writingbyebonio | Fanfic - SPN: Training Day - Ch.5

Title: Training Day [Evil!Sammy Universe]
Author:

eboniorchid
Full Header for the Series

Chapter Five: The Destined Fuck
[036.Enthralled]

Dean quieted, closing his eyes and his mouth, and he let himself fall into the depths of some natural high that was flooding his mind and making him almost light-headed, his body throbbing in a way he'd never felt before. Sam's fingers ghosted over the marks he had whipped into his skin and Dean heard the soft rustle of Sam's boxers hitting the floor. He couldn't help that he started shivering, from pain and fear and maybe something else, when Sam wrapped himself around him, Sam's cock a hard thick line against his lower back.

"You're still excited." Sam scoffed and seemed amazed, or maybe amused. "I knew you liked it a bit rough and that you could take a lot, but … I didn't realize you'd still be wanting to come even this much after I made you cry like some little bitch."

Sam's hand slid down to brush gently over Dean's half-hard cock as Sam kissed up and down his right ear. And Dean was still so damn sensitive that he gasped, instinctively pushing up into the contact, as his cock swelled rapidly back to readiness. Sam's hand on his cock was warm, making every place that it touched pulsate with need. He'd been hard for so long without any contact there and his body was ripe for release. But there was still so much pain throbbing through him and if- … if Sam wasn't done, then he'd just- … This was all too much sensation, too much anything, and he just- … wanted to get away, just- … wanted to not have anyone touch him, just- … away.

"Please just- … leave it, okay? … Sam- … sir- … just- … don't, okay? … Please."

"Or what, whore? … Or what?"

Dean looked down, holding to silence, shoulders slumping. There was no 'what'. He had nothing he could do if Sam didn't stop. He didn't have the right to move Sam's hand. He didn't even have the right to move his own body away from all the contact. He couldn't remove the toys that Sam used to keep him overstimulated. He couldn't do anything. He was just property, just a whore. At least- … that was what he was in Sam's eyes and Sam wouldn't tolerate resistance. They'd been through that already. Resistance now would just mean even more lashings and there was no way he would set himself up for that again if he could help it.

"Yeah. … The answer to that would be 'nothing'. … But that's okay. I'll let you pay for that tomorrow, whore. I know you're coming out of a pretty mild punishment, but it's your first time, so you're a little more spacey than you're used to. I get that. You'll learn to handle it better, though, that rush that comes on the heels of the pain. Because you and me? We're going to play with pain a lot together."

Dean could feel Sam's nod at his neck and his breathing speed jumped up a notch, but he kept his mouth shut. Sam sounded like he might be done punishing him tonight at least … and that had to be enough for now.

"How much you can take, how much you love it? That's just icing on the cake, Dean, just one more bit of proof that you're meant to be my whore. It just fits you so fucking well. Like when you let go, just a minute ago, when you stopped trying to be something you're not? It was so damn hot. … I liked that a lot, whore, the way you begged for me just then. I want to hear that all the time. Understand?"

Dean knew his body was shaky, but he tried to steady his voice. "Yes, sir."

"And I also expect you to show some gratitude for receiving the discipline you needed today."

Dean huffed out air, his brain struggling to compute the request. He was supposed to appreciate the pain, like it was some kind of favor? But … maybe it was, even after all that. Sam just as easily could have given up on disciplining him and chosen to drug him instead. It was a fucked up kind of favor, but the pain was better than the drugs, right? Yeah. Yeah, it had to be. It didn't make thanking his brother for a beating all that much easier, but he stumbled through the words, wishing he were anywhere but here.

"Thank you … sir … for giving me … the discipline … that I needed today."

"You're welcome, whore. I'm always willing to discipline you, if that's what you need. So request it when you need it and you'll probably save yourself from getting into more trouble than you can handle. Got that, whore?"

"Yes, sir."

"I mean that, Dean. If you start to feel like you're having difficulty controlling your urge to say or do something stupid, then let me know and I'll take you down, help you remember what you are, before you make me question the idea of you living sober again."

