Don't Say You're Sorry, Supernatural, NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Don't Say You're Sorry
Pairing/Characters: Dean, Sam, Sam/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3747
Summary: John disappeared and Dean is left to take care of Sam. When Dean gets himself into big trouble with a bad guy, it's up to Sam to bail him out. This is the sequel to Don't Go Out Tonight and Don't Say No
A/Ns & Warnings: This is Hooker!fic. Dean is hooking to make money for him and Sam to live on. This is pimp!fic, in that Dean has to give Sam to the guy who he owes money. It is underage (Sam is 17). But it is consensual, mostly. Dub-con at worst. There is also cross-dressing and bondage. This isn't "happy" hooker fic.
“Sam, can I have a word?”
Sam paused on his way out of his history class and glanced at his teacher. He nodded tightly and they waited as the rest of the class filed out of the room, when they were alone, Mr. Glenn got up and closed the door, before coming back to lean against his desk and cross his arms.
“Is everything okay, Sam?”
Sam swallowed and looked away. Of course everything wasn’t okay, but he wasn’t about to tell his history teacher that. “Of course.” His voice was tight, strained.
Mr. Glenn nodded. “I ask because you’ve been acting strangely all week. I want you to know that you can talk to me.”
Sam shook his head, his ass clenching against the desk behind him. “Thanks, Mr. Glenn. But I’m okay.”
Mr. Glenn regarded him for a moment, then dropped his gaze. “I heard a rumor that you’ve been spending time with Mosely Aims.”
Panic shot through Sam. He stood upright. “No. I mean, we live near his club, you know? Walk past it sometimes.”
“No matter what a man like him offers you, Sam, he’s only after one thing.”
“Believe me, I know.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest, hoping the teacher would see through him, wouldn’t know. “I…I really have to get going. Dean’s expecting me.”
He didn’t wait for Mr. Glenn to respond, he bolted for the door, head down. He had to get home, get ready. Tonight was the last time. It would be over in just a few hours, and they could get back to their lives.
“Hey Winchester!”
He didn’t stop, just kept moving.
“Winchester!”
They caught him at the corner, surrounding him. Six boys from the rough and tumble neighborhood Sam and Dean lived in. “We were calling you.”
“I don’t have time, Rick. I’ve got things to do.”
“Way I hear it, you’re the one being done.”
Sam sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to push through them, but Tyrone caught his arm.
“Mosely Aims.” Tyrone said, leaning in. “My cousin works for him. Says you been visiting.”
Sam pulled loose and shook his head. “Your cousin’s telling stories. I got work to do at home.” He pushed through them, but only got a few steps before they were circling around him again.
“You a whore like your brother, Sammy?” Rick asked. “Take it up the ass for a little cash?”
“Fuck off Rick.” Sam growled.
“How much? I always wondered what the big deal was. How about we go into the alley over there. I got fifty bucks.”
Sam pushed again, but this time the circle held. “Let me through.”
“Problem?”
Everyone in the circle froze. “Dean, I was on my way.” Sam said, thanking him with his eyes.
“I told you straight home.” He reached through two of the boys to grab Sam’s shoulder. They parted and let him through. “You got work to do.” He maneuvered Sam in front of him, then turned back to the boys. “You boys ever touch my brother again, you’ll answer to me.”
Sam was shaking when they got around the corner, part from the altercation, part in anticipation of what was coming. “They won’t be scared off for long. You’re going to have to watch your back.” Dean said, hurrying them along.
Once in the apartment Sam relaxed a little. At least he knew what to do next. Shower. Dress. That stopped him. He looked at the bag on the table. He hadn’t looked yet. Didn’t know what new humiliation waited him. But it would be over. The last time.
“I came because Mosely sent someone to say things had changed. We got a longer walk.”
Sam nodded, though he hadn’t really heard. “What? Where?”
Dean made a face. “Some warehouse.”
“Yeah, okay. I guess I’ll shower.”
It would be his fourth for the day. Never felt clean for very long. His skin was dry in places. The bottom of his feet cracked. He grabbed the bag and headed for the bathroom.
It wasn’t until the bathroom door was closed that he opened the bag. He closed it again, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He wasn’t sure he could deal with it. He pulled out the note again. Read it through.
Then he left it all and got in the shower. He scrubbed and turned the hot water on as high as he could, watching his skin turn red. He could do this. He repeated it like a mantra to himself until the water started to turn cold.
There was no make up this time. No skirt or heels.
There was a pair of white lace panties. There was a leash and collar of white patent leather. Dean was required to lead him in with the leash, give the leash to Mosely. Dean wouldn’t be allowed to watch this time. He would give Sam over and leave. Wait outside.
