Teacher's Pet Chapter 7
Title: Teacher's Pet Chapter 7
Author: JCRGIRL
Banner: imogen_lily
Pairing: Dean/Sam, OMC/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Overall: Wincest, AU, bondage, non-con (not the boys), kidnap, abuse, D/S overtones, weecest (Sam is 16)
Word Count: ~ 4850
Beta: glimmerella
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Just playing in Kripke's sandbox.
Summary: Sam is kidnapped and the hunting community, headed by Dean and John, band together to find him. Four days after he's taken, Sam stumbles out of the woods beaten, bruised and broken and reminds Dean and John that not all evil is supernatural.
Athor Notes: Oh the bad, wrong things I did in this chapter *hides under the desk*. May Chuck and The Winchesters forgive me! Maybe we can do a drinking game, take a shot every time I hurt Sammy! We'd all be singing karaoke.
Calloused hands smoothed over his skin, fingers tickling over ribs on their trek southward. Soft lips blazed a path from shoulder to ear, pausing to nibble and suck the sensitive places that made him writhe and gasp. He angled his head to the side to encourage further exploration, eyes sliding shut in bliss of their own accord. He sighed happily as a wet kiss just beneath the corner of his jaw sent shivers of desire racing down his spine. His long fingers stretched wide and gathered a handful of sheet, clenching it in a tight fist, to ground his pleasure drunk-body.
A tongue traced the shell of his ear followed by warm breath that cooled the dampness and mixed with the desire to raise goosebumps along his overheated flesh. “You sure?”
The hand petting his side moved around to his stomach and slowly slid up his bare chest, thumb brushing over the right nipple and eliciting a gasp. “God, yes,” he whispered, panted, unwilling to break the intimate cocoon they’d created. He melted into the warmth outlining his body from behind.
The large palm ghosted higher, cupping his neck in a loose hold. His heart felt no fear at its presence, only awe. He was safe, he was cherished, he was loved. His head tilted back to rest on the broad shoulder behind him, baring the long length in a display of trust. The fingers tightened slightly, the pressure not intended to harm, but to silently acknowledge the act of faith.
Lust flowed through his veins like fire, the flames licking his skin from the inside out and heating his blood to a slow boil. His hand traded its hold on the sheet for a grip on the muscled hip pressed flush to his own.
“Please,” he managed, whimpering at the loss when the careful weight around his neck lifted.
“Shhh, I got you.”
A strong hand rested tenderly on his hip, rubbing calming circles over the joint. A nose slotted into silken tresses and butterfly kisses were peppered along the tender skin at his nape. He refused to be soothed, his body craving the passion like an addict denied his vice.
Slowly the hand drifted down, lightly following his hamstring and causing the hairs on his thigh to rise to attention at the touch. Reaching the knee, fingers curled behind the bend and maneuvered it to rest higher on the mattress. The weight at his back gently pushed his body forward, using the flexed leg to brace him. Anticipation pooled warm and heavy in his groin and the ache between his legs throbbed impatiently.
The soft click of a cap gave birth to the first seeds of doubt. He concentrated on feeling rather than thinking. A slick digit circled his most intimate place, coaxing the virgin muscle into relaxation, as the kisses moved to the delicate skin under his jaw. He arched into the touches, his mind hazy with pleasure.
“Will it hurt?” Despite the endorphin induced fog clouding his mind, his worry found a voice.
The tentative touch stilled and the lips pressed to his neck moved away. He cursed himself internally. The question was one he knew the answer to already, but had slipped out nevertheless. A sigh floated on the air, just before a face nestled into the crook of his neck. He didn’t need to look to know what was going on in the head resting against him. Truth wrestled want, the mind versus the heart. The instinct to protect from any hurt warred with the guilt of inflicting the pain.
“Some,” was the soft reply, spoken like a midnight confession. “First time always does.” A light kiss was pressed to his shoulder and the warmth buried against his neck retreated. The finger stroking his never before touched skin moved away. “We don’t have to, you know. There’s nothing written that says we do. Not now, not ever.”
