Fic: Settling In - sequel to No Holds Barred, Jeff/Jensen PG-13
Title: Settling In
Author: dastiel_gal
Rating: PG-13 for discussion of sex and abuse
Genre: AU
Characters: Jensen, Samantha Ferris. Frequent mentions of Jeff/Jensen
Warnings Enticements: Sex slavery.
Word Count: 2,145.
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.
Summary: Samantha's helping Jensen settle into his new life as Jeff's body slave. Sequel to No Holds Barred.
Author’s Notes: This probably won't make sense unless you've read No Holds Barred. I just couldn't shake this story off; I was musing over it during my Sunday morning lie-in, and had to get up and start writing what was in my head! I've blatantly stolen names, language and concepts from the Firefly and Merchanter-Alliance universes - my apologies to Joss Whedon and C J Cherryh. Um, also, I've managed to write something that has no actual porn in it. I don't know how that happened, really. Sorry. Crossposted to jeff_jensen and spn_rps.
Download from AO3.
--oo00oo--
Samantha sets a steaming cup down in front of Jensen and slides into the seat opposite him.
"So, you never told me where you were from, originally."
Jensen bites back a sigh; he should be more surprised, really, that it's taken this long for the subject to come up. And it's not like he thinks Samantha's prying, exactly. She's been mothering him ever since he got here - at first, he thought it was mostly that she felt a kinship with him as the only other slave onboard, but he soon realized that she mother-hens the entire crew, Jeff included. And they had a fantastic time together when they stopped off at Esperance Station after that first lucrative run. Jeff had handed them a lavish fistful of credits each, and sent them off for the day with Saldana as bodyguard/co-conspirator. They'd torn through the port mall like a whirlwind, shedding credits and collecting packages as they went, had a blowout lunch at a fancy bistro, and then spent the afternoon wallowing and being massaged at the spa. Jensen had floated back to the ship, loose-limbed and smiling beatifically, and Jeff had laughed at him and then thrown him facedown on the bed and fucked him long and slow, just to round the day off perfectly.
Sam's still looking at him, waiting patiently for an answer. He's not going to get away with ignoring her; he owes her better than that, for one - and besides, it's an innocuous enough question. In itself.
"Uh. I was born and raised on Danson's World. Same system as Pell."
"Really?" Sam looks surprised. "You seemed so comfortable on Esperance, I assumed you were station-born."
"No, I'm a blue-skyer." He hesitates, not sure how much of this he wants to think about, much less talk about. "But I'm used to being on stations too; lots of times when we were in dock they'd take me off-ship to see ... clients. Some of them didn't want to be seen visiting a brothel."
Sam nods in understanding, and for a second he hopes she'll leave it there. Some chance.
"And you were press-ganged onto No Holds Barred? 'Cos I know you're not a born slave, not with a mouth like you've got."
Jensen nods, smiling wryly. She's not wrong; if he'd been raised in slavery, he'd've likely had the sass beaten out of him young.
"I was a slave already, though. My..." He stares into his cup, simultaneously wanting and not wanting to tell her everything. She's ridiculously easy to talk to, dammit. "My mother died when I was eight. She was deep in debt, and we didn't have any other family, so I was sequestrated by the public executor and sold to cover the debt and funeral charges."
Sam fidgets around, pouring herself a drink, her movements twitchy. Jensen suspects she's having second thoughts about where this conversation is heading. She's intelligent and worldly wise enough to have a damn good idea of the likely hardships of Jensen's life, especially on No Holds Barred, and for all her no-nonsense manner, her heart's too damn soft for her to listen without distress. After a pause, though, she swallows hard and carries on.
"You were sold as a... a body slave? At that age?"
"No, the minimum age on Danson's is 12. I was an errand boy. My owner had a country estate; there were dozens of slaves there." He smiles, remembering. It hadn't been bad at all. Minimal schooling, for one thing, and the master hadn't been one for physical punishment. The only time he got beaten, the whole seven years he was there, was when he'd knocked over and smashed an ornament while the master was off-world, and the overseer had taken his belt to him for it. "I was there for years. Thought I'd be there till I died; he was that sort of owner, his son too. Had a couple of elderly slaves still around who'd belonged to his grandfather. They did household mending, a little book-keeping."