The note told him to use a lot of lube. At the bottom of the bag was…a black plastic…well, Sam assumed it was a butt plug. He’d never actually seen one, not like that. He was supposed to put it in and keep it there until Mosely took it out.
He could do this.
He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He wasn’t convinced he could. In shaking hands he pulled the lube out of the medicine chest and squirted some on his fingers. He didn’t want to have to make Dean do it. Not again. Not after…Sam slid his slicked up fingers inside himself. Tried to mimic what Dean had done. It took time with the awkward position, but slowly he felt his opening loosen.
He used more lube, then reached for the plug. He licked his lips. How hard could it be? It wasn’t as big as Mosely’s dick. It couldn’t possibly hurt as much. Sam settled it against his ass and pressed lightly. Its rounded tip slipped in easily, though the friction increased as the plug widened. Sam’s mouth dropped open as he kept pressing it in, and then suddenly it popped and the biggest part of the head was inside him, the flared bottom resting flush against his ass.
Sam breathed through the discomfort, shifted his weight. He could feel it there. Inside him. Filling him. He reached next for the panties, trying not to look at them as he pulled them on. They were more humiliating than the skirts. They were stretchy and thin and he felt like he wasn’t wearing anything at all, except where the elastic around the leg holes stretched tight against his thighs. He was uncomfortable. Naked.
He adjusted his cock so the lace mostly covered it and didn’t look at himself. Couldn’t look at himself. He lifted the collar and swallowed. He huffed twice before he put it against his neck.
He could do this.
It barely fit, buckling tight against the column of his throat. He swallowed again, feeling the way it constrained him. It only took a second to be too much and he frantically pulled it off.
“Sam?”
“I’m okay Dean.” I’m okay. I can do this. It was all a lie. Even his voice betrayed him.
Dean opened the door, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Sam blinked back tears, holding up the collar. “I-I don’t think….I don’t think I can do it.”
“Shh…here…” He took the collar, then took Sam’s hand, leading him out to the table. His threadbare flannel bathrobe lay over his chair. Sam put it on slowly, covering his nearly naked body. Dean must have known. Must have looked in the bag. “We don’t have to.”
They both looked at the collar in Dean’s hands.
“Yeah. We do.”
“I’ve got soup on.”
Sam shook his head. “Not hungry. I just…I want it over.”
“Sam. I-“ Dean looked away and Sam nodded.
“I know.” He swallowed and reached again for the collar. “It’s almost over.”
He slid the leather around his neck and buckled it. The long trench coat Dean had found lay on the back of the couch. Sam slipped his feet into his sneakers for the walk. He’d have to take it all off once they got there, but…until then…He grimaced as he took the two steps to the couch. His ass burned, stretched around the plug.
It was just starting to get dark when they left the apartment. Music blared from some window. A group of boys on the corner were rapping. They had a bit of a walk, through some of the toughest stretches of neighborhood.
Dean had wanted to take a cab, but the note had said to walk. So they walked. Sam wasn’t sure which would have been worse with the butt plug up his ass, the walking or the sitting. Dean had the leash in his pocket. Sam had the collar of his coat turned up to hide the leather around his neck.
They walked in silence, Dean’s hand brushing Sam’s ever few steps as if to remind him he was right there…and that they could run. Sam just had to say the word. Sam stopped in sight of the warehouse. There were cars and trucks, people milling around. He was already starting to breath heavy. “Just, give me a minute.”
Dean gathered him close, drew him into the shadows between buildings. “Breathe, Sammy.”
“I can do this. I can do this.” Sam whispered over and over.
“You don’t have to. I’ll find another way.”
Sam shook his head and started to pull of the coat. “No. Let’s just get it over with.”
Dean’s heart was thumping inside his chest, beating out a litany of things his father was going to do when he found out. And he would. Somehow. Dean just knew it. When it was over, they were leaving. School or no school.
The crowd outside the warehouse was starting to disperse as they got closer, and no one said a word, though they stared as Dean led Sam to the door. Sam didn’t say a word, just kept his eyes down and followed. Inside there was a small office area and a door leading back into the warehouse.
One of Mosely’s guys opened that door and beckoned them in.
“You’re late.” Mosely bellowed, pushing someone out of his way and stalking toward them. The place was empty, but for a bed and a bunch of lights. Mosely grinned. Dean wanted to punch him in the nuts. He wanted to disembowel him. Cut off his nose…and other choice bits of his anatomy. “Give him to me.”
Dean clenched his jaw and lifted the end of the leash. Mosely took it, winding it around his fist until Sam was forced to take a step forward. His eyes never left Dean’s though, even when he held his hand, and the leash, out to one of his flunkies. “Get Sweetcheeks here ready for me, while I have a word with big brother.”
