Life: Unexpected 2, Adult, Supernatural, Sam(antha)/various
Title: Life: Unexpected 2/5
Author: not_me2010
Rating: NC-17 (Adult, explicit: sex)
Pairing: Samantha/Bobby, Samantha/John, Samantha/Dean, Samantha/others
Notes: AU, incest, D/s, pregnancy and lactation kinks, some domestic discipline, various sexual kinks, underage (girl!sam is fifteen at the start of this story)
Author Notes: okay, so this got long. As in 13,821 words long, hopefully with more to come. It's based on this prompt: here
It's AU, though not obviously so (aside from girl!Sam) in this section and I've got a bunch of background worldbuilding that supports the story. Mildly pertinent to this is that in hunter 'culture', bitch isn't necessarily derogatory, though young and stupid hunters sometimes treat it so. Young girls in hunter families, still under their father's house are called 'girl' (and non-family aren't supposed to use their names), while older girls, now under a proper master are called bitches.
"It's time," he said quietly. He was almost dressed up, as much as any Winchester did, in a clean dark shirt and new jeans and probably only a half-dozen weapons hidden on him.
Sam pushed her book aside, she hadn't really been able to concentrate on the old Latin anyway. Rubbing her hands on her jeans, she went over to her dad, stomach tight with nerves. She didn't know much about what was going to happen next, because John had been a rube too, once, and even if her mother had lived, she'd chosen an outsider's path. There'd been no one to tell her what to expect as a hunter's daughter.
"I'm giving you over to Bobby," John's hand was steady on her shoulder, though Samantha knew him well enough to hear the tension in his voice. "'Cause he's a good man, and he'll take care of you, and the two of you seem to get on pretty well."
Bobby was more than twice her age but, with everything else, Sam didn't really think it was worth commenting on. Her dad's hand brought her to a halt in the dim hallway. "But I want you to remember," he said, his gaze dark and stubborn. "If you need us, really need us, call and we'll come -- Dean and I. I don't care what hunters do, you're still my daughter, not just my girl, and I'll be there for you."
Samantha blinked at sudden tears in her eyes, rushing forward and throwing her arms around her dad. "I'm so scared," she whispered. "Dad, I'm so scared."
John held her close, pressing his face against her hair, sniffing a little himself. "It'll be okay, Sammy. Bobby's my best friend and I told him I'd rip him apart if he didn't take care of you."
Samantha nodded, face rubbing John's shirt, breathing in the smell of him and realizing she wouldn't be seeing him every day anymore. Her face crumpled but she got everything under control before John stepped back, she didn't want him to see that. She was strong enough for this - or at least stubborn enough. She'd chosen, she wasn't going back on her word.
"According to hunter tradition," John said, clearing his throat as they went upstairs. There was a steaming bath waiting in one of the rooms and he nodded to it. "I'm going to bathe you and bring you to Bobby, and give you to him; from sire to master. You're not to speak, okay?"
Samantha nodded silently, pulling off her clothes and struggling with her embarrassment. "God," she hissed as she stepped into the tub, "it's hot."
"You'll be red as a beet when you come out," John chuckled, picking up a sponge and pouring more of the steaming, herb scented water over her. Sam squealed but held still, she'd felt worse things.
Her father scrubbed her down, sleeves rolled up, expression determinedly neutral as he soaped her breasts and even her pussy, while Samantha closed her eyes. He held out a towel for her when they were done, wrapping her up in it and rubbing briskly and Sam felt like a little kid for a moment, safe and treasured. The feeling buoyed her enough that when John guided her out of the bathroom, still naked, taking even the towel away, she didn't resist.
Sam's dark hair trailed wet down her shoulders and she shivered, after the hot bath, the air felt chilly. Her nipples hardened and Sam just hoped her embarrassed blush was hidden under the heat flush. She clenched her fists against the urge to cover herself as the two of them stepped into Bobby's parlor. Dean and Bobby were both there, waiting, clean and dressed up, like John. She hadn't known that Dean would be there and her knees trembled.