He turned to look at the face hovering over him, letting his love and trust show in his eyes. He leaned up and captured lush lips in a long, slow kiss, his mouth underlining the message his eyes were conveying. Breaking the kiss, he lay back on the bed and released the hip still in his grasp to guide the lubed hand back to its previous spot.
The ministrations resumed, teasing the tense muscle into loosening but not breaching, while wet, open mouthed kisses rained over his shoulders and back. A wet stripe was licked up the knobs of his spine and a bruise was sucked at the top just below the line of his collar. He smiled at the claiming mark that would be hidden except from the person it belonged to.
Panted breaths ghosted over his ear, words interspersed in a rambling declaration. “Gonna take care of you. Do my best not to hurt you. Never want to hurt you. Always protect you. Never let anything happen to you.” Truth and promise fell heavily between them, a commitment about to be consummated.
Later, as the blood engorged member slid past his well prepared ring and his mind was assaulted by new feelings and sensations, he heard the closely guarded and stingily used words that were whispered into his skin with religious reverence. “I love you, Sammy”.
His answer was automatic and just as heartfelt. “I love you, Dean.”
Sam woke abruptly to the sound of a door slamming in the distance. The dream faded, chased away by the harsh bite of reality. He was lying on the floor of the sauna in the fetal position, naked and shivering. The moist air had lost its heat, a cool, wet blanket against his skin that chilled to the bone. His body felt weak, the effects of Reece’s purification still lingering.
He wondered idly how long he’d been gone and how close Dean and Dad were to finding him. The grey light filtering through the window didn’t provide much of a reference. It could be foggy daybreak or hazy dusk. One day? Two?
He fingered the ring on his hand, the only thing that Reece hadn’t removed. He was oddly thankful to his subconscious for allowing him to relive the memory of his first time rather than replay the horror he’d experienced. This was no different than any other kidnapping. He needed to concentrate on his future freedom instead of his current captivity. Not focus on the here and now, but on the then and when. He could do it.
He twirled the alarmingly loose ring around his finger, his mind soothed by the repetitive gesture. The door to the sauna opened, but he didn’t turn toward it. He already knew who he’d find. Footsteps rattled the cedar planked floor, growing louder as they approached. Loafers topped with tan chinos appeared in front of him and he fought the urge to back away. He would not show weakness to this man.
Reece knelt beside him, setting a bottle of water down on the floor so he could slip an arm under Sam’s upper body and lift him. Raising one knee in a genuflect, he leaned Sam’s back against his bent leg and retrieved the water from the floor. He cupped the back of Sam’s head and raised the bottle to his lips.
“Drink, angel. You’ll be dehydrated from the cleansing. It was necessary though. We needed to rid your body of the dark stain Dean left on it.”
Sam felt the edge of the bottle press against his bottom lip and Reece’s damnable hand on his head, but ignored them, eyes focused unseeingly on the wall. He continued to manipulate the ring, his mind blanking out everything but the spin of metal around flesh.
“Samuel, drink!” Reece tipped the bottle, water poured out the spout and down Sam’s face.
Sam didn’t move or flinch. The water ran off his chin, dripping down his chest and over his hands. The cool liquid eased the twirl of the ring and he rotated it faster.
“Fine, Samuel. You want to be stubborn. You’ll get thirsty…” Reece trailed off. Placing the bottle back on the floor, motion caught the corner of his eye.
Lifting Sam’s hand, he examined the ring the younger man had been playing with. It was unique; the hand etched pattern on the band intricate and detailed. He tugged on the circle of metal, intending to take it off, and recapture his boy’s attention. He was surprised when Sam’s head snapped in his direction and his fingers curled into a fist preventing the removal. Well that got a reaction.
“Who gave you this pretty trinket? Your father?” Nothing. “Dean?” Sam’s eyes narrowed and his fist clenched tighter, the knuckles blanching under the strain. Bingo!
“Let me have it, Samuel,” Reece gripped Sam’s wrist tightly and used his other hand to pry the locked fingers open. “We must remove him from your life, Samuel, so we can move on.”