"Sounds like a good life, kid. What happened?"
Jensen sighs, gustily. "Went into town with the cook, to help her carry things back to the transporter. She sent me across to the port to get a package that was there for the master, while she was waiting in line at the wine merchant's. I'm walking past rows and rows of containers to get to the port office, and all of a sudden, somebody jumps out from between the rows and grabs me. Next thing I know, I wake up on No Holds Barred, groggy as all hell, and we're in warp drive, half-way to the next star."
Sam shakes her head. "Bastards."
"Yeah." Jensen chews on his bottom lip. "Look, I don't want to get into that, you know? It's over. I'm here now." He knows it's not that easy; he may not be living it any more, thank fuck, but it sure as hell ain't over in the depths of his psyche. But he's so not gorram ready to start picking at that. He wants to pack it away and lock it up good, and not get it out again for years. If ever.
Thankfully, Sam's as eager to turn her thoughts to more cheerful matters as he is.
"Well, kid, this might not be as easy a ride as your first gig, but I think you already know you've fallen on your feet here. It's not like being a free person, but if you've gotta be a slave, you could do a lot worse than the Petit Bisou."
He nods. He'd been anxiety-ridden about it at first, flat-out gutted to have escaped from one master, only to find himself promptly re-enslaved by a completely unknown quantity. And still in the realm of sex-slavery, which had made his heart sink like a stone. But even in his initial dejection, he'd been pretty sure it would be a helluva lot easier to please just one master than the bastard owner, dozens of brutish guards and one or two clients a day he'd had to deal with on No Holds Barred. (And even then, he'd been lucky; they were careful not to wear out the top-deck slaves with overwork. Sure, he got the kinkiest of the fuckers as clients, and longer sessions, but he'd rather that than the dozen clients a day that would have been his lot on the lower decks.)
"Yeah, I know. This is a really good crew. Well, except for Elba, maybe."
Sam laughs. "Well, you know, even Elba has a couple of good points. He may be an asshole to you onboard, but if there's ever trouble off-ship, believe me, he's the guy you want fighting your corner. And he will. You're crew, even if he doesn't like you."
Jensen snickers into his cooling coffee. "He's allowed to give me shit, but no-one else is? Yeah, that sounds about right."
"Apart from Jeff."
"Well, obviously."
"So..." Oh, crap, he knows what's coming. "... Jeff."
He scowls at her. "Stars, Sam, what do you want, a blow-by-blow account?"
She laughs. "Oh, honey, I don't hardly need one. You are loud."
Jensen turns scarlet, even though he was already pretty sure the rest of the crew must have heard him with Jeff. Quite a few times, actually. This ship's kinda bare-bones; very few carpeted areas or soft furnishings, so noise travels. Plus, Jeff likes it - really likes it - when he lets it all out. And it's obviously in his best interests to keep Jeff happy. Whatever. He huffs.
"Besides," continues Sam, "I've been there, done that. I know how he rolls."
Jensen jerks his eyes up to her, shocked and unwarrantedly pissed at this revelation. "What?"
"You didn't know? For a year or two after I joined the ship. Aw, come on, Jensen, you must have figured out by now that he likes women too?"
Jensen had figured that out, yes. He's seen the way Jeff looks at pretty women, and in general it doesn't bother him at all. In fact, he's kinda surprised that a threesome hasn't been sprung on him yet; he can see that one coming a mile off, and Jeff seems to have a curvy, bouncy sometime-friend-with-benefits in every port. Sam's a little close to home, though, and he's not best pleased to have potential competition right on board. It makes his position less secure.
"Yeah, but..." He glares at her, stormy-eyed.
Sam's eyes soften. "No, no, hey, kid. It's nothing you need to worry about. Over long ago, and we'd never go there again. It's too far in the past, it would just be weird."
"But if Jeff wanted to... He still owns you, Sam. Not like you'd have a say."