"Yes, sir." He couldn't really see himself asking his brother to punish him, but he knew that he didn't want to be forced back onto the drug, so he couldn't say it would never happen.

"Good. … Now then, when I asked you, yesterday, and the day before, if you understood your status, you lied to me, didn't you?"

He hadn't really known that he was lying. He'd thought that he understood, but he really hadn't. He'd said 'property', said 'whore', but in his head, the actual working definitions of those words came out looking much more like 'prisoner' and 'sometimes unwilling lover'. When Sam said 'property' and 'whore', though, he quite literally seemed to mean 'object I own, that I use for sexual purposes'. So, no, he hadn't understood his status at all.

"I didn't … mean to … sir. I just- … I thought I knew … but I didn't."

"No, you didn't. That's obvious. And you didn't even begin to believe the truth of that status, did you?"

"No, sir. I- … it was hard for me to … process."

"Yeah, I can tell. You needed a lot of discipline today. … And I know you'll need more tomorrow. Because you still don't believe it, do you? Be honest. I'll know if you're lying."

Part of him wished he could just say that he believed what Sam did, about his new status, about his new place in the world, so he wouldn't have to take more discipline at Sam's hands. But he just didn't believe it. Not completely. Not like that. He couldn't believe it, wouldn't let himself believe it. This world was a false one, a nightmare given life by the Fallen and others, like his brother, who they had warped in their own image.

"I- …" He swallowed, but told the truth. "No."

"Well, we'll keep working on it until you do, Dean … starting with me fucking you … just like you begged me to."

Then Dean cried out, tipping forward to counter the piercing pain in his chest, as Sam pulled slowly, but not gently, down on the chain hanging between his nipples.

"Hands and knees, whore."

Dean's head sank heavily between his shoulders, as he put his hands down on the bed and put his ass in the air. Sam released the chain, but slid the heat of his powers roughly into his body, scraping like unwashed wool against his heart and lungs.

"Crawl up to the pillows and spread those legs for me."

Dean blinked slowly, panting through the ache as he crawled forward, and when he'd done as he was told, he felt Sam climb onto the bed. Sam kneeled up behind him, his hands running over Dean's back again, drawing out shudders, before reaching down to twist out the vibrating toy, making Dean squirm and groan. Then there was no preamble, no extra lube, and no talking smack, just Sam's dick pressing steadily into his ass.

Sam's thrusts were slow and deliberate, pressing inward and down across Dean's oversensitive prostate and Dean's cock strained like it was trying to grow another inch up and another around. Dean ached everywhere, but his ass ached for this, for this fuck. Sam's slow grind into him made his breathing stutter, his pulse race, and his cock throb for attention. The constant soft swing of the chain between his nipples, though, still sent short shocks of pain through him that were too much to ignore, despite the points of pleasure that were ruling his senses and the daze that was clouding his mind.

Dean leaned his upper body closer to the bed, going to his elbows and dropping his head to the pillows. He set the chain at his chest down on the sheet with a sigh, lessening gravity's hold on his abused nipples. Sam's hands were firm on his hips and with the easy pace of Sam's movements, there was nothing to really jar the chain out of place. The ache of Sam's power even eased, settling inside him, not grating against anything anymore, just present and living, like the weight of a cat that curled up on his chest.

His back seemed to throb with his pulse and he knew welts and bruises were blooming there, but he found himself enjoying the sex itself almost like it was any other fuck. The lead in had been hard, but now Sam was just steady pushing in and steady pulling out, only to do it all over again, Sam's murmurs and moans floating somewhere over his head. It was almost hypnotic, the sliding fullness of cock in and out of his ass, and he was okay now.

Really, he was more than okay, he was practically flying, his body overcompensating for the pain. In his head, he could hear the beat of his blood, pumping, almost in slow motion, through his system, and it was amplified by the throb in his chest, in his back, in his cock. The slow cadence of Sam's movements matched that beat almost perfectly, and even with his dick aching for release, he felt his mind drifting, his body no longer so much enduring as just existing.

