Surrender - Part 2 - Collared, 4/4, Smith/Wesson, NC-17
Surrender - Part 2 - Collared (4/4)
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Sam woke up the next morning with his head on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean’s hand draped possessively over his backside, fingers just barely grazing Sam’s crack. Sam was on his side, the way he preferred to sleep, curled around Dean and anchored by Dean’s arm around his waist. He felt safe and warm.
He lifted his head to peer into Dean’s sleeping face, but as though Dean could feel that he was being watched, green eyes slid open and met Sam’s gaze.
“Good morning, baby,” he murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to Sam’s forehead. He tugged Sam back down, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him close, and rubbed his back while they dozed a little longer.
--
The next time Sam awoke, it was to the uncomfortable sensation of drool sliding out of his open mouth. He opened his eyes: he was alone. He stretched luxuriously, which was cut off with a yelp at the feeling of something moving inside of him. Something was teasing at the entrance of his anus from the inside, nudging insistently at his hole.
He moaned, loudly, squirming involuntarily. Whatever had been shoved up his ass, it didn’t feel like a solid piece; every time he moved at all, it rolled inside of him, brushing against the sweet spot of his prostate, which caused him to squirm again, which started the whole cycle all over again.
With effort, he forced his hips still and laid back, panting. What the hell? He’d been asleep. How the heck had something been shoved up his ass without waking him up? He had a sudden mental image of someone lifting his legs, while he was still unconscious, exposing his naked ass, and shivered.
“You havin’ a good time, baby?” asked Dean, his voice warm. Freshly-shaven and pink from his shower, he was leaning in the corner, watching Sam with dark, hungry eyes. Sam moaned softly, his dick diamond hard. He tried to reach down and feel what was up his butt, but Dean came to sit beside Sam on the bed, catching his hands and interlacing their fingers. “Leave that,” he said.
Sam hissed, writhing and bucking against the lazy roil of pressure inside of him, feeling like he was going to go mad. Every time his prostate got another nudge, he could feel more liquid dribbling out the end of his cock. “Are you - going to - do anything - about this?” he gasped, motioning down to his lower half to indicate the general region he was talking about.
“I don’t think you need any help,” said Dean, chuckling. He reached out a finger and traced up the inside of Sam’s thighs, making Sam thrust up wildly at nothing, his asshole spasming, a high-pitched whine escaping his lips, as Sam clenched his eyes closed, face scrunched up in pleasure.
“You want me to pull them out? I think you’ll really like that, baby,” said Dean, and Sam nodded frantically, his face wet with tears.
Dean gently spread his legs - Sam hissed again at the change in angle, flopping like a hooked fish - and took hold of what felt like a thin cord, giving it a light tug.
Sam covered his face with his arms and screamed. The feeling of that plastic piece sliding out of his slick, tender hole was indescribable, and as one part moved, the rest of it all shifted inside him.
“That feel good, baby?” Dean hummed. “Gonna pull out the next one.”
They were beads, Sam realized, round plastic globes strung together like pearls on necklace, but all different sizes, and when Dean pulled on the string they all rolled together, the weight of the last one pulling the one before it. It felt sort of like taking a giant dump, but it also felt incredible, and as the thickest one forced its way out of him, Sam felt himself starting to come from the pressure of the smallest one still inside of him.
“That’s it, there you go, just like that, just from your bottom,” Dean coaxed, “you can do it, baby. Deep breaths. Here we go.” He gave the cord a good pull, and at the same moment as the whole thing was extracted from his ass with a plop, Sam came violently all over himself.
“Knew you could do it, baby,” said Dean, patting Sam’s chest. Sam was still panting, his hips twitching, clear fluid dribbling irregularly out of the tip of his cock. He had never come so fiercely before, like something had ripped it out of him.
Dean climbed up on the bed next to him, absentmindedly wiping off Sam’s stomach with his hand. His touch set off another pulse.
“Stoppit,” Sam grumbled, screwing up his face when Dean slapped his messy hands down Sam’s sides. Dean just chuckled and inched closer against him, nuzzling into his neck.
They laid together until Sam’s stomach rumbled and Dean’s face creased into a smirk. “Hungry, huh?”
The morning was a repeat of the previous, except that Sam didn’t bother to resist, either the food Dean fed him, or the hands that gently washed him all over.
“Such a good boy today,” Dean hummed, toweling him dry with a warm, soft towel. Sam tipped his head back to let him towel his hair.
He submitted to being dressed in a white vest, holding still while Dean fastened a thin chain around his waist. “Gonna try out a suggestion from Doc Robert,” Dean warned, sliding a thicker plug into Sam’s ready hole.
Sam kept still as Dean used a white strip of fabric to truss Sam’s cock and balls, tight enough that he grunted at the pressure. Turning Sam around by the hips, he passed the thin end of the sash between Sam’s legs, hooking it to the back of the chain just above the swell of Sam’s stuffed ass. It sat uncomfortably in his asscrack like a thong.
“Pretty, baby,” said Dean, cuffing Sam’s hands in front of him and clipping the cuffs to the belly chain. If Sam tugged, he was putting pressure on his own swaddled genitals.