"He wouldn't make me. Yeah, I know that probably sounds unbelievable to you, coming off that ship; and Jeff's pretty bullish about getting what he wants, so I can just imagine how it went down when he found you sitting in his hold. But come on. Don't you have a mirror in your cabin?" She shakes her head fondly. "I'm pretty gorram hot for a forty-something broad, but he's not gonna bother with me when he has you in his bed."
That makes Jensen feel somewhat better. And now he thinks about it, friends-with-benefits and potential threesomes aside, Jeff is already fixing to become a possessive bastard when it comes to Jensen. That slimy fucker Badger had the temerity to ask for a night with him as a sweetener to their current deal, and the look that put on Jeff''s face was nothing short of murderous. It wasn't a completely unreasonable request - some people do lend out their body slaves to friends and business associates. Jensen had disliked Badger on sight, though, and it was deeply satisfying to watch him back-pedal rapidly with an uncharacteristic profusion of apologies. Not that Jensen let it show in his face, of course; he knows how a body slave should act in public, and he plays the part beautifully.
But he got a little warm thrill in his belly when Jeff shifted half in front of Jensen and clamped one hand on his wrist... then concluded his business as quickly as possible, hauled Jensen back to the Petit Bisou post-haste, and barely waited for the hold door to close behind them before he started tearing Jensen's clothes undone. Fucked him right there in the cargo bay with nothing more than a dribble of spit and the remains of last night's slick to smooth his way in, and a hand over Jensen's mouth so the crew wouldn't come running at the first shout. Jensen's been fucked in front of other people more times than he'd care to count, but it was surprisingly kinky and insanely hot to do it out in the middle of the ship like that, where any of the crew could have walked in at any moment. He can't make up his mind, at all, whether he's glad or sorry that none of them did.
He's so busy remembering the drag of Jeff's cock sliding half-dry across his prostate, his asshole clenching hotly at the memory, that he misses Sam's next question, and has to ask for a repeat.
"We all know you're getting on fine with Jeff from the point of view of your... primary function." She smirks, and Jensen snorts. "But other than that, how do you like him?"
Jensen muses on that. Jeff's a pretty generous master, all told. Jensen's got his own cabin, and for the first time ever, privacy; Jeff never sets foot in there. After the first couple of trips, he even quit locking Jensen in when they're in port. Legally, the things Jeff buys him (or the things he buys himself with Jeff's money) still belong to his owner, but he's pretty sure that's not actually gonna be an issue on this ship - Sam seems to have possessions which have been "hers" for years, and which are referred to and respected as such by the rest of the crew. Also, Jensen gets to wear a full set of clothes any time he's not alone with Jeff, and stars - not having his "primary function" constantly announced and emphasized in public to crew and strangers alike by a state of semi-undress has really done wonders for his social confidence and stress levels.
Jeff's made him a personal body slave, to a ship's captain no less, which is about ten steps up the ladder from a brothel whore who can be bought by anyone with sufficient credit. A pampered body slave, even, if Esperance can be taken as a precendent.
Jeff doesn't treat him as an equal, but nor does he treat him badly. He's well fed, well fucked and never beaten. Not that he doesn't get the flat of Jeff's hand across his cheek when his smart mouth goes too far, or sometimes raining down on his ass when they're screwing; but after five years on No Holds Barred, Jensen's got a pain kink a mile wide, so that just works like foreplay for him. Doesn't even count. Jeff's all barked orders and bossiness, and given their respective sexual tendencies, that works out pretty well all around. Jensen'd never enjoyed sex much until now, despite having eventually learned how to get off even under vastly suboptimal circumstances; but it's a whole new experience with Jeff.
He's getting to see the galaxy. In style, even, when they're flush from a thoroughly illegal job-well-done. On the whole, belonging to Jeff seems like a very good thing indeed.
"I like him just fine, actually."
"But especially that big, thick cock, right?"
Jensen's taken unawares by such an unexpectedly filthy comment from the normally-circumspect Sam, and spits his last mouthful of coffee inelegantly across the table. They burst into laughter, and Jensen's wiping ineffectually at the spill when the door opens.
"Glad to see you two are having fun instead of working. Get off your asses, you layabouts! Sam, dinner better not be late. Jensen, my cabin, now."
