Painted in Shades of You, Supernatural, NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Painted in Shades of You
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A follow on to of sorts to the "Points" ( Which Begins Here)and "Pieces" ( Which Begins Here Verse...comes after Paint the Sky and Paint Him Red...Dean forgets himself...or Sam assumes he has, and decides to teach him his place.
Warnings/Author's Notes: Dark stuff...punishment (caning), very violent death (disturbing...very disturbing...)
It isn’t running exactly, this thing they are doing. They stay a step ahead of the hunters and two or three in front of the law, but not because they’re trying. It isn’t exactly hunting either…though they are looking for something…or at least that is what Sam says to him whenever they paused to mutilate someone.
Dean doesn’t argue, doesn’t protest…it’s pointless and he really finds he cares less and less anyway. He isn’t there for any purpose, any hunt…he is there because he wants Sam. It stopped hurting that Sam could go on without him…would go on without him…most of the time anyway…one day Dean would be nothing more than a burden and Sam would let him go…leave him behind for the hunters or the cops, one more broken body in the trail that only Sam understood.
Sam is asleep, or pretending very well. Dean sits beside him in the large bed in the Penthouse of some hotel in Vegas, his body bruised and aching from Sam’s idea of foreplay earlier. He’d joked once about Vegas. He remembers the sour look Sam had given him at the time.
The whore on the other side of Sam stirs, her dark hair knotting in the hand Sam still has on her head. She was pretty enough, and Dean has to admit, talented with her tongue, but Sam only forced her on Dean because he knew Dean wanted nothing to do with her…that Dean could be content with only Sam for the rest of his days.
Though yes, he had told Sam he wanted him to share…it had more to do with that one boy than the fucking and raping in general. He was young, maybe seventeen and he looked like Sam…with the hair in his green eyes and the way his eyes went wide when Sam whispered filthy words in his ears. He was the innocent, sweet thing Sam had been once.
Dean glances down at Sam and shakes his head. Not that he loves him less…but the taste of that innocence…Dean only got second hand, after Sam made him come over and over and had Dean lick it up off the floor. The need to relieve himself is strong enough now to bring him to swing his feet to the floor, moving carefully and slow. His ass still gapes open from the toy Sam used first on the whore and then on Dean…bigger than anything Dean has ever seen. He had bled, he was certain it would be a while before he was comfortable again.
He didn’t bother to cover himself. Sam would only wake and tell him to get naked again anyway. No, but he could ease the pain a little. Sam wouldn’t begrudge him that, not while he had a plaything to abuse in the meantime. Dean started water running in the huge sunken tub and went to pee. When he came back he sank into the steaming water, wincing as it scalded tender tissue and healing wounds.
He let himself float, feeling the water move inside him, softer than Sam would ever be with him again. They’d been in Vegas for three days…longer than anywhere since this started…and that made Dean anxious. Sam said they had another few days…Sam…
Dean closes his eyes and lets the water sooth him, let it lull him. He doesn’t panic when he feels the hand on his neck…when he feels himself subdued and pushed under. He opens his eyes and looks at Sam and waits.
He thinks maybe this is it…Sam is done with him and this is how it will end. His vision starts to swim and Sam tilts his head, as if watching something interesting unfold. Finally, he releases Dean and lets him surface. Dean drags air into his lungs and waits.
“You weren’t there when I woke.” Sam says.
“I seldom am.” Dean replies. He is always the first one awake…or the one who didn’t sleep at all.
“You weren’t where I could see you.”
Dean chuckles. “Afraid I’d run away?”
Sam doesn’t laugh, his eyes cold. “Don’t do it again.”
Dean reaches for him, to sooth whatever it is he’s hurt, but Sam pulls away. “Sam, I-“
“Shut up.”
“I’m not leaving Sam.”
Sam turns and looks at him, his eyes dark. “I said shut up Dean. You seem to have forgotten what you are here…Maybe I should remind you.”
Dean swallows and sits up. He wants to say something, anything to placate him, but Sam said shut up. Dean lowers his eyes and waits.
“Get out, get dry and get into the other room. On your fucking knees.”
Sam is gone before Dean can start to move to comply. By the time he’s back in the main room the whore is gone and he shivers. Sam’s back is to him and he isn’t sure exactly where Sam wants him so he chooses as though he were Sam….kneeling in front of the floor length windows…they’re high enough up that no one will see him, unless they too are looking out Penthouse windows at three in the morning…but it gives the illusion of being on display.