“Let’s go,” said Dean, opening the bedroom door.
Sam felt ridiculous with his dick hanging out. He tugged self-consciously on his belt, wincing as he accidentally tugged on his trapped balls. “Stop that,” said Dean, reaching out to grab his hand and holding it at his side. “Looks great on you. Now c’mon, sweetheart.”
Another set of endless hallways.
“A few more weeks and you’ll be one of the best subs to come out of the Facility,” said Dean as they walked together - and Sam briefly whited out at the thought of a few more weeks. Although actually, Sam had no idea how long he had been there so far. Physical time didn't seem to exist anymore - it had no bearing on when he ate, when he slept.
Only Dean did that.
“In the time you’ve been here, you haven’t had to make very many choices ... as much as possible, I’ve taken that burden away from you, haven’t I?”
This was true; Sam had been restrained almost the entire time, drugged for part of it, made to accept whatever Dean wanted to do with him.
“I’ve been trying to teach you the pleasure of surrendering,” Dean continued, “and I think I’m starting to succeed. Hmm?”
No comment from Sam, who was staring straight ahead.
“But now I want to teach you to choose submission,” said Dean, his voice firm. “I want you to acknowledge to yourself what you want, and learn to expect for it from your master. To accept it from your master, willingly, whatever he or she chooses to give you.”
Sam was confused why Dean would have added 'or she.' Obviously Dean was his master, and obviously he was a man. Why hadn’t he said, ‘accept what I chose to give you?’ But there was no opportunity to ask, because Dean was still talking.
“I want you to show me that you’re ready to move forward.”
Dean pushed open a set of double doors, and Sam stumbled forward, eager to see where he’d been taken as Dean flicked on a row of lights.
They were in the gymnasium. Blankly, he looked back at Dean.
“Go on, then,” said Dean, grinning, cracking Sam across the ass. “Go take a nice walk. Stretch your legs.”
Sam examined the running track that circled the field - he used to enjoy a jog after work, and it had always been a stress reliever for him during his final exams. He hadn’t had much motivation to continue, these past few years. Uncertainly, he trotted forward.
It was awkward with his hands locked in front of him, and his cock and balls trussed together, to say nothing of the plug buried in his ass, which reminded him of its presence at odd moments - but his legs were free. Although he was barefoot, he found he could maintain a slow, loping pace around the outside of the field.
After one lap, Dean waved him over. “If you’re good, I’ll let you come here with your hands free some time,” Dean promised, sliding a finger into the cuffs around Sam’s wrists to check the tension.
“Can I take off the belt?” he asked, his voice low. “I mean - next time?”
Dean smiled, patting his cheek. “By the time I’m done,” he said, “you’re not going to want to have your bottom empty. You’ll be begging me to give you something to put inside yourself.”
Sam blinked, trying to wrap his head around what Dean was saying.
There was a variety of sports and exercise equipment neatly stacked in the corner, and Dean examined the rack thoughtfully, then selected a soft foam soccer ball and tossed it at Sam’s feet.
“Kick this around,” he suggested.
Sam didn’t answer, but he accepted the addition, lightly tapping the ball with his feet and making a slow second lap. He managed to keep a steady pace, slowly increasing to a trot to keep up with the rolling ball. It felt great, after being pinned down for so long, to get some exercise, feel his blood pumping again. To concentrate on nothing but keeping his body in motion.
When he finished a second lap he looked up to realize that the gym was no longer deserted. Cas was walking around the loop, his hands behind his back, expression peaceful.
“Do you want to go walk with Cas?” Dean asked.
Sam didn’t know if he wanted to spend time with Dean’s old sub or not, but he wanted to keep stretching his legs, so he nodded uncertainly.
Dean patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Go on, baby, Cas is nice,” he said, apparently misunderstanding Sam’s hesitation. “Go play. I’m going to talk to Bobby in the other room, but I won’t be out of sight, okay?”
Sam nodded, his heart rate picking up. This was the first time Dean had left him alone since he’d taken him back to his own room.
“Hello, Sam,” said Cas calmly, as he approached.
“Hi,” said Sam.
“Would you like to walk with me?”
“Um, okay.” Sam slunk into place at Cas’s side, feeling ungainly and awkward next to that compact, upright figure. It occurred to him suddenly that Cas must have looked much more natural next to Dean.
“You’re very lucky to have Dean as your trainer,” remarked Cas calmly, as they walked together.
“Oh yeah?” Sam glanced over.
“Yes. All of the doms at the Facility are very good, but Dean is by far the best.”
Sam looked away. “I bet he is.”
“Most of the doms relish their personal power over a sub,” Cas continued thoughtfully. “That’s the aspect they most enjoy. But not Dean - he simply has a natural ability to determine exactly what a sub needs, and the desire to give it to them. It really is all about the sub, with him.”
Sam tried to pretend he wasn’t bothered by the concept that Cas had been with Dean, or the memory of Cas, kneeling on the bed with Dean’s cock up his ass. Dean had probably called him baby and sweetheart, too, had probably stroked his hair in the same way, kissed his temples. Sam pictured Dean doing the things with Cas that he refused to do with him; Cas sucking contentedly on Dean’s dick, which Sam had to imagine, having never even seen it properly; Cas, kissing Dean’s beautiful mouth. The thought made Sam feel kind of sick.