Sam looked at him once as he was pulled away, then Mosely was turning Dean and taking him back to the door. “You wait here. I hear a word or see your face, the deal’s off and you whored out your baby brother for nothing. Got me?”
Dean nodded tightly. “Good. There’s coffee. Help yourself.”
Mosely closed the door and left Dean fuming. He paced, trying to hear what was going on inside, hoping Sam was okay…and starting to plan his revenge.
Sam didn’t fight, exactly. He stumbled a little on the filthy floor as the guy holding the end of the leash tugged. Then came the panic. “Up on the bed. On your knees.” Even as he was doing that, the man pulled and looped the leash around a hook in the high headboard of the bed, pulling it so tight that Sam’s nose was only about six inches from the headboard.
The sheets beneath him were wet…and he could tell by the smell that there had been sex there. A lot of sex.
The man grabbed at a wrist and pulled, slapping into a Velcro restraint off to the side. Another man came and did the same on the other side. Then they were pulling on his hips, spreading his knees…and there was more Velcro on his ankles and calves.
“Very nice boys.” They backed off and Mosely took their place. “You are quiet pretty like that, you know?”
“Stop playing games.” Sam said through clenched teeth. “Just get on with it.”
Mosely petted through his hair. “Oh, I’ll get on with it. But first, I thought we’d have a drink.” He snapped his fingers and Sam couldn’t see why, not until Mosely pulled his head back. “Open wide.” He poured a stream of water into Sam’s mouth and Sam was forced to swallow or drown. “That’s a good girl. It’ll help loosen you up…so we can have some fun.” He slapped Sam’s ass then, driving the plug up inside him.
It didn’t take long to figure out there was something in the water. Sam’s vision got a little blurry, his tongue thick. Mosely was laughing, his fingers touching, sliding over Sam’s skin with something that was tingly…hot…wet.
“We’re going to see how much big brother follows the rules, tonight, little girl. Gonna make you scream and moan…make you beg…does he love you enough to come in here and save you?”
Something harder than a hand fell on Sam’s ass and he yelped. It came again, and again.
“Look so good in lace…bet I could get a fortune for you...” The bed shifted and hands were pulling the lace down…the plug shifted, slowly came out, only to be shoved back in. Mosely fucked into him, angling it back and forth until he found that spot…the one that made Sam’s cock take notice.
There was laughter. A lot of laughter. Sam shook his head, trying to clear it. “Just do it already.” He growled, shaking against the restraints.
“Here our little whore? She can’t wait to have my big cock inside her.” Mosely leaned in over Sam, his breath hot against the side of his face. “Tell me how you want me, baby…”
Sam closed his eyes and tried to pull away. “Just…get it over with.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” There were more slaps, now against his bare ass. “This just isn’t big enough.” He pulled the plug out, then Sam felt something else….something big. “Hope you used enough lube.” Mosely said as he pressed.
Whatever it was, it was big and it hurt. Sam tensed against it, fighting it. “Yell when it hurts, baby. I want big brother to hear you.”
Sam bit his lip and tried to hold it in. There was a moment of relief as it slid out, but it was brief as Mosely shoved it all the harder. Sam couldn’t help but scream as it sank into him, thick and deep and more than anything he’d ever had, ever though….
Mosely and the others were laughing. Sam sagged against the headboard, his cock grazing the grimy sheets. It was hard and Sam gasped as the slick wet cotton slid along it. Mosely’s hand reached between Sam’s legs and fondled his balls. “Whore.” Mosely whispered in his ear.
He petted down over Sam’s back and squeezed his balls with the other hand. “Hot little whore.” He squeezed harder and Sam yelled again, pulling on his wrists. His hand moved to Sam’s cock. “I saw you.” He pulled down on it. “I saw you in the alley, with your brother.” He jerked Sam slow but hard. “I saw him stick his hand up under your skirt and jack you off.”
Sam shivered and fought the sensation, the building orgasm. He didn’t want to come like this. It was dirty, wrong. Whatever drug had been in the water though…it weakened him, made him less in control.
Mosely’s hand left his back, moved to his ass, to the fucking fake cock shoved up inside him. He pulled it out and rammed it back in, Sam screamed, shook. He set up a rhythm, a pull on his cock while he pulled out the dildo, then he’d ram it in while his hand slid up his cock. “Dean.” He whispered it into the wood of the headboard.
“Did you return the favor, whore?” Sam could feel Mosely’s lips on his ear. Moist, disgusting. “Did you get down on your knees and suck him with that whore’s mouth?”
Sam clenched his teeth as Mosely fucked him all the harder with the fake cock, jacked him all the rougher. He grunted and tried not to yell, not scream. “Has he bent you over the kitchen table yet and taken some of this sweet ass?”
