His Master's Will, Supernatural/RPS, NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural/RPS
Title: His Master's Will
Characters/Pairings: John Winchester/Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Dean/Sam, Dean/OFC/JDM (sort of)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1357
Summary: Because my Brain is evil, she got this idea in her head of John Winchester as a vampire, keeping Jeff as his pet. Mostly this is just to get this out of my head. Also for the porn.
A/Ns & Warnings: I lay the blame for this firmly on badfalcon's shoulders. She started it and once my Brain got a hold of the idea, she wasn't letting go.
The air in the barn is stifling. Sweat slicks him like a second skin, thick and heavy. He moves restlessly in the stall, knowing that it will not be long before his master returns.
The thick leather chaffs his neck, the collar tight enough that he has to be careful how he holds his head if he wants to keep breathing. The thick braid of leather that runs through the collar’s ring keeps him bound to the center post, not that he would attempt escape even if he were not tied. He has not attempted that since he was first brought here.
The punishment had been severe, and he still bore the marks on his thighs and back. It had not fully broken him, that came later, but it had pressed into him the knowledge that there was no escape.
He shifts on the dirt floor, drags hands clad in iron manacles and chain up from the ground to pull himself up. He has long forgotten his nakedness, it is but the way of his life here…to be naked and available to the service of the one who brought him.
He crawls to the trough of water, leans in to cup some of the liquid to his mouth. He starts a little at his reflection, the face so familiar to him…so like his and he pauses to listen, expecting to hear him, to be called to service.
When no sound comes to him he returns to the task of cupping water into his mouth. He hungers, but knows that before they will feed him they will feed themselves.
He has long since given up keeping the time…since he was brought here, since he last gave up his life's blood, since his will became a memory, distant and uncertain. There is only the time when he serves and the time when he lies in wait.
There are distant noises that speak of their return. He crawls back to the center pole, waits on his knees. He can smell the cheap whiskey before the door to his stall opens, but it is not his master who leers at him. It is the son, laughing and smelling of perfume and spilled alcohol.
"The old man is hungry and horny."
He looses the leash from the post and tugs, but Jeffrey goes willingly. There is no point of resistance…a lesson learned in stripes of blood and bruises. He follows on his hands and knees, crawling to where he waits.
"You know, this is disturbing on so many levels," the younger one says as he releases the leash and Jeffrey crawls the last bit to kneel before his master, awaiting his will.
He snorts and opens his jeans, pulling out his cock and nodding to Jeffrey to begin. Jeffrey kneels up, leaning in to lick around the head and down the sides. "Says the vampire who is keeping his mortal brother as a pet?" His hand takes hold of Jeffrey's hair, a sign he wants more than Jeffrey is giving him.
His cock hardens as Jeffrey takes it in his mouth, sucking in and moving his tongue along the bottom.
"I like the way he screams when I fuck him still."
"You are one sick fuck, Dean." His hand tightens and his cock fills Jeffrey's throat, and he holds him there until Jeffrey thinks he might pass out from lack of air. His vision swims before he is released, pushed away as his master stands.
"Just a chip off the old block, Dad."
He chuckles and kicks Jeffrey's thigh. "Up." Jeffrey crawls to the table, climbs up, not looking around. "Bring me the girl."
Jeffrey waits on the table, on his knees, waiting for instructions. "On your back."
He knows what to expect at least, and he lays down, sliding down until his ass is at the edge of the table. He bends his knees and spreads himself open, putting his feet on the edge of the table.
There is no prep, no lube, nothing but a big cock shoved inside of him. Jeffrey grips the table and closes his eyes. First he will be fucked, then fed on. When he woke again there would be food and he would be taken back to his stall…or to his master's bed, depending on his mood.
Dean brings a struggling girl toward them, stripped naked to her waist, though the miniskirt did little to cover much. His master pauses in his fucking to draw her closer, kissing her, biting down on her lip to draw blood. "Yes, a nice spice. Have her get him hard."
Dean guides her closer and pushes her face toward Jeffrey's dick. "Get him good and hard and maybe we won't kill you tonight." Dean growls at her and Jeffrey can feel her tears before he feels her tongue. He knows she will not see the morning sun, Dean's appetite is too great, and his control short lived. He is surprised the brother still lives.
Jeffrey's cock is difficult to convince, but she tries, even with Dean thrusting into her from behind. He is half hard when his master's come fills him and he pulls out. He grabs the girl from Dean and shoves her between Jeffrey's legs. "Lick it up."