Sam tried to wrench his arm away, his other hand clawing at Reece’s wrapped around his wrist. He couldn’t let him take away the only piece he had of his brother. He’d left his bracelet in a desperate attempt to be found. He couldn’t lose his ring too.
Their struggles unbalanced them and Sam found himself underneath the older man as he continued to fight. Despite Sam’s training, he was still slight and his lean muscle mass was no match for Reece’s size advantage. Quickly, the teacher had him pinned to the floor with his body and was frantically trying to force the band that started it all from Sam’s finger.
“Enough!” He yelled, control slipping. “Give. It. To. Me.” Enraged when Sam continued to resist, he drew his arm back.
The punch caught Sam in the same spot as the hit from the night before. The blow dazed him and while shaking his head to clear the disorientation he felt the ring begin to slide. Renewing his efforts, he wriggled his fingers and hand erratically to keep Reece from getting it past his knuckle. A crack echoed off the wooden walls and Sam didn’t have time to muffle the cry that followed. White hot pain shot from Sam’s finger up his forearm. The ring that was worryingly movable earlier suddenly felt too tight.
Reece made a disgusted noise and rose to his knees, legs bracketing Sam’s hips. Looking down at Sam with absolute venom in his eyes, he got to his feet and drug Sam up by his hair. Fingers snarled in the long locks, he pulled Sam into the house. Sam stutter-stepped down the hallway, half bent to relieve some of the tension pulling at his hair roots. Reece flung open the door to the bathroom and threw Sam into the counter. His back landed against the edge and left his already suffering body winded.
“The rules are simple, Samuel. You are mine and you do not damage what’s mine. You have disregarded one and disobeyed the other. I can not ignore this. You broke the rules and there must be consequences.”
Retrieving a set of keys from his front pocket, Reece unlocked the left cabinet door and pulled a small metal contraption from a plastic bin along with a navy blue towel. He grabbed a still gasping Sam by the arm and shoved him down on the commode, dropping the towel on the floor between Sam’s feet. He knelt down on it and forced his way into the vee of Sam’s thighs. Sam crossed his hands over his exposed groin and tried to close his legs to deny his captor entrance, but his muscles were too weak to keep him out.
The shackles from the night before were still locked at the front and back of the shower; however, instead of attaching directly to the hooks, chains now connected the two pieces. Setting the device by his knee, Reece leaned over Sam’s bare leg and picked up the manacle closest then clasped it around Sam’s left wrist. The bound hand immediately went back to maintain his modesty.
“First things first.”
Reece grabbed Sam’s right hand, the movement spiking the pain and making his whole hand throb. His broken ring finger was purple and swollen, the puffiness bulging around the sides of the heavily fought for band. Reece moved the device closer and for the first time Sam got a good look at it. The thing looked like a torture device. About the size of an ice cream scoop, it had a similar design with a handle for the torturer’s comfort, but instead of a scoop there was a semi-circular bar that hinged to a piece containing a mini circular saw blade. A thumb crank handle protruded from the center of the blade at a right angle. Sam eyes widened. What the hell was that for?
Reece pushed the bar between Sam’s finger and the constricting metal of the ring. The teeth of the saw rested against the band and realization dawned on Sam. A ring cutter. Reece was going to cut off his ring.
“Please, no. No, I’ll be good. I promise. Please don’t cut it.”
“I think we are past the point that your begging will work on me.” The first turn of the crank left a deep gouge in the silver. Tears pooled in Sam’s eyes. “It’s not like you left me any choice on the matter. With the swelling, the ring is acting like a tourniquet and restricting the blood flow to your finger.” Another turn and the blade was half-way through the metal. “See how pale the tip has become already? If we don’t get the ring off, you could lose your finger.”
Two more turns and the blade clicked against the metal bar underneath the ring. Sliding the cutter free, Reece flipped Sam’s hand over and inserted it again to create a cut on the other side. A tear slid down Sam’s cheek when the blade made it through and hit the bar again, the ring falling from his hand in two halves.