Jensen rises with alacrity, winks cheekily at Sam, and goes to prepare himself for his master.
★
Author: dastiel_gal
Rating: PG-13 for discussion of sex and abuse
Genre: AU
Characters: Jensen, Samantha Ferris. Frequent mentions of Jeff/Jensen
Warnings Enticements: Sex slavery.
Word Count: 2,145.
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.
Summary: Samantha's helping Jensen settle into his new life as Jeff's body slave. Sequel to No Holds Barred.
Author’s Notes: This probably won't make sense unless you've read No Holds Barred. I just couldn't shake this story off; I was musing over it during my Sunday morning lie-in, and had to get up and start writing what was in my head! I've blatantly stolen names, language and concepts from the Firefly and Merchanter-Alliance universes - my apologies to Joss Whedon and C J Cherryh. Um, also, I've managed to write something that has no actual porn in it. I don't know how that happened, really. Sorry. Crossposted to jeff_jensen and spn_rps.
Download from AO3.
--oo00oo--
Samantha sets a steaming cup down in front of Jensen and slides into the seat opposite him.
"So, you never told me where you were from, originally."
Jensen bites back a sigh; he should be more surprised, really, that it's taken this long for the subject to come up. And it's not like he thinks Samantha's prying, exactly. She's been mothering him ever since he got here - at first, he thought it was mostly that she felt a kinship with him as the only other slave onboard, but he soon realized that she mother-hens the entire crew, Jeff included. And they had a fantastic time together when they stopped off at Esperance Station after that first lucrative run. Jeff had handed them a lavish fistful of credits each, and sent them off for the day with Saldana as bodyguard/co-conspirator. They'd torn through the port mall like a whirlwind, shedding credits and collecting packages as they went, had a blowout lunch at a fancy bistro, and then spent the afternoon wallowing and being massaged at the spa. Jensen had floated back to the ship, loose-limbed and smiling beatifically, and Jeff had laughed at him and then thrown him facedown on the bed and fucked him long and slow, just to round the day off perfectly.
Sam's still looking at him, waiting patiently for an answer. He's not going to get away with ignoring her; he owes her better than that, for one - and besides, it's an innocuous enough question. In itself.
"Uh. I was born and raised on Danson's World. Same system as Pell."
"Really?" Sam looks surprised. "You seemed so comfortable on Esperance, I assumed you were station-born."
"No, I'm a blue-skyer." He hesitates, not sure how much of this he wants to think about, much less talk about. "But I'm used to being on stations too; lots of times when we were in dock they'd take me off-ship to see ... clients. Some of them didn't want to be seen visiting a brothel."
Sam nods in understanding, and for a second he hopes she'll leave it there. Some chance.
"And you were press-ganged onto No Holds Barred? 'Cos I know you're not a born slave, not with a mouth like you've got."
Jensen nods, smiling wryly. She's not wrong; if he'd been raised in slavery, he'd've likely had the sass beaten out of him young.
"I was a slave already, though. My..." He stares into his cup, simultaneously wanting and not wanting to tell her everything. She's ridiculously easy to talk to, dammit. "My mother died when I was eight. She was deep in debt, and we didn't have any other family, so I was sequestrated by the public executor and sold to cover the debt and funeral charges."
Sam fidgets around, pouring herself a drink, her movements twitchy. Jensen suspects she's having second thoughts about where this conversation is heading. She's intelligent and worldly wise enough to have a damn good idea of the likely hardships of Jensen's life, especially on No Holds Barred, and for all her no-nonsense manner, her heart's too damn soft for her to listen without distress. After a pause, though, she swallows hard and carries on.
"You were sold as a... a body slave? At that age?"
"No, the minimum age on Danson's is 12. I was an errand boy. My owner had a country estate; there were dozens of slaves there." He smiles, remembering. It hadn't been bad at all. Minimal schooling, for one thing, and the master hadn't been one for physical punishment. The only time he got beaten, the whole seven years he was there, was when he'd knocked over and smashed an ornament while the master was off-world, and the overseer had taken his belt to him for it. "I was there for years. Thought I'd be there till I died; he was that sort of owner, his son too. Had a couple of elderly slaves still around who'd belonged to his grandfather. They did household mending, a little book-keeping."