It was easier than he'd thought, not fighting it, just taking it, not asking for mercy, just knowing there wouldn't be any. He'd been right when he'd thought that the sex would be pretty easy to handle. A little laugh gurgled up into the pillow, muffled. He just hadn't realized the line between the 'sex' and the 'pain' would be so blurred that even he would get confused about 'what was supposed to feel good' and 'what was supposed to feel bad'. Another little laugh threatened to tumble out of his mouth, but he pushed it down, his stomach quaking gently. He had to stay still, be good, then maybe Sam would let him come … or at least he'd let him sleep. Sleep would be good. Maybe Sammy would be there. Yeah. He just had to be good, then he could rest for a while and see Sammy.

"Dean … ? … Are you still with me?"

"Yes … sir." His voice sounded strange in his head, like his mouth was sticky with taffy and wouldn't open quickly enough.

Sam snickered, rocking his hips against his ass, not quite thrusting in or pulling out. "It's good, isn't it, whore?"

Dean didn't know what exactly Sam was talking about, but answers requiring the least thought usually went over just fine. "Yes, sir."

"Is this the fuck you were begging for, whore?"

He'd only been on a boat a few times, but this rocking motion was what he remembered most. It was okay. He could handle this. "Yes, sir."

"You want me to keep fucking you?"

"Y- …" His brain worked to unknot itself, trying to understand if this was a trick question. He was supposed to be property. Sam wouldn't ask a chair if it wanted to be used, so- … he hadn't thought that he had much choice in the matter. Honestly, though, he was exhausted, and a quick come just wasn't worth all of this. "Would you … stop … if I said no?"

"You'd be lying … so … no."

Then why even ask the question? "Then just- … finish taking what you want, Sam." The words cracked in his throat, a flash of despair stealing away some of the mellow he'd been drowning in.

"You're right."

Sam slid almost entirely out of him, but then Dean cried out as Sam slammed into him hard enough to make his eyes water and overwhelm his waning high with the burn of a rough entry.

"You're meant to be my whore, so … you're meant to take everything I can give."

Sam pulled back only to drive into him again, as if to break him, and Dean grunted into the pillow, all thoughts shattering around the soreness in ass. Sam set up a brutal rhythm, then, pounding into Dean over and over, relentless, and Dean could barely bring in oxygen fast enough and he wasn't the only one having trouble keeping up with the pace. Sam's words were all raspy or groaned, his voice thoroughly wrecked.

"Fuck. … Love fucking your- … tight little hole."

One of Sam's hands stayed at Dean's hip, keeping Dean right where he wanted him, but Dean couldn't stop the keening noise that fell out of his mouth as the fingers of Sam's other hand slid up to trace wide figure eights, like jagged rocks, over his abused skin. Somehow, though, the nerves in his back had their circuits crossed with the ones linked to his dick, because it throbbed and jumped with every play of Sam's hands there, making every breath a gasp.

"You were fucking made for this."

Sam was fucking into him so violently it felt like it was bruising his insides, but his cock was still achingly hard and when he looked down, he could see the shine of precome on the head of his dick as it bounced with Sam's thrusts. Fuck, … it was sick how much he wanted a hand on his cock right then, to feel the shift and pull as Sam fucked the thought right out of his brain. He lifted his head, breathing hard, and hoped that Sam would be done soon, that he would let him come soon. His dick would put out easy. He only needed a little friction and a little slide.

"Mmmm yeah." Sam slowed his thrusts, ramming his cock into Dean's ass once more, making him grunt, then rolling his hips with his dick buried deep. "Tell me what you are, Dean."

Sam's power inside him unfurled, adding an internal pressure to the many aches in his body and letting Dean know that Sam would allow no leeway on this. He didn't even try to fight, he just gasped the words into the heated air around them. "Pr- property … whore."

"That's right." Sam pulled back only to slam in again, groaning over him. "Oh yeah. …When and where?"

Dean tried not to let the words tear into him, but they fell out, half-choked. "Always … ev- everywhere."