Gathering the cut metal and tossing it in the garbage, Reece grinned at Sam. “Remember, Samuel, I always get my way.”
Reece put the cutter back in the bin under the sink then returned to Sam. He pulled the young man to his feet and guided him to the shower. Sam stood despondently by as his free hand was chained and he was washed in the same methodical manner as the previous night. The throb in his finger the only feeling in his numb body.
The towel was soft and Reece dried his skin thoroughly, his tender touches a contrast to his earlier actions. Reece unhooked the chains and led him to the bedroom. On the pillow was a smaller set of cuffs attached to a chain that looped around one of the headboard’s wooden slats. He placed the new bracelets around Sam’s wrists and removed the bulkier ones. “These are easier to sleep in, not so cumbersome. The chain is in a better location so you’ll have greater movement.”
Sitting next to Sam on the mattress, Reece heaved a sigh.
“I understand why you were reluctant to remove Dean’s ring. Last night’s cleansing was hard on you and the dehydration left you confused. Most people will revert to what they know when they are unsettled.” He brushed his hand over Sam’s broken finger, watching the wince that contorted his face. “I think this will be sufficient punishment for your disobedience. Next time I will not be so lenient and you will pray for a broken finger. You need to drink something.”
He reached over for one of the bottles of water on the nightstand. Lifting Sam’s head, he pressed the edge to Sam’s lips. This time when Sam didn’t open his mouth, Reece reverted to his successful tactic with the medicine. He pinched Sam’s nose shut and poured the water down his throat when his mouth opened. Sam sputtered, coughing up as much as he swallowed. When Reece got most of the water down, he let go of Sam’s nose and set the bottle on the nightstand.
“Sleep, Samuel,” Reece pushed a damp lock of hair off Sam’s forehead and leaned over to kiss the exposed skin. Sam pushed himself further into the pillow, shuddering at the intimate gesture. “I’ll check on you later.”
Sam stared at the ceiling until he heard the door shut. Looking up at the headboard, he sat up and examined it closer. The slats weren’t thick, a quarter of an inch at the most. Kneeling, he shoved one of the pillows behind the headboard and placed another over the slat the chain looped behind. He wound the linked metal around his forearms to lessen the slack and grasped it like horse reins, his broken finger screaming in protest and the healing scab on his hand tearing free. Taking a deep breath, he kicked the pillow hard. The feathered cushioning muted the crack of the wood breaking.
He gathered up the chain in his hand and walked to the dresser, blood from his newly opened wound running down his fingers. His knees nearly buckled under his weight, dehydration and exhaustion working against him. Digging through the drawers for clothes and finding boxers and a pair of shorts, he dressed quickly. The closet held a variety of shoes in his size and he selected a sturdy pair of sneakers. Grabbing the two full bottles of water on the nightstand, he shoved them in the cargo pockets on his shorts.
He padded to the door and cracked it open. The shower was running across the hall and Sam said a silent thanks for the bit of good luck. Bolting out of the room, he ran toward the front door. The bathroom door opened as he passed and he cursed. Reece hadn’t gotten in the shower yet. His legs trembled under the strain, but he willed himself faster as footsteps thundered behind him. He threw open the front door and made it to the top of the porch steps when something snagged his ankle. Sam fell forward down the stairs. His hands flew out to protect his face, but left the rest of his body unguarded. His thighs and ribs caught the edge of the steps, the water bottles in his pockets exploding under the force. His chest hurt, but it was the pain in his lower leg still in Reece’s grasp that made him go instantly nauseous.
Reece released his foot and stood, his voice steely calm. “I’m very disappointed, Samuel.”
Sam lifted up with his arms, pain flaring through his whole body and stealing his breath. His leg shifted and he felt the ends of his shin bone scrape together. He fell to his elbows, retching with nothing in his stomach to expel. Seeing Sam wasn’t able to stand, Reece reached down and picked the boy up bridal style.
