Fic: No Holds Barred, Jeff-Jensen, AU, NC-17
Title: No Holds Barred
Author: dastiel_gal
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU, PWP
Pairing: Jeff/Jensen
Warnings Enticements: Dubcon, enslavement.
Word Count: 2,280.
Summary: Under space law, a ship is sovereign territory, and a captain can do what he likes with a stowaway. Put him to work, brig him, enslave him. Jensen may have had his reasons for stowing away, but this time he's jumped out of the frying pan, and into the fire.
Disclaimer: I don't own Jeffrey Dean Morgan or Jensen Ackles, more's the pity, this is all scurrilous lies, and I am not making money from this.
Author’s Notes: Written for blindfold_spn #5. The original prompt was Dubcon slavefic - Jensen hates his life on this miserable backwater planet. When Morgan's ship lands for a trading visit, Jensen figures it may be his one chance to get out and see the universe. Stowing away on board the spaceship was easy. Facing up to Captain Morgan after he's caught, not so much. But Jensen will do anything to keep from being sent home and Morgan's always been a sucker for a pretty face.. Crossposted to jeff_jensen, jdm_rpf and spn_rps, because I'm an attention whore.
Download from AO3.
--oo00oo--
Jeff leans back in his chair, feet kicked up on the desk, and studies the scared youngster in front of him. Dammit, he's got enough on his plate dodging the authorities on this shady fucking run. He really doesn't need the added complication of a stowaway right now. He scowls at the kid for the mean pleasure of seeing him flinch.
Tall and well-built; would be useful on the cargo deck on a standard run. But the stuff that's down there just now... well, Jeff doesn't want anyone but trusted crew seeing it, and that's a fact.
"We could just space him, Cap."
Stars, Elba's a nasty fucker sometimes; that solution wouldn't even have occurred to Jeff. The kid panics at that; who wouldn't? Starts babbling, begging for his life, wide-eyed and plump bottom lip trembling, and ain't that pretty.
"You know space law, lad? A ship is sovereign territory. A captain can do what he likes with a stowaway. Put him to work, brig him, enslave him. Kill him, although I'm not gonna do that. What the hell were you thinking? I know Randall's is a backwater, but was it really that bad?"
The reminder of where he's come from puts a look of hopeless terror in the kid's eyes that even the threat of death hadn't. "Please, please don't send me back," he begs. "I'll work hard, I can follow orders." He licks his lips nervously, which gives Jeff's little brain a jolt. "I'll do anything you want."
Jeff just had a much better idea than cargo-bay. He's only human, after all. "Anything?" he drawls suggestively.
The kid freezes as the implications of that sink in. But then his shoulders straighten, he takes a deep breath and slides to his knees with a grace that takes Jeff's breath away, and his blood downward.
"Anything you command, Captain."
Oh, fucking hellfire. Jeff knows what the kid's running from, he saw No Holds Barred on the list of ships in long-term port for repairs back at Randall's. The most notorious brothel ship in the entire sector, any kink catered to so long as money's no object. The boys had dragged Jeff on there once when he was working for Prentiss; even young and stupid as he was back then, he'd barely been able to get it up for the dead-eyed broken slave that was all he could afford. This kid was probably on the upper decks, gorgeous as he is. Silk sheets, and really sick kinks. Poor little bastard.
Not broken yet, though, if he's run - and now he's all Jeff's. Gotta love space law.
"Okay, son. I'm Jeff Morgan, captain of the Petit Bisou, and as of this moment you are my personal body slave. Nobody else on the crew will touch you without my permission - are you clear on that, Elba? - You will go where I go, do what I say, and serve me in any way I desire. If I don't want you with me, you will be confined to your cabin under lock. Any misbehaviour will be punished. I'm your master, and you are mine. Welcome to your new life."
There's a gulp and a pause before his captive answers. "Yes, sir."
"What's your name?"
"Jensen, sir."
Elba's open-mouthed and nonplussed at the way this is working out. He was probably looking forward to having a prisoner to push around. Jeff bites back a smirk.
"Thanks for bringing him up, Idris. You can get back to your duties now."
Elba scowls and stomps out, and Jeff take a nice long survey of his new property. He's pleased when Jensen stays still and quiet, awaiting instructions, and submits obediently to Jeff touching his face, turning his face this way and that, running his fingers through his hair.
