Surrender - Part 3 - Claimed, 2/3, Smith/Wesson, NC-17
Surrender - Part 3 - Claimed (2/3)
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With Dean assiduously alternating heat and cold packs, as well as salve and liniment and gentle massage, Sam’s bruises faded over time. His feet also healed without a scar, mostly due to Dean endlessly wrapping and unwrapping them every day.
Glad to have stopped limping, Sam nonetheless leaned heavily into Dean’s side as they walked around the various playrooms of the Facility, peering in the windows at men dressed in strange outfits - clowns, which Sam didn’t like, but also canine accessories, or horse tack complete with saddle, stirrups, bridle, and bit. One unwilling sub was being wrestled into a giant baby costume, with a bonnet and a pacifier. His dom was standing nearby, holding a teddy bear. “Why - why is he doing that?” asked Sam, quietly.
Dean looked to where the man and his sub were playing. “Some subs like to be humiliated,” he explained, tugging Sam protectively closer. “So we give that to them. Would you like that, baby?”
Sam thought about it - pictured Dean making him eat out of a dog bowl, or diapering his bottom on a changing table. “I don’t - don’t know,” he whispered, his cheeks flushing red.
“That’s okay baby,” said Dean, “it’s not my job to try to introduce you to every kind of sexual experience, just teach you to embrace your submission.” Because it’s up to your Master to decide what he wants you to do, was left unspoken.
They watched a sub being trained on a fucking machine, tied down bent over a bench while a swinging mechanical arm rammed a thick dildo, over and over, in and out of his well-lubed ass. The sub was sobbing, coming repeatedly on the impersonal machine, and Sam closed his eyes.
“Cas loves this one,” said Dean. “He can go for hours. Would you like to try it sometime?”
Sam shook his head. He was sure it felt good, but not as good as Dean’s dick, which he had still never gotten to see up close. That thought had his hole clenching in anticipation, cock stiffening in his pants.
“To each their own,” said Dean, with a shrug. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s go to lunch.”
--
Sam was lying on Dean’s bed, trying unsuccessfully to nap, sniffing at Dean’s pillow and absentmindedly stroking his own dick. Dean smirked at the sight when he came in from the shower. “Enjoying yourself, baby?”
Sam stopped what he was doing, rolling all the way onto his back and spreading his legs wider in obvious invitation. His own hand was fine, but Dean’s was better.
“Not yet, baby. But keep your legs open for me, I wanna see how your hole is doing.”
Sam was used to this inspection by now, and he willingly lifted his hips in presentation. His dom owned his ass, as well as his mouth and his hands and any other part of him he wanted.
Dean knelt between his thighs, spreading his cheeks apart and Sam closed his eyes, knowing what he was looking at - his tight little anus.
“Nice and clean?” asked Dean, sliding a finger into him.
Sam pressed back against him eagerly. He hoped he was clean. He scrubbed himself out pretty thoroughly every morning, and kept himself free of hair with the lotion Dean provided.
Dean’s knowing fingers slid around the edge of Sam’s stretched ass. “Looking good,” said Dean. “What a pretty little hole you’ve got here for me. It makes me want to be sweet to it, take care of it properly. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” said Sam softly. “Please.”
“You want something up here?”
Sam nodded, whining a little with pleasure.
“You want that, baby? Want something in your bottom?”
“Yes,” Sam whispered.
“I don’t know if you’ve earned that yet. What if I wanted to spank it, instead? Make you cry like a little girl.”
“You could do that,” said Sam shyly.
“That’s right, I could,” said Dean. “I could do anything I wanted, couldn’t I.”
“Yes.”
“Such a lovely bottom,” said Dean, stroking over the rounded flesh. “Is it mine, Sammy?”
“Yes,” said Sam mindlessly. “It’s yours. It belongs to you.”
“And if I wanted to give it to someone else, I could, couldn’t I?”
Sam nodded.
“That’s my good boy,” said Dean, softly. “Today I want to give you something you want, sweetheart. What’s it going to be?”
Your dick thought Sam at once, but he didn’t say it. Instead he nibbled his lip, hesitating.
“My mouth,” he whispered, shyly. “I want - something in my mouth. I like - I like the way it feels.”
“Such a good boy, telling me what you want,” said Dean. “You want something to suck on? That what you want?”
Sam flushed and nodded, ducking his head.
“Ask me pretty, baby,” said Dean. His voice was warm and affectionate. “Good boys have to ask nicely for what they want.”
“Please,” said Sam. “Please - put something in my mouth.”
“In your pretty mouth,” said Dean.
“In my pretty mouth,” Sam repeated, bright pink now.
“Say, I’m a beautiful boy,” Dean teased. Sam, still blushing, shook his head, looking down at his hands on the bed.