Her tongue is tentative at his hole, licking up the come that spills from him and Jeffrey feels the heat of her blood before he sees what has been done. She is bleeding from the throat as she is tossed aside, her blood coating Jeffrey's cock and thighs.
His master grins down at him with his own face, licks his lips in anticipation. His hand moves through the blood and sweat, painting Jeffrey's skin with it before he leans in, licking with tiny movements over Jeffrey's thigh, up to the crease where it joins his hip, down…pulling Jeffrey open more. One hand holds Jeffrey's leg, the other circles his cock, stroking through the sticky mess…and it hurts more than maybe it should.
A sound escapes him, small and almost unnoticed. He hasn't heard his own voice in longer than he knows…it sounds tiny and insignificant and it is lost in the white roar inside him as teeth sink into flesh, the bite deep and hard, blood draining from him into his mouth. His thigh burns, from the place where the teeth pierce him and out, his cock screams as that hand continues to stroke him and as he is falling into the whiteness he vaguely realizes he is coming…
He wakes to the sounds of sex, finds himself still on the table, the girl nearly dead on the ground beside him, her body naked now, and Dean is fucking the younger brother into her, drinking from his shoulder as they fuck.
"That's it Sammy, fuck the little whore for me." Dean says, glancing up at Jeffrey with a bloody smile. Sam is getting close to passing out, Jeffrey can tell…and he isn't sure whether he'll come first or not. Then Sam shudders, and Dean rides him down. The smell of come fills the air and Dean gets up, chuckling as he strides away, his cock still hanging out.
"Here." He comes back with a pizza box and shoves it at Jeffrey. "He told me to feed you."
The box is cold and inside there is only an old piece of pizza, but Jeffrey takes it gratefully and eats it slowly. He's learned not to eat quickly, even when it has been days since his last food. It only leads to throwing up and punishment.
He is just finishing when John returns. "Clean up your mess," he growls at Dean before re-attaching Jeffrey's leash. "And lock up." He tugs and Jeffrey slides off the table, onto his knees, crawling behind him into the darkened corner that held his bed. "Floor."
Jeffrey curls up on the floor beside the bed as his leash is tied to the bedpost. It made it easy when his master woke later and wanted to feed. Or fuck. He closes his eyes and hopes for sleep. The days are long…and the nights…they belong to his master…
Title: His Master's Will
Characters/Pairings: John Winchester/Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Dean/Sam, Dean/OFC/JDM (sort of)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1357
Summary: Because my Brain is evil, she got this idea in her head of John Winchester as a vampire, keeping Jeff as his pet. Mostly this is just to get this out of my head. Also for the porn.
A/Ns & Warnings: I lay the blame for this firmly on badfalcon's shoulders. She started it and once my Brain got a hold of the idea, she wasn't letting go.
The air in the barn is stifling. Sweat slicks him like a second skin, thick and heavy. He moves restlessly in the stall, knowing that it will not be long before his master returns.
The thick leather chaffs his neck, the collar tight enough that he has to be careful how he holds his head if he wants to keep breathing. The thick braid of leather that runs through the collar’s ring keeps him bound to the center post, not that he would attempt escape even if he were not tied. He has not attempted that since he was first brought here.
The punishment had been severe, and he still bore the marks on his thighs and back. It had not fully broken him, that came later, but it had pressed into him the knowledge that there was no escape.
He shifts on the dirt floor, drags hands clad in iron manacles and chain up from the ground to pull himself up. He has long forgotten his nakedness, it is but the way of his life here…to be naked and available to the service of the one who brought him.
He crawls to the trough of water, leans in to cup some of the liquid to his mouth. He starts a little at his reflection, the face so familiar to him…so like his and he pauses to listen, expecting to hear him, to be called to service.
When no sound comes to him he returns to the task of cupping water into his mouth. He hungers, but knows that before they will feed him they will feed themselves.
He has long since given up keeping the time…since he was brought here, since he last gave up his life's blood, since his will became a memory, distant and uncertain. There is only the time when he serves and the time when he lies in wait.
There are distant noises that speak of their return. He crawls back to the center pole, waits on his knees. He can smell the cheap whiskey before the door to his stall opens, but it is not his master who leers at him. It is the son, laughing and smelling of perfume and spilled alcohol.
"The old man is hungry and horny."
He looses the leash from the post and tugs, but Jeffrey goes willingly. There is no point of resistance…a lesson learned in stripes of blood and bruises. He follows on his hands and knees, crawling to where he waits.