Mosely closed his fist over Sam’s cock and squeezed as Sam started to come, making it longer, harder…slower. “You know he wants to. I could see it in his eyes while you were fucking yourself on my cock.”
He let go of Sam’s cock and his orgasm spilled onto the bed under him. Mosley chuckled and pulled the dildo out. He dumped it on the bed under Sam. “Tools of the trade, baby. Get used to it.” The bed moved. Someone was behind Sam, and it wasn’t Mosely.
“No.” Sam shook his head, pulled on the restraints.
Mosely looked amused. “Yes. I ain’t quite done with you yet. Go on.”
Sam almost couldn’t feel it, not after the huge dildo, not until the man was balls deep and laying on his back. He moved fast, hard and when he came, Sam certainly felt that. “Please. Just. End it.”
“You’re going to be leaving a trail of come when you go home, baby.” Mosely said, caressing over Sam’s face with mock tenderness.
Dean couldn’t sit still. Not with Sam’s screams and whimpers. At first he didn’t understand why he could hear them so clearly, then he realized there were speakers in the corners.
Mosely wanted him to hear.
He couldn’t count the number of times he went to the door. At least three he got so far as to touch the door knob. He was just about ready to go tearing in there when it stopped. Like the speakers had been cut off.
A few minutes later, the door opened and Mosely stepped out, zipping up his pants. “You and me? We’re square. Now get your whore off my property, and don’t cross me again.”
Dean scrambled past him. The room was darker now, most of the big lights turned off. Mosely’s men followed him out. Sam lay on the bed, on his side, curled up in a ball.
“Sammy?”
He stiffened, covered his face. He curled in tighter. “Don’t.”
“It’s okay, Sammy. I’m going to get you home.”
Sam was shaking. The lace panties were still around his thighs. “Let’s get these off you.” He reached for Sam, but Sam pulled away.
“Don’t.” He sat up slowly. “I…I can…” He pushed at the lace with one hand, covering his cock with the other.
Once he’d gotten them off, Dean handed him first his bathrobe, then put his shoes on the floor. Sam moved slowly, stiffly. “What did he do?” Dean asked in a whisper, not sure he really wanted to know. On the bed behind Sam he spotted a big black dildo, and he got a pretty good idea of what Mosely had done.
Sam shook his head. “It’s over. That’s all that matters.” He stuck his feet into his shoes and stood. “It’s over.”
“Yeah, Sam. It’s over.” Dean slung the coat around his shoulders, his fingers brushing over the collar. Sam cringed. Dean worked the buckle and pulled it off, tossing it on the bed. “There…see, over. It’s all over.”
Sam shuffled more than walked toward the door with Dean following. Sam stiffened near the door. There was come oozing down his leg. Dean swallowed and bent to flick it off. He did it again when they got to the street.
Obviously that was more than just Mosely.
Dean was going to kill the bastard. Gut him. Salt and burn him. Less than a block away from the warehouse, Dean spotted a cab and flagged it down. Sam didn’t even argue, just climbed in, leaning against Dean so his ass didn’t touch the seat.
Dean paid the cabby and helped Sam out and into the apartment, straight into the bathroom where he started the shower. He peeled off the coat, and reached for the bathrobe. “Come on Sammy, in you go.” Sam was shivering as obeyed blindly, dropping the bathrobe into Dean’s hands.
He left Sam there and took the robe and coat straight out to the trash. Both were soaked through with come. Dean didn’t ever want to see them again. He restarted the soup and poured the whiskey. Sam was going to need both.
He sat at the table and listened to the shower. At least the next day was Saturday and Sam didn’t have to worry about school. He could sleep, rest. Put this all behind him.
Dean shook his head. He was deluding himself. Neither one of them was going to put this behind them any time soon. He slammed a shot of whiskey, then a second. The shower stopped and after a few minutes, Sam shuffled out, wrapped in a towel. He was still moving slowly.
“Can you sit?”
Sam didn’t look at him as he made a face. “Don’t think so.”
“I’ll get a pillow.” He settled a pillow onto the chair and helped Sam sit gingerly, then handed him a shot of whiskey. “Drink this. I’ll get you some soup.”
“Not hungry.” He downed the shot though and reached a shaking hand for the bottle. After his second, he glanced up at Dean, then away. “I just…I want to sleep.”
“Okay.” Dean helped him up, over to the bed.
“Stop.”
Sam pushed him a little. “I can manage.” He winced as he sat, then shifted so he was on his hip.
Dean went to one knee beside the bed, brushing a hand over Sam’s forehead. “I should never have let you do this.”
“I’m okay.” Sam said, though neither of them believed it anymore.
“God Sam, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t.” Sam’s eyes closed. “Don’t say you’re sorry. I couldn’t lose you.”
“You won’t ever lose me, Sam.” Dean said fiercely. “Never.”