He orders the lad to stand and remove his shirt and pants, and damn near passes out from blind lust when he turns out to be beautifully built, covered in freckles, and wearing a rich, gold-embroidered, green silk loincloth underneath. Freaking fuck, he looks good enough to eat, and Jeff's self-control is slipping fast. He reaches for the boy, who steps into the circle of his arms with alacrity and tips his face up to be kissed.
"Hey, wait," says Jeff, turned on but unconvinced by the boy's seemingly instant submission. "You don't have to lie to me, okay. This is gonna happen, and you're gonna do as you're told, but you don't have to pretend to like it. Or me."
There's a conflicted look on Jensen's face as he considers this disbelievingly, then apparently decides that the freedom to show his true feelings is worth more than the risk of punishment if Jeff's playing with him. He stiffens in Jeff's arms and glares at him.
"That's more like it. On your knees, boy, let's see what they taught you on No Holds Barred."
Jensen jerks at that, like it hadn't occurred to him that Jeff would put two and two together, even with the silk loincloth. He slides reluctantly to his knees and opens Jeff's pants.
Jeff leans back against the desk and sighs in anticipation as Jensen extracts his hard cock with sullen efficiency and strokes it expertly, grip just right, sliding a thumb across the head on the upstroke. And strokes. And strokes.
"Come on, stop stalling," snaps Jeff, and grabs a handful of Jensen's hair to pull his head forward. "You know what I want."
Jeff rubs his cock all over his face, smearing precome over his cheek. Jensen makes a sound of disgust, sneers up at Jeff and refuses to open his mouth for it. Before he knows what he's doing, Jeff has slapped his face, hard. "This is going to happen, Jensen. Your decision to stow away, now you take the consequences."
The look Jeff gets is pure fury, but Jensen does open up to take him in, licks and sucks and bobs his head up and down like a fucking vidporn star. Hell, he's amazing, and if Jeff closed his eyes he could imagine he was with a willing lover -- but he's just discovering that he has a sick little kink for coercion, and the flickers of disgust and sulky resignation that cross Jensen's face are sending tendrils of heat through his groin. Not to mention the flaming red impression of Jeff's hand across his cheek, nggghhh.
He lets Jensen suck him until he's nearly there, then pulls him off by the hair, cock twitching hard at Jensen's wince of pain. Fuck, he never realized he could like this. There are all sorts of wild ideas running around Jeff's brain, things he's never even considered doing before, much less thought he might enjoy if he did.
He swings Jensen around and shoves him face-down across the desk. "Stay there," he growls, and starts rifling through his office cupboard for something, anything he could use for slick. "Freaking hell, at this rate I'm gonna be fucking you dry."
"No gorram way, you fucking dick." Apparently he's reached Jensen's limit, but when Jeff turns around and sees the absolute outrage on Jensen's face, he can't bite back a guffaw. He's all the way into top-space and Jensen just looks like an angry kitten. Adorable, and no threat whatsoever.
Jensen fumbles in a tiny pouch attached to the side of his loincloth, face scarlet with humiliation and fury, and flings a sachet of lube at Jeff. That makes Jeff laugh even harder, and Jensen flings himself after it, fist flailing out. Jeff's been in a million bar brawls, and he's stone cold sober just now, so the kid stands no chance of connecting. Jeff tussles him to the floor and kneels astride him, snagging the sachet as they go down. Jensen struggles but he's got no leverage and no experience, and Jeff wrestles the loincloth down over his spectacular arse with zero trouble, kicks his legs open and traps them between his shins and feet. He braces his weight on a hand between Jensen's shoulderblades, and the kid's going nowhere. Jensen seems to know it and subsides into annoyed wriggles, snarling and muttering obscenities.
Jeff manages to get his jeans pushed down out of the way and lube up his cock one-handed, then dips his slick fingers between Jensen's cheeks. The kid protests and squirms, but the gasp he gives when Jeff finds his hole isn't entirely unhappy, and when Jeff presses a fingertip in, hell, that's definitely the good kind of moan.
"You like that, baby?" mocks Jeff.
