might have spared himself a great deal of suffering if he'd only told me about you from the start."
Dean glanced back at Sam, who was moaning and trembling under the vibrator's assault, dick straining and leaking helplessly, oblivious to the discussion going on above his head. Richard clicked the button on the remote control, and Sam cried out, body shaking harder. "Stop it, you bastard!"
"I will, Dean," Richard declared smugly. "As soon as you tell me what you and your brother were trying to accomplish here."
"Fuck you," Dean spat. He wasn't about to tell Richard about that. It was their only chance of ever regaining their freedom at this point.
Richard grinned, a shark's grin. He reached out and slid his fingers across Dean's swollen, bruised nipples. Dean gasped in helpless pain as Richard's fingers massaged the tortured nubs. The pain was as intense as his captors had promised. "I have to admit...I was hoping you'd say that, Dean. Take him."
*******
Dean was strung up on the bars once more, Richard not quite done with him for the evening.
For her own amusement, while her master prepared a few other toys, Anna picked up a slim, black vibrator. Licking the curved plastic rod, she placed the rounded point in the dimpled folds of Dean's anus. "Ready to join your brother, Dean?" She pushed gently, not waiting for a reply.
Richard saw the hunter's eyes widen as she felt the intruder slipping through the ring of muscle into his back passage. He chuckled, trust Anna to keep him amused. As usual, his assistant was whispering to her victim, savoring the gasps and panting breaths as Dean gradually responded to the stimulation he was feeling.
Her thumb found the little switch in the dido's handle, "Come for us Dean." The buzzing was quiet and muffled as the vibrator came to life deep inside Dean's ass. Anna moved the handle, turning it gently so that the rounded point buzzed and fretted against the delicate tissues inside Dean's body. At the same time, she used her other hand to skillfully spread the clear gel over his rapidly swelling penis.
To Richard, quietly enjoying the way Anna Cortez was playing so intimately with their subject, the effect of the vibrator was much more obvious and dramatic. Dean's head lifted and his whole body surged forwards, mouth opening, fishlike, in a gasp of amazement and shock as he felt the sensations being generated deep inside him by the thin, vibrating rod. About thirty seconds later, he became frantic as he realized that the combination of her hand and the humming rod was going to force him to a climax, despite his pain and exhaustion.
"T-t-turn it off! No! STOP! Unnpphhh!"
Over the minutes his shouts changed. Dean thrust his hips to and fro, trying to escape the vibrator, but only pushed it deeper and deeper into his body. Soon, he worked himself to a climax in a flood of cum and a storm of spasming muscles. As Dean's orgasm sent him into that familiar huffing, bucking rhythm, Anna squeezed her gel-coated hand around his dick, trying to hold on despite his madly thrusting hips while she went on working the vibrator's buzzing tip against the most sensitive tissues of his prostate.
Ignoring the shouts and cries of outrage she kept Dean impaled on the buzzing rod, working it in and out of his rectum in synch with her slippery fingers along his cock until the sounds of despair told her that Dean was about to reach his second climax. The torturous buzzer forced him to stay at the peak of pleasure, despite his desperate cries for the maddening torment to stop.
"Naaah! Ahhh....aaa-aaaah...nah....naaah...oh...OH!"
The words were blurred into mindless babble as Dean rode the anal vibrator like a mad thing until his cock erupted a second time, and he was left panting and shivering on the very edge of collapse. Almost on the brink of coming herself, Anna Cortez pressed the button and the muffled, hornet-like buzzing stopped. Then, she carefully slid the vibrator free, leaving Dean hanging on the ceiling rope, the sweat pouring from his body and dripping onto the concrete floor below. She quickly reached between his quivering thighs and wrapped the thin leather strap around the base of his now hypersensitive member.
Richard watched Dean's slack, exhausted face for a moment and then held up the object he'd been connecting to the magneto. "Now you've had your fun Dean... it's time for us to discuss important matters."
In Richard's hands was a heavy-looking metal object with a handle, too big to be another sex toy. A long, pear-shaped top with seams along its sides swelled from a thick shaft that ended in a black plastic collar about two inches wide. Below the collar, a black, rubber handgrip extended a further three inches. A set of red wires curled from the base of the handle... wires that trailed back to more brass connections on the side of the magneto.
Dean's muscles twitched and flexed. His ribcage heaving frantically as he tried to catch his breath after his forced sexual ordeal. He twisted his head around to stare at the oddity Richard was holding.
He grinned at Dean, squeezing some of the clear electrolytic gel onto the rounded top. He worked it carefully over the whole surface, making sure Dean could see everything he was doing.
"You see, my friend, this is going where that little vibrator was a minute ago..." He caressed the smooth rounded top. "This was a popular tool in medieval times. Maybe you're heard of it?" He laughed, flicking the black collar with his nails, "It's known as the 'pear of anguish.'" Richard waited for Dean to absorb that, then continued, gesturing to the tool as if it was an item on the Home Shopping Network. "Well, it's a knockoff really, not quite a brutal as the original. This one won't tear skin and tissues. But, Raoul still found it very...persuasive. After a few minutes with this, he told us all about you and brother."
