Slave 4 U [1/3]
Title: Slave 4 U [1/3]
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean/Benny
Rating: R
Words: 1243
Summary: Many nasty things were said about pirates. Some of them were true. But most of them didn't apply to Benny.
Warnings: AU. Slave!Dean. Explicit sexual relationships. Implied non-con. Part 1 of 3 to come
Many nasty things were said about pirates. Thieves, looters, kidnappers, rapists, murderers... hell, there was no denying it, some of them were quite true. Specially when some of them were also creatures of the night, lurkers in the shadows. Vampires.
Benny Lafitte always felt that he didn't fit the stereotype. Or at least, the type the Old Man, his maker, wanted his crew to be. He wasn't as vicious, as lustful, as psychotic he even dared to say, as most of the crew was. To hell with it, all of them were. There wasn't one person on that boat who wasn't a bloodthirsty creature whose only thoughts revolved around what town to aboard next and who would be the next victim, the next human to drain out of blood before tossing it lifeless to the ground, like a piece of garbage no longer required.
It was in a little island near South America where he found out just how far his beloved maker had sunk into darkness.
It was an auction, he had been told. There were some items the Old Man intended to acquire for himself and for his crew, and only took his most trusted mates with him. Benny and two other followed suit.
The auction started with objects of evident supernatural origin (well, shiny and mysterious often meant supernatural, didn't they?), in which the Old Man took no interest. He did however, start to smile when the announcer exclaimed that the real thing was about to start, as did other potential buyers. The place wasn't big, but the people were far apart from each other, in order to not recognize each other he presumed. He couldn't identify anyone, but then again, he didn't know anyone so...
"Here it comes, boys" the Old Man grins. "You've been good to me. You can choose from what comes now, whichever prize you want for your behaviour."
Benny felt a wave of gratitude towards him like he had never felt, until the prizes entered the place.
Two men and a woman, barely covered by a brown loincloth (the woman's breasts weren't covered, though), their hands and feet spourting shackles that subdued them to docility. Their faces were emotionless, all of them kept looking down, unable to face the small crowd before them. He couldn't see them, but he could tell the look of pain in their eyes, those dull eyes of doom that he was sure he couldn't face without vomiting (well, technically he couldn't vomit, vampire and all, but the thought counted). He knew what these people were.
Slaves.
"Let's begin with the first, shall we?" the auctioneer announced. He snapped his fingers and the one closest to him stood up to face them all.
The look the slave sported wasn't the one he expected, to say the least. It was challenging, daring, as if inviting the crowd to make a fool out of him and see where it took them. There was probably pain hidden behind it, sure, but he made a hell of a job putting it behind him. He wasn't very tall, but ripped and with muscles in all the right places, with gorgeous hazel eyes and -because, well, the loincloth was small and tight- evidently well-endowed.
Benny looked at the Old Man withouth a second thought. Without any thought, actually. He didn't want him for... whatever it was that this slaves did.
If there was a chance to save him from falling to the hands of such sadists as his crewmates, he would take it.
"If you want it, my dear Benny" the Old Man says cryptically, raising the sign they were using to bid. "Then it should be yours."
Benny didn't fail to notice his use of the word 'it'.
****
Benny is one of the very few crewmembers to have his own cabin. One of the perks of being one of the very first vampires the Old Man turned to one of his own. It was right next to the captain's quarters, but usually one couldn't hear what was going on in the other cabin unless you were really trying and the sea was feeling benevolent enough to be quiet (no waves rocking the boat, no furious wind blowing, no seagulls squawking...)
He got in before the Old Man and the others made it back. He had claimed his 'prize' and took it home before any questions or inquiries were produced. The man didn't look daring anymore, yet he didn't seem defeated either. It seemed more as if he had surrendered. Like his bluff had been called, and then all one could do was smile as what you had bet was taken away from your fingers.
Benny sat down on his bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The man stayed standing, still, as if waiting for something. He removed his jacket and his hat, hanging them by the bedside, and laid on the side of the bed. The slave was still standing there.
"What's your name?"
He thought he saw the tiniest bit of surprise on his eyes, but he was good at hiding it.
"It's not important, sir. You can call me as you prefer."
"The name's Benny, not sir" he said rather harshly. "And I asked you a question."
There was a brief silence before the younger man answered.
"Dean."
"Well Dean, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Benny smiled. "I know what you are, and I have a pretty good picture of what they made you do. I'm betting it wasn't pretty."