“My beautiful boy,” said Dean, sounding almost sad. It was so strange that Sam looked up into his face, but Dean was looking away. “Bite the pillow, baby.”
Sam flipped himself over at once, aware that he was lying in his own wet spot from earlier. He turned his face and opened his mouth, and was rewarded with two of Dean’s fingers sliding easily back into him.
“Gonna make you feel good, baby” said Dean absently stroking his thigh. “Make you feel real good.”
Sam writhed and twisted on the bed, choking on the pillowcase, as Dean tortured that place inside of him, rubbing it between his fingertips.
“Gonna come for me, sweetheart? Paint your spunk on my sheets? Know you love this, finally got some fingers shoved up inside you, know you’ve been waiting all day.” Finally Dean flicked his fingers against Sam’s walls, and Sam came on a long, muffled groan.
“Okay,” said Dean, wiping his hands on a towel. “Come on then, sweetheart.”
Sam stumbled behind Dean, barely registering that for the first time since he'd arrived, he wasn't restrained in any way - his wrists weren’t cuffed together, his ankles were free, his mouth and his ass were empty. It was almost a strange feeling - it made him feel a little out of control.
"Sammy?" Dean had a hand on his elbow, but upon observing that Sam had spaced out, he slid it up to Sam's neck and squeezed gently. "You alright, sweetheart?" His hand cupped Sam's face, turning it up towards him. “Nervous?”
Actually Sam couldn’t really remember where they were going and had forgotten to care. He always ended up wherever Dean wanted him, anyway.
“Good boy,” said Dean, taking his hand, leading him on. Sam trailed along in Dean’s shadow, staring at their intertwined fingers.
He was led into a large white room, with high ceilings lined with windows. Sam glanced hesitantly around and could see people, sitting inside viewing the room. It reminded him of an operating theatre on that cheesy hospital drama, Dr. Sexy.
“You ready, Sammy?” asked Dean, sliding an arm around his shoulders and tugging him on. Now Sam could see a line of chairs along one wall. He nodded, although he didn’t know what he had to be ready for.
“This is a special day for you,” started Dean. A side door opened, and Bobby came in. Sam looked over to Dean, surprised, but Dean didn’t seem troubled by his presence. “You remember Bobby,” said Dean. “Say hi, baby.”
“Hi,” said Sam shyly.
“What a nice boy you’ve got there, Dean,” said Bobby. Sam flushed with pleasure.
“Thank you,” said Dean, “Sammy’s a real sweetheart. You wanna watch him suck Cas’ dick?”
“Sure,” said Bobby, taking a seat.
For the first time, Sam noticed that Cas was sitting in one of the chairs, his mouth sealed with a strip of silver tape. Dean walked to him, pushing his knees apart. “C’mere baby. Crawl over here.”
Sam dropped to his knees obediently, conscious of all the eyes fixed on him - Bobby’s, Cas’, and the strangers’ in the viewing room upstairs. But Dean was telling him what to do, so Sam did it.
“He’s messy,” said Dean, pressing his finger back behind Cas’ balls, his other hand pressing Cas’s shoulders back against the chair. The blue-eyed man hummed behind the tape, lifting his hips, his eyelashes fluttering. “He’s got my jizz in his ass. Come try some of it.”
Dean scooped up a fingerful of what looked like white, sticky glue and motioned Sam closer. “C’mon, baby,” said Dean. “Ah-ah-ah. On your knees for me, sweetheart. Crawl.”
Sam did, hesitantly aware of Bobby’s eyes on his back.
Dean brought his finger-full up to Sam’s lips. “Swallow it,” said Dean.
Sam debated. On one hand, he wanted to taste Dean’s cum, having never had the opportunity to try it before. But it had been in Cas’ ass -
Shyly, Sam licked the sticky slime off of Dean’s finger, embarrassed at the thought of everybody watching. It didn’t taste like anything much, not in the light of Dean’s approval - just salty and slightly bitter. “That’s my good boy,” said Dean. “You can’t be afraid to eat come, in this business. I should make you clean up his bottom for him, but luckily for you, Cas isn’t into that. Are you, angel?”
Cas managed to shake his head ‘no’ with a soft grunt, but really he looked too fucked-out to care one way or another what Sam did.
“But you’d have to do it, if I told you to, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? Spread these pretty cheeks wide apart and dive right in. You’d bury your face in his ass, put your mouth on his hole, slide your tongue up there as deep as you could, if I told you to. Wouldn’t you, baby? Eat him out nice and clean?”
Helplessly, Sam nodded. Of course he would, if Dean told him to.
“Good. Now, c’mere. Come crawl between his legs and take him in your mouth.”