Title: Don't Say You're Sorry
Pairing/Characters: Dean, Sam, Sam/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3747
Summary: John disappeared and Dean is left to take care of Sam. When Dean gets himself into big trouble with a bad guy, it's up to Sam to bail him out. This is the sequel to Don't Go Out Tonight and Don't Say No
A/Ns & Warnings: This is Hooker!fic. Dean is hooking to make money for him and Sam to live on. This is pimp!fic, in that Dean has to give Sam to the guy who he owes money. It is underage (Sam is 17). But it is consensual, mostly. Dub-con at worst. There is also cross-dressing and bondage. This isn't "happy" hooker fic.
“Sam, can I have a word?”
Sam paused on his way out of his history class and glanced at his teacher. He nodded tightly and they waited as the rest of the class filed out of the room, when they were alone, Mr. Glenn got up and closed the door, before coming back to lean against his desk and cross his arms.
“Is everything okay, Sam?”
Sam swallowed and looked away. Of course everything wasn’t okay, but he wasn’t about to tell his history teacher that. “Of course.” His voice was tight, strained.
Mr. Glenn nodded. “I ask because you’ve been acting strangely all week. I want you to know that you can talk to me.”
Sam shook his head, his ass clenching against the desk behind him. “Thanks, Mr. Glenn. But I’m okay.”
Mr. Glenn regarded him for a moment, then dropped his gaze. “I heard a rumor that you’ve been spending time with Mosely Aims.”
Panic shot through Sam. He stood upright. “No. I mean, we live near his club, you know? Walk past it sometimes.”
“No matter what a man like him offers you, Sam, he’s only after one thing.”
“Believe me, I know.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest, hoping the teacher would see through him, wouldn’t know. “I…I really have to get going. Dean’s expecting me.”
He didn’t wait for Mr. Glenn to respond, he bolted for the door, head down. He had to get home, get ready. Tonight was the last time. It would be over in just a few hours, and they could get back to their lives.
“Hey Winchester!”
He didn’t stop, just kept moving.
“Winchester!”
They caught him at the corner, surrounding him. Six boys from the rough and tumble neighborhood Sam and Dean lived in. “We were calling you.”
“I don’t have time, Rick. I’ve got things to do.”
“Way I hear it, you’re the one being done.”
Sam sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to push through them, but Tyrone caught his arm.
“Mosely Aims.” Tyrone said, leaning in. “My cousin works for him. Says you been visiting.”
Sam pulled loose and shook his head. “Your cousin’s telling stories. I got work to do at home.” He pushed through them, but only got a few steps before they were circling around him again.
“You a whore like your brother, Sammy?” Rick asked. “Take it up the ass for a little cash?”
“Fuck off Rick.” Sam growled.
“How much? I always wondered what the big deal was. How about we go into the alley over there. I got fifty bucks.”
Sam pushed again, but this time the circle held. “Let me through.”
“Problem?”
Everyone in the circle froze. “Dean, I was on my way.” Sam said, thanking him with his eyes.
“I told you straight home.” He reached through two of the boys to grab Sam’s shoulder. They parted and let him through. “You got work to do.” He maneuvered Sam in front of him, then turned back to the boys. “You boys ever touch my brother again, you’ll answer to me.”
Sam was shaking when they got around the corner, part from the altercation, part in anticipation of what was coming. “They won’t be scared off for long. You’re going to have to watch your back.” Dean said, hurrying them along.
Once in the apartment Sam relaxed a little. At least he knew what to do next. Shower. Dress. That stopped him. He looked at the bag on the table. He hadn’t looked yet. Didn’t know what new humiliation waited him. But it would be over. The last time.
“I came because Mosely sent someone to say things had changed. We got a longer walk.”
Sam nodded, though he hadn’t really heard. “What? Where?”
Dean made a face. “Some warehouse.”
“Yeah, okay. I guess I’ll shower.”
It would be his fourth for the day. Never felt clean for very long. His skin was dry in places. The bottom of his feet cracked. He grabbed the bag and headed for the bathroom.
It wasn’t until the bathroom door was closed that he opened the bag. He closed it again, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He wasn’t sure he could deal with it. He pulled out the note again. Read it through.
Then he left it all and got in the shower. He scrubbed and turned the hot water on as high as he could, watching his skin turn red. He could do this. He repeated it like a mantra to himself until the water started to turn cold.
There was no make up this time. No skirt or heels.
There was a pair of white lace panties. There was a leash and collar of white patent leather. Dean was required to lead him in with the leash, give the leash to Mosely. Dean wouldn’t be allowed to watch this time. He would give Sam over and leave. Wait outside.
