Kind of a pointless thing that I wrote the Supernatural fandom. I'm not very active on this site, but I'm trying, so here's another of my stories staring Dean Winchester, Sam W and a few original characters
I hate days like these. I hate that they last too long. I hate that “days like these” is turning into “weeks like these.” Sam didn’t understand this feeling I got from not being able to…wait, let me start at the beginning. Her name was Nancy and she worked at the little pie diner on the corner just down the street from the motel and she was quite the “sweetie pie.” I took her back to the room for a little business with pleasure. Can’t really remember what the business was, but the pleasure…oh yeah that was good. For a while, at least. We were working up a sweat on the sheets; I was harder than steel and she was hot as a frying pan. I’m not quite sure why it happened, but when she came, I didn’t. That climax made her scream and those muscles clench down on me, but I just—I don’t know, couldn’t. When she settled down and rolled off of me, I stared at my dick in disbelief and betrayal. You son of a bitch.
“You okay?” Nancy asked, seriously concerned. Sure, she seemed a little disappointed that I was still—how to put this lightly?—erect.
Clearing my throat and sitting up awkwardly, I tried to get past the strange feeling of an unsatisfied experience. “Yeah,” I told her, my surprise weighing on my voice. I felt a little embarrassed at the fact that my dick decided that a tight, sexy chick wasn’t good enough to get it off. “This…I’ve never…okay, this is really awkward.”
Once she had effectively caught her breath, she sat up in bed as well, hot, naked chest leaning against my arm. Thankfully, my engorged manhood still responded correctly, but curse come from blessing, I was still too hard to be comfortable. “Maybe we could try again.” Her suggestion was sensual and very, very enticing, but I wasn’t sure it would help any if it hadn’t once. “Or I could try something else…”
For a moment, the underlying insinuations of that statement were lost to me. Then I felt her move down my side, hot breath, warm, sweaty skin stroking me all the way until she had successfully moved in front of me. At her wink, I knew her intention and I smirked slightly. Quickly, she kissed my lips, my throat, my chest and lower…and lower… Those red lips, they were made to wrap around my cock like that.
Let’s just say that the night’s activities were less than useful. I couldn’t get off. Nothing helped for I don’t remember how long. There was Nancy, then Shelley. After that, Mary, Sue, Jenny, Molly, Karen, Carrin (with a “C” and an “i”), Jessica, some black chick named Tadae—which is horrible, no offense—Jane Doe, and Courtney Love. My legs ached with that sense of self-loathing—or rather, “dick”-loathing—no matter what I did. Then, like a blessing, I met the Dawsons.
I won’t say that he dragged me out of the bathroom of McGinty’s—though that’s probably what he wanted to do. He more of walked in on me jerking off in a stall when the lock failed and he got an eyeful of my conundrum. When he invited me to his table and left the restroom, I stood there for a second, my hand on my cock, staring at the closed door. I was almost catatonic with surprise that he would wink at me like that. Mind screaming NO!!!, I was pretty sure my desperation had limits, being that he’d basically come on to me. However, my feet were moving before I even tucked myself back in my jeans.
I remember my very first thought when I saw them cuddling in that booth at the back was something along the lines of Man, that woman is sex on legs…very slender, smooth, tanned, nylon-wrapped legs. I have an odd thought-process, but it gets me what I need done. For all intents and purposes, they were necking like teenagers at the drive-in. He was there, arms wrapped around her, cradling her head as he pressed their lips together. Stuff like that, I’d seen a lot of that. Movies, pornos, things like that made me a bit desensitized to PDA. Still, looking at them, her hand stroking something under the table, his fingers running through her long, golden hair, was like being fifteen and horny all over again. It was an instantaneous crush, and I fell hard—I’ll try to refrain from saying “hard like my cock.” I’ve never been more jealous that that wasn’t me sitting with gorgeous, strong and sensual. Little did I know that they would offer me something that I really needed and wanted after giving it a whirl.
I barely registered walking up to the table until the man looked up at me and smiled with wet, kiss-red lips. My envy smoldered into something more like longing and “little me” twitched in that same urge. “Hey there,” he said, beckoning me to sit across from them. “I’m Jack Dawson, and this is my lovely wife, Lilly.”