The thought makes him hard and he wills it away, because he knows Sam will see…and the punishment that is coming will be that much harder for it. He feels Sam, long before he moves, the fingers of his power slipping around his neck like a collar, gripping, squeezing…It’s a fight to hold himself still…to not gasp madly for air…to trust…because if Sam wanted him dead, he would never have escaped the tub.
Just as he starts to black out it eases up and Sam is behind him physically as well as mentally. Dean feels something against his back, recognizing it instantly. Sam had no need of weapons…he just liked them sometimes, and this had become his favorite when he wanted to teach Dean something.
Sam tapped the cane lightly between them, it brushed Dean’s skin and he flinched involuntarily. “I am very angry right now Dean.” Sam says unnecessarily. His anger swirls around his feet, slides over Dean’s skin. “You have forgotten how easily I can destroy you.” Sam circles around in front of Dean and lifts his chin. “Love holds you to me, Dean…but it doesn’t hold me to you. Your obedience does. Do you understand?”
Dean’s eyes closed and he nods, remembering not to speak, because Sam hasn’t told him he could. “I broke you. I tore apart everything you were, Dean…I left you a broken husk of nothing. I beat you. I raped your mouth. I raped your ass. I cut you into pieces. I made you scream for me.”
He lets go of Dean’s chin and moves again, to the side, testing the cane against his thigh. “And you crawled back to me…You gave me everything you had left…” He brought the cane down with a vicious blow across the top of Dean’s ass and Dean lurched forward, then very deliberately settled back. “You knelt down…” A second blow and Dean catches himself before moving too far forward. “And fucking gave yourself…” A third, this time a little higher, and Dean couldn’t keep the sound from escaping his lips, “…to me…” A fourth, alongside the third. Dean falls forward, catching himself on his arms.
Before he can push himself up, Sam slides the cane down between his ass cheeks. “Stay.”
Dean swallows He knows what will follow, knows that in this position Sam can manage to hit far more than just his ass and back. He starts a little as the cane pushes inside his sore hole and Sam chuckles. “Gonna be a while before that tightens up enough to fuck, isn’t it?”
Sam steps away and Dean tries not anticipate the next blow. It comes hard and swift, low on his ass, biting into his left thigh. “You fucking belong to me Dean.” The next blow lands a little higher and Dean has to bite his lip to keep from crying out. “You speak when I tell you to. You fuck what I tell you to. You kill who I tell you to.” Every sentence is punctuated by a blow, until Dean is certain Sam is drawing blood. “You are nothing but my whore, Dean. Nothing.”
Sam is in front of him again and it takes everything Dean has not to let the tears out…because he is…completely given to Sam…but it hurts…still fucking hurts to know Sam has nothing to give him but this in return. Sam’s thumb pushes into Dean’s mouth and Dean can see he’s hard. Sam notices his eyes and laughs.
“You want this, big Brother?” Sam cups himself with his free hand and Dean’s eyes glaze over…because yes,…even now he does…he wants to feel Sam’s hands…to taste him…anything and everything… “Sit up.”
Dean eases back, eyes watering as the new welts on his thighs press against the skin of his calves. Sam strokes his thumb in and out of Dean’s mouth, then pulls it out and just walks away. Time slows and Dean doesn’t move, his breathing shallow as the heat and pain of his beating radiates into him.
When he next hears Sam he’s talking to someone. A man. He cajoles him, whispers to him. There’s the sound of zippers and clothes falling. Kissing. Dean lets his eyes close, wills himself not to react. “Dean.”
Dean opens his eyes instantly, no thought of disobeying and he’s greeted by the sight of Sam naked, his cock already in the boy’s mouth. He’s a street whore by the look…maybe sixteen, with smeared eyeliner and green streaks in his hair, and he knows his way around a cock.
“You can’t have this Dean. I’m giving it to him. And when I’m done with him you’re going to suck him off.”
Dean wants to look away as the boy sucks his brother into him and Sam grabs his dirty hair and takes over, fucking into him until his eyes widen and he’s obviously having trouble breathing and damn if Dean wasn’t ready to come at the word.
Sam empties himself into the boy’s mouth, and pulls him up off the floor by his hair. His cock is only half hard as Sam turns him. “Open your mouth fucking slut. I want to watch you make him come.”