The note told him to use a lot of lube. At the bottom of the bag was…a black plastic…well, Sam assumed it was a butt plug. He’d never actually seen one, not like that. He was supposed to put it in and keep it there until Mosely took it out.
He could do this.
He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He wasn’t convinced he could. In shaking hands he pulled the lube out of the medicine chest and squirted some on his fingers. He didn’t want to have to make Dean do it. Not again. Not after…Sam slid his slicked up fingers inside himself. Tried to mimic what Dean had done. It took time with the awkward position, but slowly he felt his opening loosen.
He used more lube, then reached for the plug. He licked his lips. How hard could it be? It wasn’t as big as Mosely’s dick. It couldn’t possibly hurt as much. Sam settled it against his ass and pressed lightly. Its rounded tip slipped in easily, though the friction increased as the plug widened. Sam’s mouth dropped open as he kept pressing it in, and then suddenly it popped and the biggest part of the head was inside him, the flared bottom resting flush against his ass.
Sam breathed through the discomfort, shifted his weight. He could feel it there. Inside him. Filling him. He reached next for the panties, trying not to look at them as he pulled them on. They were more humiliating than the skirts. They were stretchy and thin and he felt like he wasn’t wearing anything at all, except where the elastic around the leg holes stretched tight against his thighs. He was uncomfortable. Naked.
He adjusted his cock so the lace mostly covered it and didn’t look at himself. Couldn’t look at himself. He lifted the collar and swallowed. He huffed twice before he put it against his neck.
He could do this.
It barely fit, buckling tight against the column of his throat. He swallowed again, feeling the way it constrained him. It only took a second to be too much and he frantically pulled it off.
“Sam?”
“I’m okay Dean.” I’m okay. I can do this. It was all a lie. Even his voice betrayed him.
Dean opened the door, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Sam blinked back tears, holding up the collar. “I-I don’t think….I don’t think I can do it.”
“Shh…here…” He took the collar, then took Sam’s hand, leading him out to the table. His threadbare flannel bathrobe lay over his chair. Sam put it on slowly, covering his nearly naked body. Dean must have known. Must have looked in the bag. “We don’t have to.”
They both looked at the collar in Dean’s hands.
“Yeah. We do.”
“I’ve got soup on.”
Sam shook his head. “Not hungry. I just…I want it over.”
“Sam. I-“ Dean looked away and Sam nodded.
“I know.” He swallowed and reached again for the collar. “It’s almost over.”
He slid the leather around his neck and buckled it. The long trench coat Dean had found lay on the back of the couch. Sam slipped his feet into his sneakers for the walk. He’d have to take it all off once they got there, but…until then…He grimaced as he took the two steps to the couch. His ass burned, stretched around the plug.
It was just starting to get dark when they left the apartment. Music blared from some window. A group of boys on the corner were rapping. They had a bit of a walk, through some of the toughest stretches of neighborhood.
Dean had wanted to take a cab, but the note had said to walk. So they walked. Sam wasn’t sure which would have been worse with the butt plug up his ass, the walking or the sitting. Dean had the leash in his pocket. Sam had the collar of his coat turned up to hide the leather around his neck.
They walked in silence, Dean’s hand brushing Sam’s ever few steps as if to remind him he was right there…and that they could run. Sam just had to say the word. Sam stopped in sight of the warehouse. There were cars and trucks, people milling around. He was already starting to breath heavy. “Just, give me a minute.”
Dean gathered him close, drew him into the shadows between buildings. “Breathe, Sammy.”
“I can do this. I can do this.” Sam whispered over and over.
“You don’t have to. I’ll find another way.”
Sam shook his head and started to pull of the coat. “No. Let’s just get it over with.”
Dean’s heart was thumping inside his chest, beating out a litany of things his father was going to do when he found out. And he would. Somehow. Dean just knew it. When it was over, they were leaving. School or no school.
The crowd outside the warehouse was starting to disperse as they got closer, and no one said a word, though they stared as Dean led Sam to the door. Sam didn’t say a word, just kept his eyes down and followed. Inside there was a small office area and a door leading back into the warehouse.
One of Mosely’s guys opened that door and beckoned them in.
“You’re late.” Mosely bellowed, pushing someone out of his way and stalking toward them. The place was empty, but for a bed and a bunch of lights. Mosely grinned. Dean wanted to punch him in the nuts. He wanted to disembowel him. Cut off his nose…and other choice bits of his anatomy. “Give him to me.”
Dean clenched his jaw and lifted the end of the leash. Mosely took it, winding it around his fist until Sam was forced to take a step forward. His eyes never left Dean’s though, even when he held his hand, and the leash, out to one of his flunkies. “Get Sweetcheeks here ready for me, while I have a word with big brother.”