Lovely is right, I thought, the voice in my head grumpy. This is my bigger head, ladies and gents—though not to say that the other one is small. Funny how when I hear the name Lilly I think of a porn star. Or maybe that’s just because my mind is in the gutter. Quickly it occurred to me that I hadn’t sat down yet. I’d been standing next to the table staring like a dirty voyeur. Way to be creepy…
With as little of an awkward cough as I could manage, I sat down to introduce myself. “Th’name’s Dean,” I said, rebuking myself for being on the disadvantage in this situation. It’s not often that Dean Winchester is hit on—by a man at that. Not that I minded that the man came with a woman.
“You came out quicker than I thought you would,” Jack admitted.
“That’s an interesting thing to say once you walked in on me having…technical difficulties. No offense, but seeing a guy staring at my ‘little buddy’ isn’t exactly an upper.”
Immediately, I saw the look on Lilly’s face light up a bit. The corners of her mouth curved up into one of the most intriguing grins I’ve seen. Strangely, when I think of grins, I think of practicing in the mirror. If she was a bigger flirt than I was, I had something else to explain my boyish crush. Blue eyes flickered something like curiosity and adoration—kind of like she was watching a child play with a new Christmas present. I hated the patronizing aura that came from these two.
“What he meant was,” she began, a melodic tone floating from her lips, “most people would be stubborn enough to stay in that bathroom another twenty minutes trying to prove that they don’t need some help.” Oh, the way her eyebrows raised and she winked at me: it was almost enough to make me come in my pants right then and there. Almost…always almost.
I was thinking something along the lines of you could help me any day of the week, babe when she started speaking again. “Are you comfortable with your sexuality, Dean?”
Jack chuckled something under his breath that sounded like “Don’t ease him comfortably into, Dear.” How he could be so strong and playful with an intimidating, vastly more beautiful goddess sitting beside him was beyond me.
“Um…” I began awkwardly. “I’m pretty sure that I’m straight, if that’s what you mean.” The one thing I was trying to focus on was not blatantly checking out Jack’s wife. Looking down at the table, I scratched idly at the darkened, furnished wood. “Where’s this going?”
“Straight to the point then, you are a man of business.” It took a bit to distinguish the accent she had. Something like British but just a bit more exotic. I was easily distracted by her leaning forward, thin, firm arm stretching towards me over the rough, wood surface. “My husband and I are soliciting, rather…we are looking for a third party to our sexual practices.”
“A threesome?” Now that, I could do. In fact, I was way okay with that.
“Precisely,” a lithe, little smile decorated her face. I wanted so bad to just reach out and touch her. She looked so soft. “However, and this is usually when they leave, we have rather unique tastes.”
I felt my excitement ebb. Oh no, don’t say it…please don’t screw this up, God. I’ll come up there and bitch slap you. “Why do I have the feeling that you’re going to say something like you’re into bondage?” My disappointment sprang from a few things. I didn’t go from being tied down. It freaked me out to no extreme not to be able to defend myself. Now, I’d be alright with a threesome because that got me access to the lovely Lilly sitting across from me, but bondage, I could do without. Kink, not so great with me. It was a damned shame that she used that smile of hers to confirm my thoughts.
“Bondage, Domination, Sado-Masochism,” She clarified carefully. “An exhilarating exercise in trust and pleasure. Though we don’t dip into the S&M as much.”
“Wait, wait…” I knew exactly where this was going and it made my stomach flip over. “So, you want someone that you can tie up?” Her smile did not fade even a little bit, and as enchanting as it is… “And you wonder why people walk away?”
Almost instantly, Jack started to adopt the same light attitude as his wife. His fingers brushed lovingly over his wife’s shoulder as he decided to say something. “I suggest that you don’t knock it until you try it.” What a horrible use of that phrase. “I thought the same way before I met Lilly.” The cliché of that statement outweighed the creepiness and I decided to smile rather than cringe. “And you can’t say that you’re completely put out, you’re still sitting there asking questions, after all.”
Yep, you’re right. I should have left five minutes ago. No, better. I should have gotten the hell out of dodge when I saw you spying on me in the bathroom, you pervert! I smothered the little voice in my head after a few moments of yelling at myself. The only reason for this was the slightly pouty look I was getting from Lilly with that provocatively raised eyebrow…chills ran down my spine. “I’m trying to be polite.” That was more for my own benefit. Deny interest, deny interest, deny interest!!! “And maybe get a free drink out of this.”
Out of nowhere, I felt her finger poke into my forehead. I just immediately shut my mouth—almost as if she’d pushed the mute button. I didn’t think I had one. Please don’t let Sam find out about this. Does Sam have a mute button? My train of thought tends to stray when I think about Sam. My train of thought tends to veer off into the wilderness when I think about Sam and I have a hard on. Oop, time to stop thinking about that. “I don’t think so, guys. Even if you paid me—”
“One hundred dollars,” she interrupted me.