"Fuck yes. …. My whore. … Always."

Sam was riding into him again, steady, but now the pace was more bearable, almost pleasurable, sitting at some midpoint between the way they'd started and the way they'd just finished. And the whole of Sam's hand was brushing over the sore spots on his back, making his breath creak, but sending a tremor of need down to his cock. He wished he could stop, stop this, stop himself, because- … only a whore would- … He just shouldn't be able to want this.

But then Sam slid his hand down his back and over his side to wind fingers around his cock. He stroked slowly, but it was still plenty fast enough to make the tempo of Dean's breath increase exponentially.

"Beg me to let you come, whore."

Dean fought to think through the haze of shame and pleasure and pain. He wanted release, but, more than that, if Sam was going to let him come, then maybe this was almost done, maybe Sam was almost done with him tonight, and Dean would beg for that, for this to be done.

"Please … sir. Please let me- come … please. Please just- … oh god … let me come … please."

Sam continued jacking him off and Dean could feel the first tingles in his sac that said his cock was loving this, even if he was having a tough time wrapping his brain around everything. Then the hand Sam had at his waist snuck up to his chest and snapped off one clamp, then the other, quickly. And Dean howled, his nipples screaming with pain as if Sam had cut into them instead of freeing them from the pinch of metal. Sam's hand was rubbing over his chest, then, and he couldn't tell if the ache was purely from pain or if it was some overload of pleasure, but the sensations were all too strong.

"Please no more … it's- … oh god … too much … please … sir … please just- … please no more."

But then Sam rolled one of those hypersensitized nipples between his thumb and forefinger and Dean arched up and back, into Sam, his breath a stuttered "oh".

"See that, Dean. See how your body responds to me. … You love this."

It felt like his body was just one live nerve, some living instrument that Sam could play any way he pleased. Dean could hate how he got this way, hate what all this meant, but fuck if right then it didn't seem like maybe, in some fucked up way, he- … no. But then Sam tightened his grip on his dick, and even with the aches all over and inside his body, the tightening of muscles rolling up from his gut told him that his cock was ready to burst. His words came out panted as he pleaded to be allowed to come.

"Please … fuck … just- … sir, please- … please let me- … please let me come."

Dean felt Sam shift, leaning in close, as his cock slid in and out of Sam's fist, sending rising swirls of pleasure up his body.

"Please just-"

"You'll come when I tell you to, whore. … I am gonna let you come a little early, because you're being such a good little whore for me right now and I don't mind rewarding good behavior. … But I'm still gonna fuck your hot little ass to pieces."

Sam pumped his fist over Dean's cock, his strokes quick and rough, driving into Dean from behind and driving Dean out of his mind with the intensity of his rising orgasm.

"Oh fuck … please-"

"You know you fucking love this, whore. … Show me."

Dean's breathing was erratic and, fuck, he could feel the trembling beginnings of orgasm, fanning out like shockwaves from his dick. He felt Sam twist over the head of his cock and he rapidly fucked himself into a frenzy, back onto Sam's cock and up into the hot slide of Sam's hand.

"Please- … please-"

Then Sam's voice was low and warm on his neck. "Come for me."

And Dean shuddered, groaning long and loud into the pillows, his orgasm overtaking him. His cock jerked with the force of each spurt of come as pleasure rolled through him, washing up his body like warm water and massaging itself deep into his muscles.

He heard Sam's labored breaths, as if from a distance, as Sam kept driving into him, and he exhaled, almost yawning, as the aftermath of ecstasy left him spent, nearly a ragdoll in Sam's arms. His shaky legs were barely holding him up and Sam kept fucking into his overtaxed body, no more gently than before, until Dean thought that he might collapse. But then Sam's thrusts lost their rhythm, stuttering, then stopping with a low moan as he felt the hot wet rush of Sam's come deep in his ass.

Sam held his position a few moments longer, his breath a breeze over Dean's sweat-drenched skin. Then he pulled out, back, and away, getting down from the bed with a satisfied sigh.

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8

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