"Shh," Dad murmured, rubbing her back. "Crazy, huh? I know."
Sam managed to take one step than another and she walked to the middle of the room, cleaned up a bit - books pushed aside anyway - and with a fire blazing in the fireplace, to where a very old looking wooden stool waited. It was pretty clear it was for her. The wood was warm and worn silky smooth under her bare ass as she sat down, feet on the bottom rungs. John gave her a quick, tense smile then reached for her knees.
Sam sucked in a quick shocked breath, hearing Dean gasp too, tensing as her father tried to spread her legs. "Sam -" he said softly, head ducked but not enough to hide the blazing embarrassment on his face. "Girl, come on."
Skin burning with shame, Samantha made herself relax, a whimper escaping her as her dad's broad hands pushed her knees wide, spreading her and leaving her completely exposed when he stepped back. The slightly irregular surface of the stool cradled her ass and thighs better when she was spread like this and Samantha wondered how many other women - girls - had been here, waiting while their fathers and brothers decided their fate. She sat up straight. Slouching wouldn't hide her and if she was going to do this, she wasn't going to look like a coward while she did.
Bobby, her dad and Dean were staring at her and the fire was warm at her back. Dean's eyes were wide and almost frightened, as if he hadn't quite believed this would actually happen. It made Samantha feel less scared, and a little pissed, to see his face. Just think what it's like from here, Jerk, she thought. A shiver rippled through her and her breath grew heavier as she watched the men look at her.
They were seeing, she realized, not as daughter or sister, but a girl - legs spread in invitation, naked and vulnerable. Bobby's lips were parted and Samantha thought he liked looking at her like this. A warm, nervous ache gathered in her stomach at the thought.
"This is my girl," John said steadily, like he was starting a ritual. "I have Sire rights over her and there is no other claim on her."
"I see her," Bobby replied neutrally and Sam realized this was a ritual. There was an oddity to the cadence, as if it had once been translated from some other language and she wondered, suddenly, just how old hunter tradition was. "Is she ripe? Is she pure?"
"She's fertile and clean, untouched and of breeding age," John replied, sounding uncomfortable. "Her lineage is ... "
"Just fine," Bobby said quickly.
John sighed, nodding. Her dad wasn't from a hunting family, Sam guessed he couldn't claim her lineage was ... pure. She lifted her chin, there was nothing wrong with her dad.
When Bobby stepped up to her, Sam flinched. This was Bobby and she was naked. "I have the right to inspect the girl," he was speaking as much to her as to John she realized, letting her know what was going to happen next. Sam tried to relax. Bobby's mouth quirked and he gave Sam a quick wink.
He did inspect her, and it wasn't easy to hold still as he looked her over like a man buying a horse; opening her mouth, stroking her back, looking at her hands and feet. He cupped her breasts, fondling them, and Sam couldn't quite keep quiet or still then, panting in dismay, thighs twitching closed before she determinedly spread them again. When he reached between them, she gave a little noise of protest.
Bobby's look was sympathetic. "I need to see if you're a virgin, girl."
"I am," Sam wailed in a whisper, shaking. "Please ...."
Bobby's hand was firm on her thigh, rubbing gently. "Just relax, it won't take but a moment," he winked. "And I got all dolled up for you and everything."
Sam squeezed her eyes shut, trembling all over. "G-go ahead."
Bobby's fingers were rough and cool, and the stool's angle and shape positioned her just right for him to touch her pussy, the soft downy hair there hid nothing. Sam felt Bobby's fingers spreading her labia open and then the blunt pressure of a finger pressing into her and she gasped, eyes flying wide as she was penetrated for the first time. Dean was staring at her, her father was staring at her and Sam clenched her eyes shut again, a sob escaping her. Bobby's finger pushed uncomfortably then withdrew and he stepped back.
"She's untouched," John repeated, grimly.