I ran a blank. What the hell…? “What do you take me for, a whore?” I’m pretty sure I said that, even though my mind just suddenly switched gears and was telling me to accept the offer.
Oh Jesus on high…Wait, marijuana? Like that time I got Sam high back in Alabama…Ack! Bad thoughts, bad thoughts, BAD THOUGHTS!!! I was officially losing my mind, I think. You try having a freaking boner for three weeks and then you try to think straight! “Two hundred…dollars?” She nodded. “Hey, one thing…if I agree to this, do you think you can…that is…help me with a predicament…” Bad choice of words…anything even resembling “dick.”
“Hey Sam,” I said once the call went through and lazy-ass picked up his phone. I’m not sure what I was planning on telling him exactly. Leaning against the wall behind the bar, I chewed on my lip awkwardly and tried to think of an excuse. Felt like skipping class in Junior High all over again.
“What’s up, Dean?”
“I’m going be out for a few days.” There, that’s good. True, but not specific. Knowing Sam, he’ll ask for the fucking specifics. “With a friend…” Only once I said it did I realize how stupid it sounded. They were definitely not my friends…
“You have friends?” That cheeky, little bastard was laughing on the other line.
“Yes, I have friends, thank you very much.” My teeth ground together in what shouldn’t have been such deep anger. I guess I was just grumpy. My raging hard on was slipping away a bit, and I have mixed feelings about that. The pout that hung around my psyche was masking me emo; so much so that I just wished Jack and Lilly would hurry their asses up. If this was going to work, I was impatient for it.
“You wanna come pick up some clothes?” Oh, innocent, little Sammy.
“Nah, I don’t think I’ll need clothes. Bye.”
His uncertain, slightly flabbergasted scoff was cut off by me ending the call. Thanks, but no. I don’t need you’re shit right now. Knowing him, he’ll scold me on something like the reasons I should be sleeping and not with someone. He didn’t know a thing about my…problem so I just let him think what he would.
As I was putting my cell back in my pocket, I heard something in the darkness of the alley behind me. It echoed around me for a moment, so quiet that no one else would have heard it. It sucks to be a hunter sometimes. I can’t be caught off guard and it makes the suspense of what’s going to happen roll around the pit of my stomach. For just a split second, I considered the danger of the situation, then the possible exits, then flipping off my Dad for drilling this shit in my head. My nerves were screaming and shouting. I tried not to shiver and pretended I couldn’t hear anything. Fixing my coat just to have something to do with my hands other than let them shake, I waited. Three, two, one…
A hand covered my mouth and another grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back. It was supposed to be before I could react, but I could have kicked his ass in one and a half minutes. However, the moment I moved even a little in that grip, he twisted my arm harder, sending a sharp bolt of pain straight through my body. Automatically, I gripped the hand on my mouth to try to pull it away. My alarmed grunt fit the situation nicely.
“Shush,” the voice hissed in my ear. I recognized it immediately, but didn’t lighten up on my grip on his hand. “Don’t make a sound.” I remembered going over how this would go down before I left the bar, but the thrill that stirred in my chest was easily described as fear. It was just the same as when Sam and I were on a hunt, except maybe for an additional sensation I wanted to accredit to adrenaline. “Understand?” he went on, roughly.
I’ve never been so nervous before in my life. One time in high school, I was supposed to give a speech to half of the junior class about the detriments of smoking after I’d been caught with a cigarette in the boys’ room. I had almost vomited and passed out on the spot from my stage fright, but that was nothing like now. I could practically feel myself losing my grip on performance. Let’s just say that I am a horrible actor in every way. When I nodded and he took his hand away to pull both my arms behind me, I thought of making a last minute break for it. Jack, hey. I don’t think so. I can’t do this. I’m going to lose my lunch. I said nothing.
For some reason I could compare the one-handed grip he had on my hands to Sam’s when he would pin me during sparing. However, then I heard the sharp slip of metal against fabric and suddenly there was a knife at my throat. The voice in my head was telling me to stop being suicidal and break free, apologize and walk away, but I couldn’t. All of this was very frightening and it should have been so much of a turn off that I lost my nagging hard on once and for all, but the slight sting I felt when the blade scraped my skin sent a shot of heat across my entire body.