"Fuck off," snarls Jensen, but he isn't even trying to get away from Jeff's hand any more. Jeff grins smugly, and sets about working Jensen open on his fingers, taking his time; smooth, steady rhythm, twisting as he goes, adding fingers in quick succession as Jensen stretches. Jeff's a master at this. He's made every boy he's ever fucked come on just his fingers at least once, it's his gorram trademark, but not today. Today he needs to get his cock into that beautiful pink hole. Jensen's making these delightful bitten-off moans, like doesn't want to give Jeff the satisfaction but can't help himself. He hardly takes any opening up at all - has obviously been in regular use on his previous ship, and Jeff's both turned on by the thought of Jensen being fucked by a succession of men, and filled with the filthy, possessive need to wash the memory of them out of his body on a tidal wave of Jeff's come.
"Freaking hell, kid, what the fuck are you doing to me?" he groans, and his voice sounds wrecked even to him. There's no answer from Jensen but a moan, and the kid's hips jerk backwards to impale himself even further on Jeff's fingers.
Jeff can't wait any longer, and it's not like Jensen's not loose enough. He pulls his fingers out, lines his cock up and shoves in, forceful but smooth, all the way in in one long unstoppable push. Jensen shudders and keens, a needy wail that does nothing for Jeff's sanity, and he starts moving straight away, giving him no time for adjustment. That doesn't seem to be a problem though, Jensen's hips circling, pushing back into Jeff's thrusts, matching his speed and angle faultlessly as if they'd been screwing each other for months.
It's fucking wonderful, is what it is. Every nerve in Jeff's body is on fire, and he feels like he could spontaneously combust. Nobody's ever accused Captain Jeff Morgan of lack of staying power, though, and he's enjoying this way too much to want it over quickly. He ploughs into Jensen's lusciously rounded backside at a steady, metronomic pace that he can keep up indefinitely.
Jensen is apparently more used to guys who ride him fast and shoot pretty quick; after a good few minutes of this, his moans take on a frustrated tone and he starts undulating his body invitingly, trying to entice Jeff into something faster, harder. Jeff has no intention of cutting his fun short, though. He shifts back a little onto his knees, hands tight on Jensen's hips to hold him still, and resumes the same steady rhythm. Jensen whines in protest, starts muttering complaints and insults under his breath.
Jeff knows what he's doing, though, knows how this rhythm works, slow and easy and it feels like it'll never be quite enough - but the whole time it's sensitizing your body, a slow smouldering heat that builds into a raging inferno that consumes you whole. He doubts anyone at the brothel ever had the patience for this, the skill or the stamina. He's gonna take Jensen apart from the inside out before he takes his own pleasure.
Jensen isn't gonna go down quietly, though. He's wriggling against Jeff's hold, huffing in frustration. "What the fuck are you waiting for, Morgan? Fuck me if you're going to!"
Jeff laughs and keeps going, changes the angle until he's sliding in just shy of Jensen's prostate, a constant light stimulation rather than the kind of direct pressure that makes a guy see stars. Jensen grunts, tries to manoeuvre his hips to get more, but Jeff's having none of it, holds him in place and thrusts steadily until the boy's a whimpering mess under his hands, begging Jeff to make him come, so desperate he's almost sobbing with it.
"Mine," he growls, finally speeding up and giving Jensen some real friction.
"Go to hell!"
He's amazed Jensen can string even that short imprecation together, the state he's in. "Mine, he insists. "Say it, you little slut, or I won't let you come."
"In your dreams!" Jeff slows down. "Okay, okay, yours, you bastard, yours! Please!"
Jeff fucks into him hard, twice, three times, four, and he arches up and seizes, howling as he comes. Loud enough to be heard in the mess hall, and hell yeah, isn't that gonna piss Elba off? He clenches in spasms around Jeff's cock, hot and suddenly crushingly tight, and Jeff only manages a few more strokes to see Jensen through the aftershocks before his own orgasm thunders up on him. His arms give out and he tumbles forward to lie against Jensen full-length, pistoning hips the only part of him moving, growling and biting down on his shoulder as blinding heat floods through his veins. Feels like he's emptying his entire body and soul into this beautiful boy's lovely arse, and what a way to go.
They lie there boneless and gasping for breath for a while. Eventually, Jensen sighs happily and shifts his hips sensually against Jeff.
"Get the fuck off me, Captain, sir, you weigh a gorram megaton."
Perfect little whore with a hot temper and an insolent mouth. Jeff's keeping him forever.