Sam looked at him once as he was pulled away, then Mosely was turning Dean and taking him back to the door. “You wait here. I hear a word or see your face, the deal’s off and you whored out your baby brother for nothing. Got me?”
Dean nodded tightly. “Good. There’s coffee. Help yourself.”
Mosely closed the door and left Dean fuming. He paced, trying to hear what was going on inside, hoping Sam was okay…and starting to plan his revenge.
Sam didn’t fight, exactly. He stumbled a little on the filthy floor as the guy holding the end of the leash tugged. Then came the panic. “Up on the bed. On your knees.” Even as he was doing that, the man pulled and looped the leash around a hook in the high headboard of the bed, pulling it so tight that Sam’s nose was only about six inches from the headboard.
The sheets beneath him were wet…and he could tell by the smell that there had been sex there. A lot of sex.
The man grabbed at a wrist and pulled, slapping into a Velcro restraint off to the side. Another man came and did the same on the other side. Then they were pulling on his hips, spreading his knees…and there was more Velcro on his ankles and calves.
“Very nice boys.” They backed off and Mosely took their place. “You are quiet pretty like that, you know?”
“Stop playing games.” Sam said through clenched teeth. “Just get on with it.”
Mosely petted through his hair. “Oh, I’ll get on with it. But first, I thought we’d have a drink.” He snapped his fingers and Sam couldn’t see why, not until Mosely pulled his head back. “Open wide.” He poured a stream of water into Sam’s mouth and Sam was forced to swallow or drown. “That’s a good girl. It’ll help loosen you up…so we can have some fun.” He slapped Sam’s ass then, driving the plug up inside him.
It didn’t take long to figure out there was something in the water. Sam’s vision got a little blurry, his tongue thick. Mosely was laughing, his fingers touching, sliding over Sam’s skin with something that was tingly…hot…wet.
“We’re going to see how much big brother follows the rules, tonight, little girl. Gonna make you scream and moan…make you beg…does he love you enough to come in here and save you?”
Something harder than a hand fell on Sam’s ass and he yelped. It came again, and again.
“Look so good in lace…bet I could get a fortune for you...” The bed shifted and hands were pulling the lace down…the plug shifted, slowly came out, only to be shoved back in. Mosely fucked into him, angling it back and forth until he found that spot…the one that made Sam’s cock take notice.
There was laughter. A lot of laughter. Sam shook his head, trying to clear it. “Just do it already.” He growled, shaking against the restraints.
“Here our little whore? She can’t wait to have my big cock inside her.” Mosely leaned in over Sam, his breath hot against the side of his face. “Tell me how you want me, baby…”
Sam closed his eyes and tried to pull away. “Just…get it over with.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” There were more slaps, now against his bare ass. “This just isn’t big enough.” He pulled the plug out, then Sam felt something else….something big. “Hope you used enough lube.” Mosely said as he pressed.
Whatever it was, it was big and it hurt. Sam tensed against it, fighting it. “Yell when it hurts, baby. I want big brother to hear you.”
Sam bit his lip and tried to hold it in. There was a moment of relief as it slid out, but it was brief as Mosely shoved it all the harder. Sam couldn’t help but scream as it sank into him, thick and deep and more than anything he’d ever had, ever though….
Mosely and the others were laughing. Sam sagged against the headboard, his cock grazing the grimy sheets. It was hard and Sam gasped as the slick wet cotton slid along it. Mosely’s hand reached between Sam’s legs and fondled his balls. “Whore.” Mosely whispered in his ear.
He petted down over Sam’s back and squeezed his balls with the other hand. “Hot little whore.” He squeezed harder and Sam yelled again, pulling on his wrists. His hand moved to Sam’s cock. “I saw you.” He pulled down on it. “I saw you in the alley, with your brother.” He jerked Sam slow but hard. “I saw him stick his hand up under your skirt and jack you off.”
Sam shivered and fought the sensation, the building orgasm. He didn’t want to come like this. It was dirty, wrong. Whatever drug had been in the water though…it weakened him, made him less in control.
Mosely’s hand left his back, moved to his ass, to the fucking fake cock shoved up inside him. He pulled it out and rammed it back in, Sam screamed, shook. He set up a rhythm, a pull on his cock while he pulled out the dildo, then he’d ram it in while his hand slid up his cock. “Dean.” He whispered it into the wood of the headboard.
“Did you return the favor, whore?” Sam could feel Mosely’s lips on his ear. Moist, disgusting. “Did you get down on your knees and suck him with that whore’s mouth?”
Sam clenched his teeth as Mosely fucked him all the harder with the fake cock, jacked him all the rougher. He grunted and tried not to yell, not scream. “Has he bent you over the kitchen table yet and taken some of this sweet ass?”