"Sounds like a good life, kid. What happened?"
Jensen sighs, gustily. "Went into town with the cook, to help her carry things back to the transporter. She sent me across to the port to get a package that was there for the master, while she was waiting in line at the wine merchant's. I'm walking past rows and rows of containers to get to the port office, and all of a sudden, somebody jumps out from between the rows and grabs me. Next thing I know, I wake up on No Holds Barred, groggy as all hell, and we're in warp drive, half-way to the next star."
Sam shakes her head. "Bastards."
"Yeah." Jensen chews on his bottom lip. "Look, I don't want to get into that, you know? It's over. I'm here now." He knows it's not that easy; he may not be living it any more, thank fuck, but it sure as hell ain't over in the depths of his psyche. But he's so not gorram ready to start picking at that. He wants to pack it away and lock it up good, and not get it out again for years. If ever.
Thankfully, Sam's as eager to turn her thoughts to more cheerful matters as he is.
"Well, kid, this might not be as easy a ride as your first gig, but I think you already know you've fallen on your feet here. It's not like being a free person, but if you've gotta be a slave, you could do a lot worse than the Petit Bisou."
He nods. He'd been anxiety-ridden about it at first, flat-out gutted to have escaped from one master, only to find himself promptly re-enslaved by a completely unknown quantity. And still in the realm of sex-slavery, which had made his heart sink like a stone. But even in his initial dejection, he'd been pretty sure it would be a helluva lot easier to please just one master than the bastard owner, dozens of brutish guards and one or two clients a day he'd had to deal with on No Holds Barred. (And even then, he'd been lucky; they were careful not to wear out the top-deck slaves with overwork. Sure, he got the kinkiest of the fuckers as clients, and longer sessions, but he'd rather that than the dozen clients a day that would have been his lot on the lower decks.)
"Yeah, I know. This is a really good crew. Well, except for Elba, maybe."
Sam laughs. "Well, you know, even Elba has a couple of good points. He may be an asshole to you onboard, but if there's ever trouble off-ship, believe me, he's the guy you want fighting your corner. And he will. You're crew, even if he doesn't like you."
Jensen snickers into his cooling coffee. "He's allowed to give me shit, but no-one else is? Yeah, that sounds about right."
"Apart from Jeff."
"Well, obviously."
"So..." Oh, crap, he knows what's coming. "... Jeff."
He scowls at her. "Stars, Sam, what do you want, a blow-by-blow account?"
She laughs. "Oh, honey, I don't hardly need one. You are loud."
Jensen turns scarlet, even though he was already pretty sure the rest of the crew must have heard him with Jeff. Quite a few times, actually. This ship's kinda bare-bones; very few carpeted areas or soft furnishings, so noise travels. Plus, Jeff likes it - really likes it - when he lets it all out. And it's obviously in his best interests to keep Jeff happy. Whatever. He huffs.
"Besides," continues Sam, "I've been there, done that. I know how he rolls."
Jensen jerks his eyes up to her, shocked and unwarrantedly pissed at this revelation. "What?"
"You didn't know? For a year or two after I joined the ship. Aw, come on, Jensen, you must have figured out by now that he likes women too?"
Jensen had figured that out, yes. He's seen the way Jeff looks at pretty women, and in general it doesn't bother him at all. In fact, he's kinda surprised that a threesome hasn't been sprung on him yet; he can see that one coming a mile off, and Jeff seems to have a curvy, bouncy sometime-friend-with-benefits in every port. Sam's a little close to home, though, and he's not best pleased to have potential competition right on board. It makes his position less secure.
"Yeah, but..." He glares at her, stormy-eyed.
Sam's eyes soften. "No, no, hey, kid. It's nothing you need to worry about. Over long ago, and we'd never go there again. It's too far in the past, it would just be weird."
"But if Jeff wanted to... He still owns you, Sam. Not like you'd have a say."
"He wouldn't make me. Yeah, I know that probably sounds unbelievable to you, coming off that ship; and Jeff's pretty bullish about getting what he wants, so I can just imagine how it went down when he found you sitting in his hold. But come on. Don't you have a mirror in your cabin?" She shakes her head fondly. "I'm pretty gorram hot for a forty-something broad, but he's not gonna bother with me when he has you in his bed."