★
Now with sequel! Settling In.
Author: dastiel_gal
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU, PWP
Pairing: Jeff/Jensen
Warnings Enticements: Dubcon, enslavement.
Word Count: 2,280.
Summary: Under space law, a ship is sovereign territory, and a captain can do what he likes with a stowaway. Put him to work, brig him, enslave him. Jensen may have had his reasons for stowing away, but this time he's jumped out of the frying pan, and into the fire.
Disclaimer: I don't own Jeffrey Dean Morgan or Jensen Ackles, more's the pity, this is all scurrilous lies, and I am not making money from this.
Author’s Notes: Written for blindfold_spn #5. The original prompt was Dubcon slavefic - Jensen hates his life on this miserable backwater planet. When Morgan's ship lands for a trading visit, Jensen figures it may be his one chance to get out and see the universe. Stowing away on board the spaceship was easy. Facing up to Captain Morgan after he's caught, not so much. But Jensen will do anything to keep from being sent home and Morgan's always been a sucker for a pretty face.. Crossposted to jeff_jensen, jdm_rpf and spn_rps, because I'm an attention whore.
Download from AO3.
--oo00oo--
Jeff leans back in his chair, feet kicked up on the desk, and studies the scared youngster in front of him. Dammit, he's got enough on his plate dodging the authorities on this shady fucking run. He really doesn't need the added complication of a stowaway right now. He scowls at the kid for the mean pleasure of seeing him flinch.
Tall and well-built; would be useful on the cargo deck on a standard run. But the stuff that's down there just now... well, Jeff doesn't want anyone but trusted crew seeing it, and that's a fact.
"We could just space him, Cap."
Stars, Elba's a nasty fucker sometimes; that solution wouldn't even have occurred to Jeff. The kid panics at that; who wouldn't? Starts babbling, begging for his life, wide-eyed and plump bottom lip trembling, and ain't that pretty.
"You know space law, lad? A ship is sovereign territory. A captain can do what he likes with a stowaway. Put him to work, brig him, enslave him. Kill him, although I'm not gonna do that. What the hell were you thinking? I know Randall's is a backwater, but was it really that bad?"
The reminder of where he's come from puts a look of hopeless terror in the kid's eyes that even the threat of death hadn't. "Please, please don't send me back," he begs. "I'll work hard, I can follow orders." He licks his lips nervously, which gives Jeff's little brain a jolt. "I'll do anything you want."
Jeff just had a much better idea than cargo-bay. He's only human, after all. "Anything?" he drawls suggestively.
The kid freezes as the implications of that sink in. But then his shoulders straighten, he takes a deep breath and slides to his knees with a grace that takes Jeff's breath away, and his blood downward.
"Anything you command, Captain."
Oh, fucking hellfire. Jeff knows what the kid's running from, he saw No Holds Barred on the list of ships in long-term port for repairs back at Randall's. The most notorious brothel ship in the entire sector, any kink catered to so long as money's no object. The boys had dragged Jeff on there once when he was working for Prentiss; even young and stupid as he was back then, he'd barely been able to get it up for the dead-eyed broken slave that was all he could afford. This kid was probably on the upper decks, gorgeous as he is. Silk sheets, and really sick kinks. Poor little bastard.
Not broken yet, though, if he's run - and now he's all Jeff's. Gotta love space law.
"Okay, son. I'm Jeff Morgan, captain of the Petit Bisou, and as of this moment you are my personal body slave. Nobody else on the crew will touch you without my permission - are you clear on that, Elba? - You will go where I go, do what I say, and serve me in any way I desire. If I don't want you with me, you will be confined to your cabin under lock. Any misbehaviour will be punished. I'm your master, and you are mine. Welcome to your new life."
There's a gulp and a pause before his captive answers. "Yes, sir."
"What's your name?"
"Jensen, sir."
Elba's open-mouthed and nonplussed at the way this is working out. He was probably looking forward to having a prisoner to push around. Jeff bites back a smirk.
"Thanks for bringing him up, Idris. You can get back to your duties now."
Elba scowls and stomps out, and Jeff take a nice long survey of his new property. He's pleased when Jensen stays still and quiet, awaiting instructions, and submits obediently to Jeff touching his face, turning his face this way and that, running his fingers through his hair.