Dean’s heart is pounding, but he does as he’s told, opening his mouth and closing his eyes. It only takes a minute for his tongue to bring the boy to hardness and a minute later Sam was behind him, encouraging him. “That’s it…fuck his pretty mouth…” Sam squats, his hand reaching through the boy’s legs to stroke Dean’s cock. “This is mine, Dean. You don’t come until I tell you. You don’t come tonight until you get him off and kill him.”
The kid stiffens and Dean has to work to keep him moving toward orgasm. “Show me his come, Dean…Want to see it on your tongue.”
Dean swirls his tongue over the kid’s slit, then sucks him all the way in before sliding up and down over him…He was stalling, the kid’s enthusiasm dampened by the threat…not that he blames him…Dean massages his balls, lightly at first, then squeezing and the kid bucks up, shooting rapidly before pulling away, only to fall against Sam.
Dean opens his mouth to display the come on his tongue and Sam smiles. “Now Dean.”
There are no weapons to hand and Dean hasn’t been given permission to move, so he does the only thing he can, pulls the boy to him by grabbing his cock. He doesn’t look up as he slips his mouth back over him, taking the soft dick all the way to the base. He closes his eyes as he bites down, through the soft flesh and pulls back, coming away with blood covering his face and raining down on him with the boy’s dick in his mouth.
Sam catches him, holds him while he bleeds. “Now Dean I want you to jack off for me…Nice and slow.”
There’s blood covering his cock, but it’s still rock hard and it wants Sam…wants to please him…It doesn’t take long and as his come mixes with the blood on the floor under him, Dean spits the flesh from his mouth. The boy is still spasming against Sam, but not that the punishment is over, Sam could care less about the boy, dropping him alongside the window and walking back toward the bed.
“Now, go take a shower and get your ass back to bed. We’re leaving in the morning.”
It isn’t really running, this thing they are doing. Once the blood’s been shed, Sam gets bored and they moved on. Sometimes it is as simple as that. Dean washes the blood from his skin, watches it swirl down the drain. Sam likes him covered in red…painted up just for him…Dean’s gotten accustomed to the feeling, the heat…the rush of blood over his face, over his tongue. It feels like…like Sam seeping into his skin.
Title: Painted in Shades of You
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A follow on to of sorts to the "Points" ( Which Begins Here)and "Pieces" ( Which Begins Here Verse...comes after Paint the Sky and Paint Him Red...Dean forgets himself...or Sam assumes he has, and decides to teach him his place.
Warnings/Author's Notes: Dark stuff...punishment (caning), very violent death (disturbing...very disturbing...)
It isn’t running exactly, this thing they are doing. They stay a step ahead of the hunters and two or three in front of the law, but not because they’re trying. It isn’t exactly hunting either…though they are looking for something…or at least that is what Sam says to him whenever they paused to mutilate someone.
Dean doesn’t argue, doesn’t protest…it’s pointless and he really finds he cares less and less anyway. He isn’t there for any purpose, any hunt…he is there because he wants Sam. It stopped hurting that Sam could go on without him…would go on without him…most of the time anyway…one day Dean would be nothing more than a burden and Sam would let him go…leave him behind for the hunters or the cops, one more broken body in the trail that only Sam understood.
Sam is asleep, or pretending very well. Dean sits beside him in the large bed in the Penthouse of some hotel in Vegas, his body bruised and aching from Sam’s idea of foreplay earlier. He’d joked once about Vegas. He remembers the sour look Sam had given him at the time.
The whore on the other side of Sam stirs, her dark hair knotting in the hand Sam still has on her head. She was pretty enough, and Dean has to admit, talented with her tongue, but Sam only forced her on Dean because he knew Dean wanted nothing to do with her…that Dean could be content with only Sam for the rest of his days.
Though yes, he had told Sam he wanted him to share…it had more to do with that one boy than the fucking and raping in general. He was young, maybe seventeen and he looked like Sam…with the hair in his green eyes and the way his eyes went wide when Sam whispered filthy words in his ears. He was the innocent, sweet thing Sam had been once.
Dean glances down at Sam and shakes his head. Not that he loves him less…but the taste of that innocence…Dean only got second hand, after Sam made him come over and over and had Dean lick it up off the floor. The need to relieve himself is strong enough now to bring him to swing his feet to the floor, moving carefully and slow. His ass still gapes open from the toy Sam used first on the whore and then on Dean…bigger than anything Dean has ever seen. He had bled, he was certain it would be a while before he was comfortable again.