"Yes," Bobby said. Samantha suspected that they would have said that even if she hadn't been, that they would have completed the ritual even if she'd had sex before, and that was strangely comforting. She was also proud that they didn't have to lie - lying during a ritual was a bad idea. The hunting life didn't exactly make it easy to have meaningful boyfriends, she'd hardly kissed, embarrassing for a fifteen year old in this day and age. The childish embarrassment of being teased at school, though, was nothing compared to the burning universe of embarrassment she lived in now, displayed naked, while her dad traded her off to a man who didn't wash his hair all that often.
"I'll claim this girl, from the hands of an old friend, and for loyalty," Bobby said and, the knowledge that he was her future, that he was going to essentially own her made Samantha suddenly pay fierce attention to the man who was her father's best friend. "I have the weapons to protect her, the riches to care for her, the heart to cherish her, and the strength to master her."
Bobby had been a fixture in her life for so long that Samantha didn't think of him often, she just knew that he' always be at his junkyard and always have just the bit of knowledge they needed in a pinch. Her uncertain gaze shifted from Bobby to Dad and back, he was still here when they needed him, taking in a Winchester girl in the old way, when the Winchesters had made as many enemies among the hunters as friends. He was a friend she thought with a warm rush. A true friend to her family.
He had rough hands, she thought, her pussy was still feeling sensitive from his touch, and a scruffy beard. He wore that damn cap all the time (but not just now), had a library full of ancient texts but hated using computers, wards on every window and door and a ritual prison that could keep the devil himself at bay (never tested that, he'd always say). Her eyes skittered around the room; old wallpaper and scribbled sigils on the ceiling, this would be her home.
"I'll relinquish my claim on the girl, to the hands of an old friend, for loyalty returned," John's voice was shaking and there were tears in his eyes. Samantha bit her lip and felt a tear trickle down her cheek.
Bobby stepped up to Sam again, with a chipped mug in one hand and a piece of bread in the other. His expression was somber. "Eat from my hand," he said gently. "And know your master will succor you."
Samantha opened her mouth tremulously and Bobby popped a piece of bread into her mouth. Wonderbread. Figured.
"Drink from my hand and know your master will shelter you," Bobby offered the mug and Samantha took a drink of plain water. She wondered if she should thank him or something but remembered what her father had said. She wasn't to speak.
"Take silver from my hand and know your master will shield you," Bobby said, then bent close, catching Sam's ear in his fingers. He had two silver hoops in his other hand, faint etchings on them glinting in the firelight. "This is gonna sting but it'll be quick," he whispered.
Sam clenched her hands on the seat of the stool as Bobby pinched first one, then the other earring through her lobes. When he stepped back, her ears throbbed heavily, in time with her beating heart, and she blinked back brief tears. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as when Dean had shot her accidentally.
Bobby cupped Sam's face in his hands, tilting her head up, making her new earrings swing painfully, as he bent to her. "Take a kiss from my mouth and know your master will cherish you."
Bobby's lips were warm and unexpectedly soft, his beard tickled and Samantha squirmed a little at the pressure, parting her lips tentatively. She wanted to do this right, and the husky note in Bobby's voice was encouraging. She heard Dean make some kind of noise but didn't care, Bobby's tongue was stroking into her mouth in gentle pushes. It was ... nice. Soothing. Warm. Samantha's mouth softened, her back arching unconsciously as she leaned up to him, opening more to him, not thinking at all of her father and brother watching her pliant response. He tasted like mint and whisky. When Bobby pulled back, she blinked up at him, almost wanting to protest, lips still parted. He looked down at her and smiled, a gentle kind of triumph in his eyes.
"You stay here," he said, stroking her damp hair. "I'll be right back for you."
"She's mine now," Bobby was saying as he turned back to John, gesturing them out. Dean was the last to go, looking over his shoulder wide-eyed and flushed. Samantha stayed where she was, legs open, letting her brother see everything, chin high and silently daring him to say something stupid. For once, Dean didn't tease her.