"I did what I was told to" was Dean's solemn response.
"To who? To who did you these things you were told to?" he insists. "To men? To women? Who was your previous..." it takes a moment before he can voice that word "owner?"
Dean swallows, as if he shouldn't be revealing anything. However, he replies simply; "Both".
Benny doesn't know what to say next, so he just looks down and sighs. It's then when Dean drops on his knees, gets closer to him, reaches out and grabs him by the belt. The pirate is too surprised by the sudden outburst of action from the previous inmobile human to notice that it was already unbuckled and his pants were down, only the smooth fabric of his white underwear separating his meat from Dean's eager mouth.
"Wha- Dean. Stop."
It probably didn't sound like an order, more like a mix between one and a moan, but the human slave obeyed nonetheless.
"I thought you wanted this, sir. Why you asked those questions, sir."
"It's not that... and my name's Benny. Call me by it" Benny insists, trying to stop himself from panting. Dean's palms rested firmly on his thighs.
"People like sex. Do you not like sex, s- Benny?"
"I do. Very much" he chuckles. "But not like this?"
"You don't like this?" Dean's hand reaches up to caress Benny's cock, confirming just how hard it was.
"Maybe now, yes. But it's not right" Benny says firmly, standing up and moving past him. "I don't have sex. I make love."
Dean just stares questioningly. In his head, both things were synonyms of the same thing. Whatever distinction the vampire was created was all kinds of messed up. Nevertheless, he obeys his master's implicit command and gets away from him. Benny sighs.
"We're not going to do anything. You're not going to be treated like that anymore, as long as I'm around" Benny wishes Dean would nod and believe him, but he was sure he had heard similar promises before. And here he was, still a slave. Words alone weren't going to be convincing. "It's been a long night. Let's get some sleep, brother."
Something in Dean's facial expression seemed slightly altered at that word. He kept a mostly stoic demeanour in spite of that, but Benny could tell. He didn't question it, though. It didn't feel like something he should be inquiring about.
Benny lay down on his bed, on his white underwear and his white wife-beater shirt, covered with the blue silky sheets. He instructed Dean to lay next to him, so that he didn't have to take the floor, with their backs turned to each other. It wasn't exactly comfortable, yet Dean did not complain for a second. He even thought he heard a word of gratitude in an inaudible whisper.
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean/Benny
Rating: R
Words: 1243
Summary: Many nasty things were said about pirates. Some of them were true. But most of them didn't apply to Benny.
Warnings: AU. Slave!Dean. Explicit sexual relationships. Implied non-con. Part 1 of 3 to come
Many nasty things were said about pirates. Thieves, looters, kidnappers, rapists, murderers... hell, there was no denying it, some of them were quite true. Specially when some of them were also creatures of the night, lurkers in the shadows. Vampires.
Benny Lafitte always felt that he didn't fit the stereotype. Or at least, the type the Old Man, his maker, wanted his crew to be. He wasn't as vicious, as lustful, as psychotic he even dared to say, as most of the crew was. To hell with it, all of them were. There wasn't one person on that boat who wasn't a bloodthirsty creature whose only thoughts revolved around what town to aboard next and who would be the next victim, the next human to drain out of blood before tossing it lifeless to the ground, like a piece of garbage no longer required.
It was in a little island near South America where he found out just how far his beloved maker had sunk into darkness.
It was an auction, he had been told. There were some items the Old Man intended to acquire for himself and for his crew, and only took his most trusted mates with him. Benny and two other followed suit.
The auction started with objects of evident supernatural origin (well, shiny and mysterious often meant supernatural, didn't they?), in which the Old Man took no interest. He did however, start to smile when the announcer exclaimed that the real thing was about to start, as did other potential buyers. The place wasn't big, but the people were far apart from each other, in order to not recognize each other he presumed. He couldn't identify anyone, but then again, he didn't know anyone so...
"Here it comes, boys" the Old Man grins. "You've been good to me. You can choose from what comes now, whichever prize you want for your behaviour."
Benny felt a wave of gratitude towards him like he had never felt, until the prizes entered the place.
Two men and a woman, barely covered by a brown loincloth (the woman's breasts weren't covered, though), their hands and feet spourting shackles that subdued them to docility. Their faces were emotionless, all of them kept looking down, unable to face the small crowd before them. He couldn't see them, but he could tell the look of pain in their eyes, those dull eyes of doom that he was sure he couldn't face without vomiting (well, technically he couldn't vomit, vampire and all, but the thought counted). He knew what these people were.