He glanced through the glass window between the rooms; Dean wasn’t even watching them. He was talking to that other dom, Bobby, a scruffy-looking older man with short reddish hair and a straggly beard. Sam was pretty sure Bobby had been among the men who kidnapped him from the apartment. They were gesticulating wildly in a manner that suggested to Sam that they were talking about sports.
“Sam, is everything alright? Oh - ” Cas cut himself off. There was another sub on the track in front of them, a petulant-looking man with straight brown hair.
“We probably shouldn’t walk this way,” said Cas. “Let’s go back.”
“Why?” Sam examined the other sub with interest.
“That’s Adam. He just washed out of the program and Michael is sending him home today.”
“Really?” Sam was immediately curious. This was one of the volunteers he had heard about, but other than Cas he hadn’t had the chance to talk to one yet. He continued along the track, all the way to the far wall where the brown-haired man was lingering.
“Hey, you! Yeah, Adam. You want to come over here?”
“Sam, you don’t need to be speaking with him,” said Cas, sounding upset. “We shouldn’t be here.”
“I can still talk to people, Cas,” said Sam irritably. “They can’t keep me alone forever.”
“I’ll tell Dean,” said Cas stubbornly.
But Dean and Bobby were all the way next door.
“Whatever. You do that.” Sam wheeled away and went to stand next to the brown-haired sub. “Is it true that you’re leaving?” he asked breathlessly.
“Yeah. This was a mistake,” said the boy bitterly. He looked Sam over. “I’ve heard about you," he said. "You’re the natural."
Sam supposed that he must be considered somewhat unusual, if all of the other subs in the facility were volunteers.
“Sam, you shouldn’t be talking to him,” said Cas loudly. For a sub, he didn’t seem to be having any problems being assertive at the moment.
“Cas, keep walking,” said Sam.
“I think it’s crap, what they did to you,” said the strange boy, Adam. “Keeping you here against your will, that’s not right.”
“I felt that way at first,” said Sam shyly, “but …” he swallowed. “I don’t know. There’s something about all this - ”
“It’s just brainwashing,” Adam said. “It’s all shit. They bring you out here, cut off from everything you know, and they brainwash you into believing they know what’s best for you. It’s no different than a cult.”
Knowingly, he glanced over at Sam. “It’s the kindness, right? That’s the hardest part. But the kindness is just another way to reprogram you. Do you know what’s going to happen, at the end of all this? They’re going to auction you off to some rich asshole, as a pet.”
“That’s not true,” said Sam.
“Sam, come back now,” said Cas.
“It is true. Ask him.” The stranger nodded at Cas. “He knows the truth.”
“It’s not like that - ” Cas started.
“Wait. You mean, I’m not going to be able to stay with Dean?”
“Stay with Dean?” The boy snickered. “Of course you’re not.”
“Sam, you have to trust the Facility to do the right thing for you,” said Cas.
“They’re going to send me away?” Sam felt like the world was collapsing. “To a stranger?”
None of it contradicted anything Dean had told him - but Sam was flushed with the sense of shame and betrayal all the same.
“I’m getting Dean,” said Cas, turning away.
“Quick, kid, this is your chance,” said the brown-haired man. “You get over that fence, and it’s barely a five mile hike to town.” He pointed out the window to the wire fence around the soccer pitch. It was tall, but not impossible to get over.
“They would catch me,” said Sam numbly. “Dean would find me.”
“I’ll distract `em, keep them off your back.” The stranger was excited, clearly relishing the chance to stick it to the Facility. “I’ll help you bust through the door, you just run. I’ll hold `em off you as long as I can. But we better hurry, Poster Boy’s already going to be fetching his master.”
His master, thought Sam. Dean didn’t belong to him, any more than he belonged to Cas.
“Hurry up, kid, this is your chance,” said the stranger. Sam looked up to the top of the fence. With his height, he might have just enough of a head start to get over, and then drop down the other side.
“I don’t … I don’t know,” he said, frightened.
“C’mon, kid, even if you’re a sub, you’re not a slave,” said the stranger. “This is your chance. Go!”
He threw open the door; immediately an alarm started to sound. Knowing that any more hesitation would doom his possibility of escape, Sam ducked under the shorter man’s arm and out through the door. Beyond the fence he could see nothing but a dry, rocky expanse - but at least it was easy to get traction on the soft grass of the soccer pitch. Within seconds he had reached the wire mesh.
He pulled himself up with his fingers, snapping the chain between his wrists with the weight of his body against the wire. He wished he had time to break the belly chain too, but he only had seconds to climb, using the speed he had accumulated to boost himself up and over. Luckily it was barbed wire, not razor, that lined the top, so Sam worked himself over it with no more than a long tear in his cotton vest. He landed hard on the rocky earth of the other side and started to run.
Distantly, behind him, he thought he could hear shouting, but Sam didn’t slow down. He forced himself to keep moving, never looking back.
(END OF PART TWO)
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