Next: Life: Unexpected 3
This entry was originally posted at http://not-me.dreamwidth.org/1527.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Author: not_me2010
Rating: NC-17 (Adult, explicit: sex)
Pairing: Samantha/Bobby, Samantha/John, Samantha/Dean, Samantha/others
Notes: AU, incest, D/s, pregnancy and lactation kinks, some domestic discipline, various sexual kinks, underage (girl!sam is fifteen at the start of this story)
Author Notes: okay, so this got long. As in 13,821 words long, hopefully with more to come. It's based on this prompt: here
It's AU, though not obviously so (aside from girl!Sam) in this section and I've got a bunch of background worldbuilding that supports the story. Mildly pertinent to this is that in hunter 'culture', bitch isn't necessarily derogatory, though young and stupid hunters sometimes treat it so. Young girls in hunter families, still under their father's house are called 'girl' (and non-family aren't supposed to use their names), while older girls, now under a proper master are called bitches.
"It's time," he said quietly. He was almost dressed up, as much as any Winchester did, in a clean dark shirt and new jeans and probably only a half-dozen weapons hidden on him.
Sam pushed her book aside, she hadn't really been able to concentrate on the old Latin anyway. Rubbing her hands on her jeans, she went over to her dad, stomach tight with nerves. She didn't know much about what was going to happen next, because John had been a rube too, once, and even if her mother had lived, she'd chosen an outsider's path. There'd been no one to tell her what to expect as a hunter's daughter.
"I'm giving you over to Bobby," John's hand was steady on her shoulder, though Samantha knew him well enough to hear the tension in his voice. "'Cause he's a good man, and he'll take care of you, and the two of you seem to get on pretty well."
Bobby was more than twice her age but, with everything else, Sam didn't really think it was worth commenting on. Her dad's hand brought her to a halt in the dim hallway. "But I want you to remember," he said, his gaze dark and stubborn. "If you need us, really need us, call and we'll come -- Dean and I. I don't care what hunters do, you're still my daughter, not just my girl, and I'll be there for you."
Samantha blinked at sudden tears in her eyes, rushing forward and throwing her arms around her dad. "I'm so scared," she whispered. "Dad, I'm so scared."
John held her close, pressing his face against her hair, sniffing a little himself. "It'll be okay, Sammy. Bobby's my best friend and I told him I'd rip him apart if he didn't take care of you."
Samantha nodded, face rubbing John's shirt, breathing in the smell of him and realizing she wouldn't be seeing him every day anymore. Her face crumpled but she got everything under control before John stepped back, she didn't want him to see that. She was strong enough for this - or at least stubborn enough. She'd chosen, she wasn't going back on her word.
"According to hunter tradition," John said, clearing his throat as they went upstairs. There was a steaming bath waiting in one of the rooms and he nodded to it. "I'm going to bathe you and bring you to Bobby, and give you to him; from sire to master. You're not to speak, okay?"
Samantha nodded silently, pulling off her clothes and struggling with her embarrassment. "God," she hissed as she stepped into the tub, "it's hot."
"You'll be red as a beet when you come out," John chuckled, picking up a sponge and pouring more of the steaming, herb scented water over her. Sam squealed but held still, she'd felt worse things.
Her father scrubbed her down, sleeves rolled up, expression determinedly neutral as he soaped her breasts and even her pussy, while Samantha closed her eyes. He held out a towel for her when they were done, wrapping her up in it and rubbing briskly and Sam felt like a little kid for a moment, safe and treasured. The feeling buoyed her enough that when John guided her out of the bathroom, still naked, taking even the towel away, she didn't resist.
Sam's dark hair trailed wet down her shoulders and she shivered, after the hot bath, the air felt chilly. Her nipples hardened and Sam just hoped her embarrassed blush was hidden under the heat flush. She clenched her fists against the urge to cover herself as the two of them stepped into Bobby's parlor. Dean and Bobby were both there, waiting, clean and dressed up, like John. She hadn't known that Dean would be there and her knees trembled.