Sam inched forward, hesitant. He parted his lips as Dean’s hand came to rest on the back of his neck, guiding his head down. Cas was only half hard, and Sam was surprised when his face was pressed, not against his dick, but to one of his smooth, hairless balls.
Sam opened his mouth and sucked on one, listening to Cas puffing sharp breaths through his nose. It felt good in his mouth, warm and salty. He was pulled back by the hair, letting the round ball roll off his tongue, then held with his lips barely a centimeter from the other testicle. Taking the hint, he stuck out his tongue and began to lick, long lathing strokes like he would use on an ice cream cone.
“That’s nice, baby,” rumbled Dean. “Now you can swallow his nice hard dick.”
Sam lifted his head and caught a glimpse of Cas’ face before he was firmly pressed back down. The dark-haired man’s head was dropped back, eyes on the ceiling, expression serene. Then Sam’s mouth was steered over the head of Cas’ erection and he sucked willingly, as the warm hand on the back of his neck bobbed him gently back and forth like a puppet.
“Such a good boy,” said Dean, forcing him further down.
Sam had never sucked dick before, but he had gotten used to the shape of the cock gag filling his throat during his rest hours. He remembered how he’d even found comfort in the suckling, that first time. He hadn’t realized it then, but those days in the beginning - when all his choices were made for him - were the safest he’d ever felt in his whole life.
“Fuck, you look so beautiful like this, your lips stretched around a cock. You want something in your ass, too, baby?”
Sam had a brief second in which he thought Dean was actually going to fuck him, and a hot rush of relief and desire raced through him. Unable to lift his head, he nodded as well as he could, grunting.
“Reach back and spread yourself, then. Show everyone how much you want it.”
Awkwardly Sam reached behind himself, keeping Cas’ dick in his mouth. He took a cheek in each hand and pulled them apart, exposing his anus to the room.
“Good boy.” But instead of Dean’s cock, it was just a finger that slid into his hole, brushing against his prostate.
“Push up against him, Angel. Fuck his mouth.”
Sam relaxed his throat and jaw and let it happen, sucking lightly as Cas flexed his hips to pump in and out. Dean began prodding that place inside of him and Sam moaned happily. He just wished it was Dean’s cock he was swallowing, the one he’d never even seen.
He knew people were watching, watching him take it from both ends, but he didn’t care. He didn’t have to do anything now other than let his mouth be used, and he felt powerful, fulfilled.
He remembered he way Dean had said submission wasn’t a weakness. He thought he was beginning to understand.
He was distracted by these thoughts when Cas came violently down his throat, a hand on his neck pushing his face down and almost choking him on the cum. Cas was very quiet as he bucked up, but he spurted for a long time. Sam was held down or all of it.
The finger in his ass hooked up against Sam’s prostate, and he came from the lack of oxygen, or maybe it was the second he was pulled back so he could breathe. He couldn’t help himself, spattering his stomach in front of everyone. He didn’t care if the whole world witnessed it, as long as he was pleasing Dean.
“You seen enough, Bobby?” asked Dean, handing Sam another plain white tunic to cover up.
“Yeah, I seen enough. He’s ready.”
Dean was squinting up at the viewing window, seemingly waiting for some kind of sign from the watchers upstairs. Whatever he received, it was apparently enough.
“My beautiful boy,” said Dean, pulling Sam up off of his knees and into a hug. “You did it, baby. Did so great. You passed, baby.”
For some reason, it sounded like goodbye.
Sam felt his heart rate pick up. “What’s happening?”
Dean kissed Sam’s temple, stroking his hair. When he spoke, his voice was strangely - sad. “So proud of you, sweetheart. Bobby -“ Dean’s voice cracked, and Sam heard Cas’ quiet sound of dismay. The other man peeled the tape off his mouth and came to stand next to Dean, pressed against his side. “Bobby’s gonna take care of you now, okay?”
Sam watched, wide-eyed, as the orange-haired man came to stand at Dean’s side, resting a firm hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing, kid,” he rumbled, voice deep with sympathy.
Dean swallowed and nodded, eyes grim with determination.
“I want you to go with Bobby, okay? Be good for Bobby.”
Sam didn’t understand anything. Dean was sending him away? Now?
“I’ll take care of him,” said Bobby, patting Dean’s shoulder. “Come on, kid.” He put a firm hand on the back of Sam’s neck, urging him forward. “Let’s go.”
Obediently Sam started forward, keeping pace with Bobby.
But he turned his head to look back at Dean as he was led away, and Dean’s eyes never left his face until finally they passed through a doorway and turned left into the hall.
The last thing Sam saw was Cas, huddled in against Dean’s side, trying to comfort him, and Dean, dropping his face into the shorter man’s shoulder.
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