Bending down he held it under Dean's body until Anna could reach down and take it off him. Making sure the wire trailed free along the floor under the bars, Anna pressed the oiled pear between the slick spread cheeks of Dean's bottom until the polished head nuzzled against the ring of his anus. Richard nodded for her to begin, reaching up to hold the hunter's chin in one hand, gazing intently at his face to savor the expressions as the bulb was inserted slowly into his rectum.
"UH!" Dean squirmed, trying futilely to keep Anna from finishing her task. Richard watched Dean's deep green eyes widen as the pear reached its position, stretching the tender ring of muscle as it passed. "MMMPH!"
Both his torturers grinned at hearing the sudden, frantic panting as Dean tried to deal with the dreadful stretching pain of the pear's entry. Dean's face contorted in a sudden spasm, and he rocked violently against the straps as the bulbous shape of the pear popped abruptly through the tight ring of muscle. Once inside, he could feel the fullness of it sliding slowly up his rectum.
"Ugghhnnn!!"
Anna Cortez twisted the handle gently from side to side; making sure the man was fully impaled by the device, with the plastic collar pressing hard into the firm, muscular globes of his ass.
"So, we're almost ready, Dean. Let's just twist that handle a little, shall we?" As Richard spoke, Anna pressed her breasts against Dean's back, her hands reaching down and over the achingly spread thighs. Her fingers stroked the sensitive flesh along the insides of his legs before they moved up and back, toying with his nerve endings so that the brave hunter involuntarily shivered and trembled, body still humming from the stimulation of his recent orgasms.
Anna's fingers drifted up, the fingertips of each hand wrapping around the screw on the pear's handle. She gave it a few slow, long twists. The metal device split open inside Dean, four petals opening slowly, beginning to stretch the tender tissues of Dean's rectum.
Dean gasped as he felt the pear opening. His ass began to stretch painfully. Anna twisted a few more times, making the pear open wider and wider, until Dean was once more whimpering and groaning with a mixture of pain and fear, ready for their next agonizing attentions. Dean's muscles clenched defensively, trying to expel the cruel device, but that only had the effect of intensifying the pain.
Richard picked an alligator clip, much larger than the ones he'd used on Dean's nipples. He smiled as the trapped hunter slowly came to understand what he was about to do.
Watching in barely disguised fear, Dean forced his head down, peering at his own dick as the dreadfully sharp jaws of the clip touched the tender skin on either side of his thick shaft. "Ready, Dean?" Richard asked softly, letting his fingers relax. The jaws closed over the tender meat and Dean screamed as he felt the stabbing pain of the brass teeth biting into his cock.
Richard chuckled as he slapped Dean's pain-wracked face, none-too-gently smacking his cheek and dislodging beads of sweat that clung to his skin. "Shhhh, no not yet, Dean, not yet...remember, save your strength." He lifted Dean's chin so he could look across at the polished wooden box of the magneto, silently promising more intense experiences to come.
Anna let go of the handle of the pear, and walked round to join Richard. The two of them took an enjoyable few moments to stroke and fondle Dean's face, shoulders and pecs,
murmuring quietly to him and explaining in graphic detail what was going to
happen.
Finally, they both left him alone, and Richard moved over to the little table. "So, Dean, would you like to tell me what your plans here were...?"
Dean growled and babbled useless threats as he saw him reach across to grasp the worn handle on the side of the box.
Anna Cortez edged her hand back between the buttons of her white coat, her fingers stroking the slippery wetness that had soaked her genitals since she helped with the hunter's initial torture. She slid the fingers of her right hand up into the slit of her cunt, as the erotic sight of Dean strapped helplessly on the bars whipped at her senses. Dean's beautiful freckled skin was shiny with sweat; his muscles spasming beneath it. With his arms at full stretch up behind him, the lines of his pecs and abs undulated and flexed as he tried to control his racing breath.
But, what was bringing the woman to the very brink of her own orgasm, and creating the abject terror in Dean's mind as she stared down the length of his straddled figure, was the sight of the two electrical connections attached to the most sensitive points of that strong, beautiful body. The red wire was hanging from the heavy clip, with only the very tip of his foreskin showing where the toothed jaws held his cock in a cruel vice; and the black flex protruding from the pear buried in his anus. Both snaked away between his straddled thighs, to the magneto's brass connectors. The movements of Anna's fingers became more urgent as she saw the Richard touch the handle.
Silence fell as everyone paused, even Dean's frantic struggles stilled as Richard's hand moved in a slow, deliberate circle. Just one, single, shuddering gasp broke the stillness...then Richard's hand moved again, circling faster and faster as the rising whine of the magneto filled the room.