"Shh," Dad murmured, rubbing her back. "Crazy, huh? I know."
Sam managed to take one step than another and she walked to the middle of the room, cleaned up a bit - books pushed aside anyway - and with a fire blazing in the fireplace, to where a very old looking wooden stool waited. It was pretty clear it was for her. The wood was warm and worn silky smooth under her bare ass as she sat down, feet on the bottom rungs. John gave her a quick, tense smile then reached for her knees.
Sam sucked in a quick shocked breath, hearing Dean gasp too, tensing as her father tried to spread her legs. "Sam -" he said softly, head ducked but not enough to hide the blazing embarrassment on his face. "Girl, come on."
Skin burning with shame, Samantha made herself relax, a whimper escaping her as her dad's broad hands pushed her knees wide, spreading her and leaving her completely exposed when he stepped back. The slightly irregular surface of the stool cradled her ass and thighs better when she was spread like this and Samantha wondered how many other women - girls - had been here, waiting while their fathers and brothers decided their fate. She sat up straight. Slouching wouldn't hide her and if she was going to do this, she wasn't going to look like a coward while she did.
Bobby, her dad and Dean were staring at her and the fire was warm at her back. Dean's eyes were wide and almost frightened, as if he hadn't quite believed this would actually happen. It made Samantha feel less scared, and a little pissed, to see his face. Just think what it's like from here, Jerk, she thought. A shiver rippled through her and her breath grew heavier as she watched the men look at her.
They were seeing, she realized, not as daughter or sister, but a girl - legs spread in invitation, naked and vulnerable. Bobby's lips were parted and Samantha thought he liked looking at her like this. A warm, nervous ache gathered in her stomach at the thought.
"This is my girl," John said steadily, like he was starting a ritual. "I have Sire rights over her and there is no other claim on her."
"I see her," Bobby replied neutrally and Sam realized this was a ritual. There was an oddity to the cadence, as if it had once been translated from some other language and she wondered, suddenly, just how old hunter tradition was. "Is she ripe? Is she pure?"
"She's fertile and clean, untouched and of breeding age," John replied, sounding uncomfortable. "Her lineage is ... "
"Just fine," Bobby said quickly.
John sighed, nodding. Her dad wasn't from a hunting family, Sam guessed he couldn't claim her lineage was ... pure. She lifted her chin, there was nothing wrong with her dad.
When Bobby stepped up to her, Sam flinched. This was Bobby and she was naked. "I have the right to inspect the girl," he was speaking as much to her as to John she realized, letting her know what was going to happen next. Sam tried to relax. Bobby's mouth quirked and he gave Sam a quick wink.
He did inspect her, and it wasn't easy to hold still as he looked her over like a man buying a horse; opening her mouth, stroking her back, looking at her hands and feet. He cupped her breasts, fondling them, and Sam couldn't quite keep quiet or still then, panting in dismay, thighs twitching closed before she determinedly spread them again. When he reached between them, she gave a little noise of protest.
Bobby's look was sympathetic. "I need to see if you're a virgin, girl."
"I am," Sam wailed in a whisper, shaking. "Please ...."
Bobby's hand was firm on her thigh, rubbing gently. "Just relax, it won't take but a moment," he winked. "And I got all dolled up for you and everything."
Sam squeezed her eyes shut, trembling all over. "G-go ahead."
Bobby's fingers were rough and cool, and the stool's angle and shape positioned her just right for him to touch her pussy, the soft downy hair there hid nothing. Sam felt Bobby's fingers spreading her labia open and then the blunt pressure of a finger pressing into her and she gasped, eyes flying wide as she was penetrated for the first time. Dean was staring at her, her father was staring at her and Sam clenched her eyes shut again, a sob escaping her. Bobby's finger pushed uncomfortably then withdrew and he stepped back.
"She's untouched," John repeated, grimly.