Carrying him back to the house, Reece took him back to the bedroom and set him on the bed. Sam lay very still and tried to breathe through the overwhelming pain. His fingers laced over his shin, the warm blood from his palm leaving a smeared handprint on the swelling skin, and he rocked back and forth trying to keep the tears at bay.
Reece crossed to the closet and retrieved a box from the top shelf. “I agreed to give you time. Let you work through the lies he told you and realize that you’re safe now, but I can see that my logic was flawed. My hesitancy has failed to give you confidence in our relationship or your place in it. I told you that you were mine, but I never ensured that you believed it. Your uncertainty makes you crave what is familiar even when it is not what is right.” He opened the lid and removed two sets of handcuffs. His strong fingers encircled Sam’s wrist in a firm grasp that renewed the throbbing in his damaged finger. “I’m sorry, angel. I should have made it clearer.”
The pain in Sam’s finger pulsed with each heartbeat, a steady bass line to the constant melody that was the agony in his leg. The bite of cold metal around his wrist roused Sam from the painful tune zinging through his body. Several successive clicks and Sam knew he’d been secured to the headboard again. Looking up, he shook his arm and rattled the cuffs against the thick corner post. Reece learned quickly. In order to escape, Sam would either have to drag the bed with him or find a hacksaw.
“I’m going to show you, Sam, that you are mine. Remove any doubts you may have that you belong here with me.”
Large hands pushed and prodded him and he gasped when his body rocked forward on his injured leg. He panted, stunned by the shock of fire running from his ankle to his hip. His left arm was pulled from under him and Sam was tugged to the center of the bed, tears pooling unwanted in the corner of his eye as his body screamed at the change in position. Metal touched the skin of his left wrist and his arm was moved to the opposite corner of the king sized bed. Grunting at the stretch, Sam’s mind awakened from the overwhelming pain. He pulled his arm, trying to roll away from the man, his sapped strength doing little against the bruising grip on him. He kicked with his good leg, but his captor was too high on the bed for the appendage to reach him. Desperate, Sam leaned forward and clamped his teeth on the skin of Reece’s arm. Biting hard and releasing in rapid succession, Sam left a line of deep indents and dotted blood.
“Bastard,” Reece snarled. His grip tightened and Sam felt the small bones in his wrist rub together painfully. He continued to bite, moving down the arm to the hand that threatened to snap his wrist. A punch rocked his head into the mattress, but adrenaline softened the affects. The second blow left him dazed and Reece placed a restraining knee between his shoulder blades, holding him down. Mind clearing, Sam heard the snick as his other hand was secured to the other corner post.
The knee on his back slid down and Reece straddled his ribs. Hands smoothed over his skin, tracing the muscles of his shoulders and upper back. “So strong, so beautiful, so perfect.” Wet lips pressed against the round of one shoulder then the other.
Sam shuddered and bucked against the weight pressing him down. His chest, still sore from the fall on the stairs, ached at the added bulk. The erratic movements jarred his body, amping up the hum of pain coursing through him. He no longer recognized his individual injuries, only the system wide agony.
A throaty chuckle echoed in his ear. “And all mine.”
The pressure on his back disappeared and Sam gulped down a deep breath, unaware that he’d been unable to. Reece reached into the box and pulled three additional sets of cuffs from the cardboard. A hand worked its way under Sam and he felt the waistband of his shorts loosen and the zipper give way. His shorts and boxers were pulled roughly down his legs, his stomach rebelling at the jostling of his injured leg.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Sam gasped, panting around the pain. His bruised ribs ached with each inhale.
“Shhh, Samuel.” Threading his fingers through the silver loops, he ran the cold metal down Sam’s exposed skin - a meandering trail from his back, over his buttocks and along the inside of his thigh - then grabbed Sam’s uninjured leg.
Panic ran cold down his spine, stoking his fight or flight reflex. He knew what was coming, had known from the moment Reece placed the metal ring around his left wrist. Adrenaline shot through his veins and he kicked wildly, the blessed hormone dulling the pain as he shifted his broken leg. Reece lost his hold and Sam was able to connect two solid blows before his leg was pinned down. He pumped his leg, frantic to get free, frantic to prevent what he knew was going to happen, but a slap to his broken leg stilled him. A hard yank followed by unforgiving metal and his left leg was restrained. He screamed when his right leg was manipulated and a few clicks later he was cuffed face down, spread eagle on the bed.