Slaves.
"Let's begin with the first, shall we?" the auctioneer announced. He snapped his fingers and the one closest to him stood up to face them all.
The look the slave sported wasn't the one he expected, to say the least. It was challenging, daring, as if inviting the crowd to make a fool out of him and see where it took them. There was probably pain hidden behind it, sure, but he made a hell of a job putting it behind him. He wasn't very tall, but ripped and with muscles in all the right places, with gorgeous hazel eyes and -because, well, the loincloth was small and tight- evidently well-endowed.
Benny looked at the Old Man withouth a second thought. Without any thought, actually. He didn't want him for... whatever it was that this slaves did.
If there was a chance to save him from falling to the hands of such sadists as his crewmates, he would take it.
"If you want it, my dear Benny" the Old Man says cryptically, raising the sign they were using to bid. "Then it should be yours."
Benny didn't fail to notice his use of the word 'it'.
****
Benny is one of the very few crewmembers to have his own cabin. One of the perks of being one of the very first vampires the Old Man turned to one of his own. It was right next to the captain's quarters, but usually one couldn't hear what was going on in the other cabin unless you were really trying and the sea was feeling benevolent enough to be quiet (no waves rocking the boat, no furious wind blowing, no seagulls squawking...)
He got in before the Old Man and the others made it back. He had claimed his 'prize' and took it home before any questions or inquiries were produced. The man didn't look daring anymore, yet he didn't seem defeated either. It seemed more as if he had surrendered. Like his bluff had been called, and then all one could do was smile as what you had bet was taken away from your fingers.
Benny sat down on his bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The man stayed standing, still, as if waiting for something. He removed his jacket and his hat, hanging them by the bedside, and laid on the side of the bed. The slave was still standing there.
"What's your name?"
He thought he saw the tiniest bit of surprise on his eyes, but he was good at hiding it.
"It's not important, sir. You can call me as you prefer."
"The name's Benny, not sir" he said rather harshly. "And I asked you a question."
There was a brief silence before the younger man answered.
"Dean."
"Well Dean, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Benny smiled. "I know what you are, and I have a pretty good picture of what they made you do. I'm betting it wasn't pretty."
"I did what I was told to" was Dean's solemn response.
"To who? To who did you these things you were told to?" he insists. "To men? To women? Who was your previous..." it takes a moment before he can voice that word "owner?"
Dean swallows, as if he shouldn't be revealing anything. However, he replies simply; "Both".
Benny doesn't know what to say next, so he just looks down and sighs. It's then when Dean drops on his knees, gets closer to him, reaches out and grabs him by the belt. The pirate is too surprised by the sudden outburst of action from the previous inmobile human to notice that it was already unbuckled and his pants were down, only the smooth fabric of his white underwear separating his meat from Dean's eager mouth.
"Wha- Dean. Stop."
It probably didn't sound like an order, more like a mix between one and a moan, but the human slave obeyed nonetheless.
"I thought you wanted this, sir. Why you asked those questions, sir."
"It's not that... and my name's Benny. Call me by it" Benny insists, trying to stop himself from panting. Dean's palms rested firmly on his thighs.
"People like sex. Do you not like sex, s- Benny?"
"I do. Very much" he chuckles. "But not like this?"
"You don't like this?" Dean's hand reaches up to caress Benny's cock, confirming just how hard it was.
"Maybe now, yes. But it's not right" Benny says firmly, standing up and moving past him. "I don't have sex. I make love."
Dean just stares questioningly. In his head, both things were synonyms of the same thing. Whatever distinction the vampire was created was all kinds of messed up. Nevertheless, he obeys his master's implicit command and gets away from him. Benny sighs.
"We're not going to do anything. You're not going to be treated like that anymore, as long as I'm around" Benny wishes Dean would nod and believe him, but he was sure he had heard similar promises before. And here he was, still a slave. Words alone weren't going to be convincing. "It's been a long night. Let's get some sleep, brother."
Something in Dean's facial expression seemed slightly altered at that word. He kept a mostly stoic demeanour in spite of that, but Benny could tell. He didn't question it, though. It didn't feel like something he should be inquiring about.
Benny lay down on his bed, on his white underwear and his white wife-beater shirt, covered with the blue silky sheets. He instructed Dean to lay next to him, so that he didn't have to take the floor, with their backs turned to each other. It wasn't exactly comfortable, yet Dean did not complain for a second. He even thought he heard a word of gratitude in an inaudible whisper.