As though defying gravity, Dean rose against the straps that held him, hips thrusting forwards, body arching impossibly backwards, and teeth bared in a grimace of agony, as he was galvanized by the current surging into his cock and the delicate tissues of his ass. Wild, inhuman sounds bubbled in his throat, his eyes stared up at the ceiling... and a single, piercing scream of total agony echoed round the hot, sticky dimness of the underground interrogation chamber.
"AAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!"
Richard kept the handle turning for over a minute, varying the speed so Dean's tortured screams rose and fell as the current surged through his anus and dick. When he finally let the diabolical machine whine to a halt, the screams turned into frantic, choking sobs. Dean fell forward, barely conscious, and only supported by the wrist rope.
Richard waited for a few tormenting moments. "Ready again, Dean?" The machine whined, and the hunter surged upwards once more, as the fire blazed through his rigid member and the current burned and seared the delicate inner membranes of his strained rectum.
"AAH! AAAH!! AAAAArrrrrrggggggghhhhh!" Another scream of outrage and agony ripped through the cellar.
For Anna Cortez the sight of the current once again jerking Dean up into screaming, muscle wrenching spasms, was just too much. Her racing fingers brought her to her own swift, hard climax, her cries of release lost in the sounds of Dean's torture. As Anna closed her eyes and licked the slippery juices from her finger tips, Richard stepped up to the broken figure on the bars and once again lifted Dean's head.
"Now, my friend, shall we go on, or will you tell me what I want to know?" His hands caressed Dean's cheeks, wiping the rivulets of sweat away from his eyes. He spoke gently and quietly to the shivering man, "Yes, I know...it hurts so much, I know... but the machine, the little clips, they don't know...don't care how much they burn and sting... they don't get tired like you...the pain just goes on and on and on."
Dean wanted to tell him that he'd been to Hell, he knew all about pain. He knew demons that would call Richard an amateur. But, he decided to keep that to himself. If nothing else, Richard seemed to revel in these interrogations. Dean didn't want to raise the bar any higher, or Richard might just prove him wrong. And Richard's methods were painful. Dean's memories of the Pit didn't mean he was impervious to the agony that was being inflicted on his weakening body. Instead, he fell back on his tried and true sarcasm, but he found that forming a coherent thought was amazingly difficult when he opened his mouth. It was soon obvious that he wasn't even talking in complete sentences.
Richard bent closer, listening to the whispered, incoherent babble. "Yes I know Dean...you want it to stop so badly, we understand that too...so why not tell me what I want?" He waited, watching for the beginnings of defeat in the green eyes before him. "Perhaps, just to help you decide, we'll let the machine give you a little reminder... while Anna turns that handle again..."
"No," Dean managed to croak out, "NO...."
Richard knew he would break Dean, just like he would Sam...but he still enjoyed his work. The confession would come...it always did, but he was enjoying the man's increasingly desperate efforts to make him stop. He knew Dean's eyes were fixed on his hands as he moved back to the table and gripped the handle one more.
His hand circled slowly, and the magneto began its high pitched song of pain once more. This time Anna Cortez moved behind the straddled figure, twisting the screw that widened the pear's petals even further, stretching the sensitive inner walls of Dean's rectum almost to the point of tearing. Even as the flesh was forced further apart by the uncaring metal, the sizzling, crackling electrical current flowed through the wires and through the pear, into Dean's insides.
Between them, the two torturers kept Dean bucking and screaming for a full five minutes before they finally let him collapse against his bonds once more. Richard reached beneath Dean's muscular torso and delicately freed the clip from his now swollen and scorched cock. Dean whimpered and jerked as the teeth came free from the taut, throbbing shaft standing out so prominently from his trembling body.
Then, it was Anna's turn to make him shriek again, making the most of closing and removing the bulbous pear very slowly until Dean's cries gave way to groans of a different, deeper agony as the wide head was slowly pulled out, stretching the tender, abused membranes of his tight anus. Dean gave a final, shuddering gasp of relief as he felt the smooth, broad domed head of the pear slip free.
"Now Dean...want to talk?" Richard purred softly, "or would you like Anna to put the clips back on your nipples now they've had a chance to swell up properly...?"
Dean looked at the brass alligator clips swinging from their red wires in Anna Cortez's hand, and then stared down at the taut, horribly swollen stubs of his nipples...each one still pulsing and burning from earlier. Drops of sweat from his hair splashed onto the rough concrete floor.
He would tell them everything, eventually, everything they wanted, he knew that...Hell had taught him that. But he also knew it didn't matter what he told them-very soon the woman would attach those electrodes to his nipples, and maybe his dick...and Richard would smile as he turned the handle on that horrible wooden box...and Dean would scream, as the agony began all over again. They wouldn't stop with a confession.
Dean choked out a sob, knowing that just like when he was in Hell, there was nothing at all he could do to stop it happening...absolutely nothing at all....
TBC