Reece moved back to Sam’s head and stroked his bruising cheek. “Why must you force me to punish you?” His voice was soft and heart-broken. He leaned over and placed a tender kiss to the reddened skin. Stepping back, he quickly shed his clothes, the fabric puddling around his feet. Sam pressed his face into the pillow, eyes closed against the rapidly revealed skin.
Moving back to the side of the bed, Reece wound his fingers in Sam’s hair and pulled tight. “Is this how he showed his love for you? Do you need the pain to know the pleasure? Hmmm, my angel?” Untangling his fingers, he grabbed Sam’s jaw and turned his face toward him and kissed him, sucking and biting on Sam’s lips seeking a response.
Sam turned his head away from his captor’s intimate touch, the man’s nails raking over the skin on his neck. He jerked at his bonds, testing their strength, while trying to keep his injured leg as still as possible. Reece had connected the last two sets of handcuffs together to give Sam more slack on that leg, but it those few inches were minimal when struggling. “Dean never hurt me. You don’t hurt the ones you love,” Sam bit out, his voice thick with the unshed tears he’d swallowed.
Reece trailed his fingers over Sam’s skin, tracing each scar as he came across it. “Your body tells a different story, angel. Don’t worry. I can give you what you want, love you the way you need.” His fingers drifted to the cleft of Sam’s ass, parting the cheeks and delving down the crease.
Sam’s body and mind went crazy. His earlier knowledge hadn’t prepared him for the reality. He pulled at his fetters, heedless of the pain and further injury he was inflicting on his body. “No! Don’t! Please! God, no!” Ignoring his pleas, a dry finger roughly forced its way where only Dean belonged and Sam cried out at the pain of intrusion and sting of guilt. He’d given his body to Dean willingly and now this man was taking that gift forcefully.
“I’ll make you hurt so good, angel.”
Sam bit the pillow as a second finger followed the first. Burning pain, as sensitive tissues were torn, ripped through his body and he ground the material between his clenched teeth. He twisted his body trying to escape, the joints of his arms and leg screaming with each attempt. A few perfunctory jabs and the fingers left him. Sam opened his mouth to gasp for air, tears streaming unbidden down his face.
The nightstand drawer slid open and Sam heard the items within being shuffled. Reece tore a condom from the line of packets and pushed the drawer shut.
“Once we have you tested, this will no longer be an issue.” Reece held the white foil packet up for Sam to see.
Sam tugged weakly on the cuffs, his adrenaline high waning as his body reached exhaustion, the level too much for too long for him to maintain. He heard the snap of rubber as Reece applied the condom.
“These condoms are lubed, but I can get some that aren’t if you prefer it more…raw.” The mattress dipped between his spread legs and he felt the blunt tip of Reece’s member against his entrance.
“No! Please, no. Don’t!” Sam repeated his pleas and writhed on the bed, the cuffs clattering on the wooden corner posts. He shifted his hips to dislodge the foreign presence. His preparation had been too hasty and not nearly thorough enough. Even with the recent increase in his sex life, Sam was still new to penetration and Dean always took extra care to make sure that he was completely ready. He was never willing to hurt Sam more than the pleasure would outweigh. A strong hand slammed down on the small of his back while the other curled around his hip and held him firmly.
Reece thrust hard, fully seating himself in one move. Sam felt ripped open and split wide. The already abused tissue lanced pain up his spine that stole the breath from his heaving lungs. Giving no quarter, Reece pulled out and rammed back in hard. Sam’s body spasmed against his restraints, the calf of his broken leg stretching painfully without the length constraint the bone provided. The low level of pain he’d been riding crescendoed and he heard screaming. Darkness closed around his vision as his mind sought refuge from the pain. As the blackness veiled his vision, he realized he was the one screaming. One name on repeat.