He orders the lad to stand and remove his shirt and pants, and damn near passes out from blind lust when he turns out to be beautifully built, covered in freckles, and wearing a rich, gold-embroidered, green silk loincloth underneath. Freaking fuck, he looks good enough to eat, and Jeff's self-control is slipping fast. He reaches for the boy, who steps into the circle of his arms with alacrity and tips his face up to be kissed.
"Hey, wait," says Jeff, turned on but unconvinced by the boy's seemingly instant submission. "You don't have to lie to me, okay. This is gonna happen, and you're gonna do as you're told, but you don't have to pretend to like it. Or me."
There's a conflicted look on Jensen's face as he considers this disbelievingly, then apparently decides that the freedom to show his true feelings is worth more than the risk of punishment if Jeff's playing with him. He stiffens in Jeff's arms and glares at him.
"That's more like it. On your knees, boy, let's see what they taught you on No Holds Barred."
Jensen jerks at that, like it hadn't occurred to him that Jeff would put two and two together, even with the silk loincloth. He slides reluctantly to his knees and opens Jeff's pants.
Jeff leans back against the desk and sighs in anticipation as Jensen extracts his hard cock with sullen efficiency and strokes it expertly, grip just right, sliding a thumb across the head on the upstroke. And strokes. And strokes.
"Come on, stop stalling," snaps Jeff, and grabs a handful of Jensen's hair to pull his head forward. "You know what I want."
Jeff rubs his cock all over his face, smearing precome over his cheek. Jensen makes a sound of disgust, sneers up at Jeff and refuses to open his mouth for it. Before he knows what he's doing, Jeff has slapped his face, hard. "This is going to happen, Jensen. Your decision to stow away, now you take the consequences."
The look Jeff gets is pure fury, but Jensen does open up to take him in, licks and sucks and bobs his head up and down like a fucking vidporn star. Hell, he's amazing, and if Jeff closed his eyes he could imagine he was with a willing lover -- but he's just discovering that he has a sick little kink for coercion, and the flickers of disgust and sulky resignation that cross Jensen's face are sending tendrils of heat through his groin. Not to mention the flaming red impression of Jeff's hand across his cheek, nggghhh.
He lets Jensen suck him until he's nearly there, then pulls him off by the hair, cock twitching hard at Jensen's wince of pain. Fuck, he never realized he could like this. There are all sorts of wild ideas running around Jeff's brain, things he's never even considered doing before, much less thought he might enjoy if he did.
He swings Jensen around and shoves him face-down across the desk. "Stay there," he growls, and starts rifling through his office cupboard for something, anything he could use for slick. "Freaking hell, at this rate I'm gonna be fucking you dry."
"No gorram way, you fucking dick." Apparently he's reached Jensen's limit, but when Jeff turns around and sees the absolute outrage on Jensen's face, he can't bite back a guffaw. He's all the way into top-space and Jensen just looks like an angry kitten. Adorable, and no threat whatsoever.
Jensen fumbles in a tiny pouch attached to the side of his loincloth, face scarlet with humiliation and fury, and flings a sachet of lube at Jeff. That makes Jeff laugh even harder, and Jensen flings himself after it, fist flailing out. Jeff's been in a million bar brawls, and he's stone cold sober just now, so the kid stands no chance of connecting. Jeff tussles him to the floor and kneels astride him, snagging the sachet as they go down. Jensen struggles but he's got no leverage and no experience, and Jeff wrestles the loincloth down over his spectacular arse with zero trouble, kicks his legs open and traps them between his shins and feet. He braces his weight on a hand between Jensen's shoulderblades, and the kid's going nowhere. Jensen seems to know it and subsides into annoyed wriggles, snarling and muttering obscenities.
Jeff manages to get his jeans pushed down out of the way and lube up his cock one-handed, then dips his slick fingers between Jensen's cheeks. The kid protests and squirms, but the gasp he gives when Jeff finds his hole isn't entirely unhappy, and when Jeff presses a fingertip in, hell, that's definitely the good kind of moan.
"You like that, baby?" mocks Jeff.