"You know, this is disturbing on so many levels," the younger one says as he releases the leash and Jeffrey crawls the last bit to kneel before his master, awaiting his will.
He snorts and opens his jeans, pulling out his cock and nodding to Jeffrey to begin. Jeffrey kneels up, leaning in to lick around the head and down the sides. "Says the vampire who is keeping his mortal brother as a pet?" His hand takes hold of Jeffrey's hair, a sign he wants more than Jeffrey is giving him.
His cock hardens as Jeffrey takes it in his mouth, sucking in and moving his tongue along the bottom.
"I like the way he screams when I fuck him still."
"You are one sick fuck, Dean." His hand tightens and his cock fills Jeffrey's throat, and he holds him there until Jeffrey thinks he might pass out from lack of air. His vision swims before he is released, pushed away as his master stands.
"Just a chip off the old block, Dad."
He chuckles and kicks Jeffrey's thigh. "Up." Jeffrey crawls to the table, climbs up, not looking around. "Bring me the girl."
Jeffrey waits on the table, on his knees, waiting for instructions. "On your back."
He knows what to expect at least, and he lays down, sliding down until his ass is at the edge of the table. He bends his knees and spreads himself open, putting his feet on the edge of the table.
There is no prep, no lube, nothing but a big cock shoved inside of him. Jeffrey grips the table and closes his eyes. First he will be fucked, then fed on. When he woke again there would be food and he would be taken back to his stall…or to his master's bed, depending on his mood.
Dean brings a struggling girl toward them, stripped naked to her waist, though the miniskirt did little to cover much. His master pauses in his fucking to draw her closer, kissing her, biting down on her lip to draw blood. "Yes, a nice spice. Have her get him hard."
Dean guides her closer and pushes her face toward Jeffrey's dick. "Get him good and hard and maybe we won't kill you tonight." Dean growls at her and Jeffrey can feel her tears before he feels her tongue. He knows she will not see the morning sun, Dean's appetite is too great, and his control short lived. He is surprised the brother still lives.
Jeffrey's cock is difficult to convince, but she tries, even with Dean thrusting into her from behind. He is half hard when his master's come fills him and he pulls out. He grabs the girl from Dean and shoves her between Jeffrey's legs. "Lick it up."
Her tongue is tentative at his hole, licking up the come that spills from him and Jeffrey feels the heat of her blood before he sees what has been done. She is bleeding from the throat as she is tossed aside, her blood coating Jeffrey's cock and thighs.
His master grins down at him with his own face, licks his lips in anticipation. His hand moves through the blood and sweat, painting Jeffrey's skin with it before he leans in, licking with tiny movements over Jeffrey's thigh, up to the crease where it joins his hip, down…pulling Jeffrey open more. One hand holds Jeffrey's leg, the other circles his cock, stroking through the sticky mess…and it hurts more than maybe it should.
A sound escapes him, small and almost unnoticed. He hasn't heard his own voice in longer than he knows…it sounds tiny and insignificant and it is lost in the white roar inside him as teeth sink into flesh, the bite deep and hard, blood draining from him into his mouth. His thigh burns, from the place where the teeth pierce him and out, his cock screams as that hand continues to stroke him and as he is falling into the whiteness he vaguely realizes he is coming…
He wakes to the sounds of sex, finds himself still on the table, the girl nearly dead on the ground beside him, her body naked now, and Dean is fucking the younger brother into her, drinking from his shoulder as they fuck.
"That's it Sammy, fuck the little whore for me." Dean says, glancing up at Jeffrey with a bloody smile. Sam is getting close to passing out, Jeffrey can tell…and he isn't sure whether he'll come first or not. Then Sam shudders, and Dean rides him down. The smell of come fills the air and Dean gets up, chuckling as he strides away, his cock still hanging out.
"Here." He comes back with a pizza box and shoves it at Jeffrey. "He told me to feed you."
The box is cold and inside there is only an old piece of pizza, but Jeffrey takes it gratefully and eats it slowly. He's learned not to eat quickly, even when it has been days since his last food. It only leads to throwing up and punishment.
He is just finishing when John returns. "Clean up your mess," he growls at Dean before re-attaching Jeffrey's leash. "And lock up." He tugs and Jeffrey slides off the table, onto his knees, crawling behind him into the darkened corner that held his bed. "Floor."
Jeffrey curls up on the floor beside the bed as his leash is tied to the bedpost. It made it easy when his master woke later and wanted to feed. Or fuck. He closes his eyes and hopes for sleep. The days are long…and the nights…they belong to his master…