That makes Jensen feel somewhat better. And now he thinks about it, friends-with-benefits and potential threesomes aside, Jeff is already fixing to become a possessive bastard when it comes to Jensen. That slimy fucker Badger had the temerity to ask for a night with him as a sweetener to their current deal, and the look that put on Jeff''s face was nothing short of murderous. It wasn't a completely unreasonable request - some people do lend out their body slaves to friends and business associates. Jensen had disliked Badger on sight, though, and it was deeply satisfying to watch him back-pedal rapidly with an uncharacteristic profusion of apologies. Not that Jensen let it show in his face, of course; he knows how a body slave should act in public, and he plays the part beautifully.
But he got a little warm thrill in his belly when Jeff shifted half in front of Jensen and clamped one hand on his wrist... then concluded his business as quickly as possible, hauled Jensen back to the Petit Bisou post-haste, and barely waited for the hold door to close behind them before he started tearing Jensen's clothes undone. Fucked him right there in the cargo bay with nothing more than a dribble of spit and the remains of last night's slick to smooth his way in, and a hand over Jensen's mouth so the crew wouldn't come running at the first shout. Jensen's been fucked in front of other people more times than he'd care to count, but it was surprisingly kinky and insanely hot to do it out in the middle of the ship like that, where any of the crew could have walked in at any moment. He can't make up his mind, at all, whether he's glad or sorry that none of them did.
He's so busy remembering the drag of Jeff's cock sliding half-dry across his prostate, his asshole clenching hotly at the memory, that he misses Sam's next question, and has to ask for a repeat.
"We all know you're getting on fine with Jeff from the point of view of your... primary function." She smirks, and Jensen snorts. "But other than that, how do you like him?"
Jensen muses on that. Jeff's a pretty generous master, all told. Jensen's got his own cabin, and for the first time ever, privacy; Jeff never sets foot in there. After the first couple of trips, he even quit locking Jensen in when they're in port. Legally, the things Jeff buys him (or the things he buys himself with Jeff's money) still belong to his owner, but he's pretty sure that's not actually gonna be an issue on this ship - Sam seems to have possessions which have been "hers" for years, and which are referred to and respected as such by the rest of the crew. Also, Jensen gets to wear a full set of clothes any time he's not alone with Jeff, and stars - not having his "primary function" constantly announced and emphasized in public to crew and strangers alike by a state of semi-undress has really done wonders for his social confidence and stress levels.
Jeff's made him a personal body slave, to a ship's captain no less, which is about ten steps up the ladder from a brothel whore who can be bought by anyone with sufficient credit. A pampered body slave, even, if Esperance can be taken as a precendent.
Jeff doesn't treat him as an equal, but nor does he treat him badly. He's well fed, well fucked and never beaten. Not that he doesn't get the flat of Jeff's hand across his cheek when his smart mouth goes too far, or sometimes raining down on his ass when they're screwing; but after five years on No Holds Barred, Jensen's got a pain kink a mile wide, so that just works like foreplay for him. Doesn't even count. Jeff's all barked orders and bossiness, and given their respective sexual tendencies, that works out pretty well all around. Jensen'd never enjoyed sex much until now, despite having eventually learned how to get off even under vastly suboptimal circumstances; but it's a whole new experience with Jeff.
He's getting to see the galaxy. In style, even, when they're flush from a thoroughly illegal job-well-done. On the whole, belonging to Jeff seems like a very good thing indeed.
"I like him just fine, actually."
"But especially that big, thick cock, right?"
Jensen's taken unawares by such an unexpectedly filthy comment from the normally-circumspect Sam, and spits his last mouthful of coffee inelegantly across the table. They burst into laughter, and Jensen's wiping ineffectually at the spill when the door opens.
"Glad to see you two are having fun instead of working. Get off your asses, you layabouts! Sam, dinner better not be late. Jensen, my cabin, now."
Jensen rises with alacrity, winks cheekily at Sam, and goes to prepare himself for his master.
★