"Fuck off," snarls Jensen, but he isn't even trying to get away from Jeff's hand any more. Jeff grins smugly, and sets about working Jensen open on his fingers, taking his time; smooth, steady rhythm, twisting as he goes, adding fingers in quick succession as Jensen stretches. Jeff's a master at this. He's made every boy he's ever fucked come on just his fingers at least once, it's his gorram trademark, but not today. Today he needs to get his cock into that beautiful pink hole. Jensen's making these delightful bitten-off moans, like doesn't want to give Jeff the satisfaction but can't help himself. He hardly takes any opening up at all - has obviously been in regular use on his previous ship, and Jeff's both turned on by the thought of Jensen being fucked by a succession of men, and filled with the filthy, possessive need to wash the memory of them out of his body on a tidal wave of Jeff's come.
"Freaking hell, kid, what the fuck are you doing to me?" he groans, and his voice sounds wrecked even to him. There's no answer from Jensen but a moan, and the kid's hips jerk backwards to impale himself even further on Jeff's fingers.
Jeff can't wait any longer, and it's not like Jensen's not loose enough. He pulls his fingers out, lines his cock up and shoves in, forceful but smooth, all the way in in one long unstoppable push. Jensen shudders and keens, a needy wail that does nothing for Jeff's sanity, and he starts moving straight away, giving him no time for adjustment. That doesn't seem to be a problem though, Jensen's hips circling, pushing back into Jeff's thrusts, matching his speed and angle faultlessly as if they'd been screwing each other for months.
It's fucking wonderful, is what it is. Every nerve in Jeff's body is on fire, and he feels like he could spontaneously combust. Nobody's ever accused Captain Jeff Morgan of lack of staying power, though, and he's enjoying this way too much to want it over quickly. He ploughs into Jensen's lusciously rounded backside at a steady, metronomic pace that he can keep up indefinitely.
Jensen is apparently more used to guys who ride him fast and shoot pretty quick; after a good few minutes of this, his moans take on a frustrated tone and he starts undulating his body invitingly, trying to entice Jeff into something faster, harder. Jeff has no intention of cutting his fun short, though. He shifts back a little onto his knees, hands tight on Jensen's hips to hold him still, and resumes the same steady rhythm. Jensen whines in protest, starts muttering complaints and insults under his breath.
Jeff knows what he's doing, though, knows how this rhythm works, slow and easy and it feels like it'll never be quite enough - but the whole time it's sensitizing your body, a slow smouldering heat that builds into a raging inferno that consumes you whole. He doubts anyone at the brothel ever had the patience for this, the skill or the stamina. He's gonna take Jensen apart from the inside out before he takes his own pleasure.
Jensen isn't gonna go down quietly, though. He's wriggling against Jeff's hold, huffing in frustration. "What the fuck are you waiting for, Morgan? Fuck me if you're going to!"
Jeff laughs and keeps going, changes the angle until he's sliding in just shy of Jensen's prostate, a constant light stimulation rather than the kind of direct pressure that makes a guy see stars. Jensen grunts, tries to manoeuvre his hips to get more, but Jeff's having none of it, holds him in place and thrusts steadily until the boy's a whimpering mess under his hands, begging Jeff to make him come, so desperate he's almost sobbing with it.
"Mine," he growls, finally speeding up and giving Jensen some real friction.
"Go to hell!"
He's amazed Jensen can string even that short imprecation together, the state he's in. "Mine, he insists. "Say it, you little slut, or I won't let you come."
"In your dreams!" Jeff slows down. "Okay, okay, yours, you bastard, yours! Please!"
Jeff fucks into him hard, twice, three times, four, and he arches up and seizes, howling as he comes. Loud enough to be heard in the mess hall, and hell yeah, isn't that gonna piss Elba off? He clenches in spasms around Jeff's cock, hot and suddenly crushingly tight, and Jeff only manages a few more strokes to see Jensen through the aftershocks before his own orgasm thunders up on him. His arms give out and he tumbles forward to lie against Jensen full-length, pistoning hips the only part of him moving, growling and biting down on his shoulder as blinding heat floods through his veins. Feels like he's emptying his entire body and soul into this beautiful boy's lovely arse, and what a way to go.
They lie there boneless and gasping for breath for a while. Eventually, Jensen sighs happily and shifts his hips sensually against Jeff.
"Get the fuck off me, Captain, sir, you weigh a gorram megaton."
Perfect little whore with a hot temper and an insolent mouth. Jeff's keeping him forever.
★
Now with sequel! Settling In.