Mosely closed his fist over Sam’s cock and squeezed as Sam started to come, making it longer, harder…slower. “You know he wants to. I could see it in his eyes while you were fucking yourself on my cock.”
He let go of Sam’s cock and his orgasm spilled onto the bed under him. Mosley chuckled and pulled the dildo out. He dumped it on the bed under Sam. “Tools of the trade, baby. Get used to it.” The bed moved. Someone was behind Sam, and it wasn’t Mosely.
“No.” Sam shook his head, pulled on the restraints.
Mosely looked amused. “Yes. I ain’t quite done with you yet. Go on.”
Sam almost couldn’t feel it, not after the huge dildo, not until the man was balls deep and laying on his back. He moved fast, hard and when he came, Sam certainly felt that. “Please. Just. End it.”
“You’re going to be leaving a trail of come when you go home, baby.” Mosely said, caressing over Sam’s face with mock tenderness.
Dean couldn’t sit still. Not with Sam’s screams and whimpers. At first he didn’t understand why he could hear them so clearly, then he realized there were speakers in the corners.
Mosely wanted him to hear.
He couldn’t count the number of times he went to the door. At least three he got so far as to touch the door knob. He was just about ready to go tearing in there when it stopped. Like the speakers had been cut off.
A few minutes later, the door opened and Mosely stepped out, zipping up his pants. “You and me? We’re square. Now get your whore off my property, and don’t cross me again.”
Dean scrambled past him. The room was darker now, most of the big lights turned off. Mosely’s men followed him out. Sam lay on the bed, on his side, curled up in a ball.
“Sammy?”
He stiffened, covered his face. He curled in tighter. “Don’t.”
“It’s okay, Sammy. I’m going to get you home.”
Sam was shaking. The lace panties were still around his thighs. “Let’s get these off you.” He reached for Sam, but Sam pulled away.
“Don’t.” He sat up slowly. “I…I can…” He pushed at the lace with one hand, covering his cock with the other.
Once he’d gotten them off, Dean handed him first his bathrobe, then put his shoes on the floor. Sam moved slowly, stiffly. “What did he do?” Dean asked in a whisper, not sure he really wanted to know. On the bed behind Sam he spotted a big black dildo, and he got a pretty good idea of what Mosely had done.
Sam shook his head. “It’s over. That’s all that matters.” He stuck his feet into his shoes and stood. “It’s over.”
“Yeah, Sam. It’s over.” Dean slung the coat around his shoulders, his fingers brushing over the collar. Sam cringed. Dean worked the buckle and pulled it off, tossing it on the bed. “There…see, over. It’s all over.”
Sam shuffled more than walked toward the door with Dean following. Sam stiffened near the door. There was come oozing down his leg. Dean swallowed and bent to flick it off. He did it again when they got to the street.
Obviously that was more than just Mosely.
Dean was going to kill the bastard. Gut him. Salt and burn him. Less than a block away from the warehouse, Dean spotted a cab and flagged it down. Sam didn’t even argue, just climbed in, leaning against Dean so his ass didn’t touch the seat.
Dean paid the cabby and helped Sam out and into the apartment, straight into the bathroom where he started the shower. He peeled off the coat, and reached for the bathrobe. “Come on Sammy, in you go.” Sam was shivering as obeyed blindly, dropping the bathrobe into Dean’s hands.
He left Sam there and took the robe and coat straight out to the trash. Both were soaked through with come. Dean didn’t ever want to see them again. He restarted the soup and poured the whiskey. Sam was going to need both.
He sat at the table and listened to the shower. At least the next day was Saturday and Sam didn’t have to worry about school. He could sleep, rest. Put this all behind him.
Dean shook his head. He was deluding himself. Neither one of them was going to put this behind them any time soon. He slammed a shot of whiskey, then a second. The shower stopped and after a few minutes, Sam shuffled out, wrapped in a towel. He was still moving slowly.
“Can you sit?”
Sam didn’t look at him as he made a face. “Don’t think so.”
“I’ll get a pillow.” He settled a pillow onto the chair and helped Sam sit gingerly, then handed him a shot of whiskey. “Drink this. I’ll get you some soup.”
“Not hungry.” He downed the shot though and reached a shaking hand for the bottle. After his second, he glanced up at Dean, then away. “I just…I want to sleep.”
“Okay.” Dean helped him up, over to the bed.
“Stop.”
Sam pushed him a little. “I can manage.” He winced as he sat, then shifted so he was on his hip.
Dean went to one knee beside the bed, brushing a hand over Sam’s forehead. “I should never have let you do this.”
“I’m okay.” Sam said, though neither of them believed it anymore.
“God Sam, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t.” Sam’s eyes closed. “Don’t say you’re sorry. I couldn’t lose you.”
“You won’t ever lose me, Sam.” Dean said fiercely. “Never.”