He didn’t bother to cover himself. Sam would only wake and tell him to get naked again anyway. No, but he could ease the pain a little. Sam wouldn’t begrudge him that, not while he had a plaything to abuse in the meantime. Dean started water running in the huge sunken tub and went to pee. When he came back he sank into the steaming water, wincing as it scalded tender tissue and healing wounds.
He let himself float, feeling the water move inside him, softer than Sam would ever be with him again. They’d been in Vegas for three days…longer than anywhere since this started…and that made Dean anxious. Sam said they had another few days…Sam…
Dean closes his eyes and lets the water sooth him, let it lull him. He doesn’t panic when he feels the hand on his neck…when he feels himself subdued and pushed under. He opens his eyes and looks at Sam and waits.
He thinks maybe this is it…Sam is done with him and this is how it will end. His vision starts to swim and Sam tilts his head, as if watching something interesting unfold. Finally, he releases Dean and lets him surface. Dean drags air into his lungs and waits.
“You weren’t there when I woke.” Sam says.
“I seldom am.” Dean replies. He is always the first one awake…or the one who didn’t sleep at all.
“You weren’t where I could see you.”
Dean chuckles. “Afraid I’d run away?”
Sam doesn’t laugh, his eyes cold. “Don’t do it again.”
Dean reaches for him, to sooth whatever it is he’s hurt, but Sam pulls away. “Sam, I-“
“Shut up.”
“I’m not leaving Sam.”
Sam turns and looks at him, his eyes dark. “I said shut up Dean. You seem to have forgotten what you are here…Maybe I should remind you.”
Dean swallows and sits up. He wants to say something, anything to placate him, but Sam said shut up. Dean lowers his eyes and waits.
“Get out, get dry and get into the other room. On your fucking knees.”
Sam is gone before Dean can start to move to comply. By the time he’s back in the main room the whore is gone and he shivers. Sam’s back is to him and he isn’t sure exactly where Sam wants him so he chooses as though he were Sam….kneeling in front of the floor length windows…they’re high enough up that no one will see him, unless they too are looking out Penthouse windows at three in the morning…but it gives the illusion of being on display.
The thought makes him hard and he wills it away, because he knows Sam will see…and the punishment that is coming will be that much harder for it. He feels Sam, long before he moves, the fingers of his power slipping around his neck like a collar, gripping, squeezing…It’s a fight to hold himself still…to not gasp madly for air…to trust…because if Sam wanted him dead, he would never have escaped the tub.
Just as he starts to black out it eases up and Sam is behind him physically as well as mentally. Dean feels something against his back, recognizing it instantly. Sam had no need of weapons…he just liked them sometimes, and this had become his favorite when he wanted to teach Dean something.
Sam tapped the cane lightly between them, it brushed Dean’s skin and he flinched involuntarily. “I am very angry right now Dean.” Sam says unnecessarily. His anger swirls around his feet, slides over Dean’s skin. “You have forgotten how easily I can destroy you.” Sam circles around in front of Dean and lifts his chin. “Love holds you to me, Dean…but it doesn’t hold me to you. Your obedience does. Do you understand?”
Dean’s eyes closed and he nods, remembering not to speak, because Sam hasn’t told him he could. “I broke you. I tore apart everything you were, Dean…I left you a broken husk of nothing. I beat you. I raped your mouth. I raped your ass. I cut you into pieces. I made you scream for me.”
He lets go of Dean’s chin and moves again, to the side, testing the cane against his thigh. “And you crawled back to me…You gave me everything you had left…” He brought the cane down with a vicious blow across the top of Dean’s ass and Dean lurched forward, then very deliberately settled back. “You knelt down…” A second blow and Dean catches himself before moving too far forward. “And fucking gave yourself…” A third, this time a little higher, and Dean couldn’t keep the sound from escaping his lips, “…to me…” A fourth, alongside the third. Dean falls forward, catching himself on his arms.
Before he can push himself up, Sam slides the cane down between his ass cheeks. “Stay.”
Dean swallows He knows what will follow, knows that in this position Sam can manage to hit far more than just his ass and back. He starts a little as the cane pushes inside his sore hole and Sam chuckles. “Gonna be a while before that tightens up enough to fuck, isn’t it?”