"Yes," Bobby said. Samantha suspected that they would have said that even if she hadn't been, that they would have completed the ritual even if she'd had sex before, and that was strangely comforting. She was also proud that they didn't have to lie - lying during a ritual was a bad idea. The hunting life didn't exactly make it easy to have meaningful boyfriends, she'd hardly kissed, embarrassing for a fifteen year old in this day and age. The childish embarrassment of being teased at school, though, was nothing compared to the burning universe of embarrassment she lived in now, displayed naked, while her dad traded her off to a man who didn't wash his hair all that often.
"I'll claim this girl, from the hands of an old friend, and for loyalty," Bobby said and, the knowledge that he was her future, that he was going to essentially own her made Samantha suddenly pay fierce attention to the man who was her father's best friend. "I have the weapons to protect her, the riches to care for her, the heart to cherish her, and the strength to master her."
Bobby had been a fixture in her life for so long that Samantha didn't think of him often, she just knew that he' always be at his junkyard and always have just the bit of knowledge they needed in a pinch. Her uncertain gaze shifted from Bobby to Dad and back, he was still here when they needed him, taking in a Winchester girl in the old way, when the Winchesters had made as many enemies among the hunters as friends. He was a friend she thought with a warm rush. A true friend to her family.
He had rough hands, she thought, her pussy was still feeling sensitive from his touch, and a scruffy beard. He wore that damn cap all the time (but not just now), had a library full of ancient texts but hated using computers, wards on every window and door and a ritual prison that could keep the devil himself at bay (never tested that, he'd always say). Her eyes skittered around the room; old wallpaper and scribbled sigils on the ceiling, this would be her home.
"I'll relinquish my claim on the girl, to the hands of an old friend, for loyalty returned," John's voice was shaking and there were tears in his eyes. Samantha bit her lip and felt a tear trickle down her cheek.
Bobby stepped up to Sam again, with a chipped mug in one hand and a piece of bread in the other. His expression was somber. "Eat from my hand," he said gently. "And know your master will succor you."
Samantha opened her mouth tremulously and Bobby popped a piece of bread into her mouth. Wonderbread. Figured.
"Drink from my hand and know your master will shelter you," Bobby offered the mug and Samantha took a drink of plain water. She wondered if she should thank him or something but remembered what her father had said. She wasn't to speak.
"Take silver from my hand and know your master will shield you," Bobby said, then bent close, catching Sam's ear in his fingers. He had two silver hoops in his other hand, faint etchings on them glinting in the firelight. "This is gonna sting but it'll be quick," he whispered.
Sam clenched her hands on the seat of the stool as Bobby pinched first one, then the other earring through her lobes. When he stepped back, her ears throbbed heavily, in time with her beating heart, and she blinked back brief tears. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as when Dean had shot her accidentally.
Bobby cupped Sam's face in his hands, tilting her head up, making her new earrings swing painfully, as he bent to her. "Take a kiss from my mouth and know your master will cherish you."
Bobby's lips were warm and unexpectedly soft, his beard tickled and Samantha squirmed a little at the pressure, parting her lips tentatively. She wanted to do this right, and the husky note in Bobby's voice was encouraging. She heard Dean make some kind of noise but didn't care, Bobby's tongue was stroking into her mouth in gentle pushes. It was ... nice. Soothing. Warm. Samantha's mouth softened, her back arching unconsciously as she leaned up to him, opening more to him, not thinking at all of her father and brother watching her pliant response. He tasted like mint and whisky. When Bobby pulled back, she blinked up at him, almost wanting to protest, lips still parted. He looked down at her and smiled, a gentle kind of triumph in his eyes.
"You stay here," he said, stroking her damp hair. "I'll be right back for you."
"She's mine now," Bobby was saying as he turned back to John, gesturing them out. Dean was the last to go, looking over his shoulder wide-eyed and flushed. Samantha stayed where she was, legs open, letting her brother see everything, chin high and silently daring him to say something stupid. For once, Dean didn't tease her.
Next: Life: Unexpected 3
This entry was originally posted at http://not-me.dreamwidth.org/1527.html. Please comment there using OpenID.