Sam steps away and Dean tries not anticipate the next blow. It comes hard and swift, low on his ass, biting into his left thigh. “You fucking belong to me Dean.” The next blow lands a little higher and Dean has to bite his lip to keep from crying out. “You speak when I tell you to. You fuck what I tell you to. You kill who I tell you to.” Every sentence is punctuated by a blow, until Dean is certain Sam is drawing blood. “You are nothing but my whore, Dean. Nothing.”
Sam is in front of him again and it takes everything Dean has not to let the tears out…because he is…completely given to Sam…but it hurts…still fucking hurts to know Sam has nothing to give him but this in return. Sam’s thumb pushes into Dean’s mouth and Dean can see he’s hard. Sam notices his eyes and laughs.
“You want this, big Brother?” Sam cups himself with his free hand and Dean’s eyes glaze over…because yes,…even now he does…he wants to feel Sam’s hands…to taste him…anything and everything… “Sit up.”
Dean eases back, eyes watering as the new welts on his thighs press against the skin of his calves. Sam strokes his thumb in and out of Dean’s mouth, then pulls it out and just walks away. Time slows and Dean doesn’t move, his breathing shallow as the heat and pain of his beating radiates into him.
When he next hears Sam he’s talking to someone. A man. He cajoles him, whispers to him. There’s the sound of zippers and clothes falling. Kissing. Dean lets his eyes close, wills himself not to react. “Dean.”
Dean opens his eyes instantly, no thought of disobeying and he’s greeted by the sight of Sam naked, his cock already in the boy’s mouth. He’s a street whore by the look…maybe sixteen, with smeared eyeliner and green streaks in his hair, and he knows his way around a cock.
“You can’t have this Dean. I’m giving it to him. And when I’m done with him you’re going to suck him off.”
Dean wants to look away as the boy sucks his brother into him and Sam grabs his dirty hair and takes over, fucking into him until his eyes widen and he’s obviously having trouble breathing and damn if Dean wasn’t ready to come at the word.
Sam empties himself into the boy’s mouth, and pulls him up off the floor by his hair. His cock is only half hard as Sam turns him. “Open your mouth fucking slut. I want to watch you make him come.”
Dean’s heart is pounding, but he does as he’s told, opening his mouth and closing his eyes. It only takes a minute for his tongue to bring the boy to hardness and a minute later Sam was behind him, encouraging him. “That’s it…fuck his pretty mouth…” Sam squats, his hand reaching through the boy’s legs to stroke Dean’s cock. “This is mine, Dean. You don’t come until I tell you. You don’t come tonight until you get him off and kill him.”
The kid stiffens and Dean has to work to keep him moving toward orgasm. “Show me his come, Dean…Want to see it on your tongue.”
Dean swirls his tongue over the kid’s slit, then sucks him all the way in before sliding up and down over him…He was stalling, the kid’s enthusiasm dampened by the threat…not that he blames him…Dean massages his balls, lightly at first, then squeezing and the kid bucks up, shooting rapidly before pulling away, only to fall against Sam.
Dean opens his mouth to display the come on his tongue and Sam smiles. “Now Dean.”
There are no weapons to hand and Dean hasn’t been given permission to move, so he does the only thing he can, pulls the boy to him by grabbing his cock. He doesn’t look up as he slips his mouth back over him, taking the soft dick all the way to the base. He closes his eyes as he bites down, through the soft flesh and pulls back, coming away with blood covering his face and raining down on him with the boy’s dick in his mouth.
Sam catches him, holds him while he bleeds. “Now Dean I want you to jack off for me…Nice and slow.”
There’s blood covering his cock, but it’s still rock hard and it wants Sam…wants to please him…It doesn’t take long and as his come mixes with the blood on the floor under him, Dean spits the flesh from his mouth. The boy is still spasming against Sam, but not that the punishment is over, Sam could care less about the boy, dropping him alongside the window and walking back toward the bed.
“Now, go take a shower and get your ass back to bed. We’re leaving in the morning.”
It isn’t really running, this thing they are doing. Once the blood’s been shed, Sam gets bored and they moved on. Sometimes it is as simple as that. Dean washes the blood from his skin, watches it swirl down the drain. Sam likes him covered in red…painted up just for him…Dean’s gotten accustomed to the feeling, the heat…the rush of blood over his face, over his tongue. It feels like…like Sam seeping into his skin.