As he led me down the alley I stared to get a grip on myself better than what I had before. I let myself sigh quietly while the little voice in my head that I often disagreed with started to taunt me. Wow, Dean. You’re more of a kinky whore than you thought you were. Half of me was laughing at the ridiculous fact that I was kind of getting off at being held at knifepoint. The rest of my crazy-ass self was in slack-jawed wonder at the happy twitch my manhood gave when Jack held me so rough. That saying that “you never know a guy until you get him in bed” works for yourself as well.
Once we got to the end of the alley-way, he shoved me up against the wall and I felt the knife go away. After a few seconds, there was a rustle of fabric and something black and thick covered my eyes. I felt the knot pull tight, catching some of my hair with it. “Easy there, tiger,” I snickered, never to admit the shiver in my voice. He shoved me harder against the brick, trying to act angry despite his quite chuckle.
“Shut up, tiger,” he snapped.
I was moving again. He guided me haphazardly across the dark plane that was in front of and all around me. I knew the street was somewhere near me by the change in atmosphere and once I stepped off the curb, I heard a hatch open. There was a motor humming quietly somewhere and my first thought was truck. The grip tightened on my hands and I felt myself pushed against the bumper. “Step up,” Jack demanded.
I felt him step up with me and shove me forward. The ceiling was high, high enough for me to stand straight. It smelled clean in here and it was rather warm. I tried to settle my breathing a bit despite the fact that my nerves were starting to go haywire again. His grip was really tight. Honestly, he must have had a shit load of practice with this sort of thing because I probably would have had to wriggle like an electric eel to break free. And, the kick in the ass is, I didn’t. I let him lead me into his truck and now I was feeling my hands directed up above me and wrapped up in tight, metal cuffs. The door behind me closed and I was officially “captive.”
For a few moments, all I could feel or hear was the truck shifting gears and pulling away from the curb. My hands hung from the ceiling just a few inches from the top of my head and I really felt the fear then. Why hadn’t it occurred to me before that there was no way I could trust these people? The what ifs ran through my head that I tried to shoot down by remembering that they’d been so enthusiastic about explaining everything to me. They had tried so hard to make me comfortable, so I should try to be just a little at ease.
Just when I was thinking that I was alone in this vehicle, I felt something ghost up my spine. Out of reflex, I turned my head to see—despite the blindfold. It felt like two fingers applying pressure to my back, trying to nudge me or contemplating what I was made of. I couldn’t help but shiver against the onslaught on my skin that was moving around, over the ticklish spot on my side until something warm and thin was brushing my navel through my shirt.
“What’s going on?” I asked. They told me to play the victim, said that just because I was acting like I didn’t want it, if I didn’t use my safe word then I wasn’t in trouble.
Jack chuckled again, it was light-hearted and a bit comforting for my anxieties. His hand flattened out on my abdomen and then another one slid up into my hair with a firm grip. It didn’t exactly hurt, but it seemed to express that I was in this situation to be silent and controlled. That was one of the things that they’d told me in the planning of this whole situation. I was still nervous about being submissive like that for two strangers, but right now I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. This was two hundred dollars staring me in the face and groping down my body to my jeans.
“It’s Dean, right?” he asked, not expecting an answer. His other hand let go of my hair and traced down over my neck, tipping my head to the side—inspecting me. “This is how it’ll work. I’m going to do things to you…” as an example, his fingers started to work my jeans button loose. “…touch you…” every brush of skin on skin pushed me deeper into this uncontrollable situation. “…and you’re going to let me. Don’t make a sound and I won’t gag you.”
Abruptly, he gripped my chin and turned my head to the side so that I felt hot breath on my face. “Understand?”
There was that thrill again sneaking into my limbs. I was restrained and blinded in the back of a truck with another man’s hands trying to get into my garments. I tried to nod in that grip on my face, recalling the drill to replace a safe “word” if they gagged me. Still, who’s to say that they actually cared as much as they let on? What if I said it, told them to stop and they just kept on? A little voice in the back of my head told me that that wouldn’t happen, but I didn’t get anywhere in life trusting that voice or the humans it spoke highly of. Jack’s nails dug into my chin and the sensation was instantaneous once again.
“Answer me,” he ordered sharply.
Squirming a bit in the man’s grasp, I thought that maybe I shouldn’t come across as such a push over. Then, he reached down and played his fingers over my crotch teasingly, and I was pretty sure I’d live with being obedient. I did that well enough with Dad. “Yes.”
The retort that I had planned caught in the back of my throat with a rather loud moan. He’d finally gotten my zip down and sunk his hand into my boxer shorts. Down there, my skin was so sensitive that the contact of his palm against me racked through my entire body. I jerked my arms against those hand cuffs and tried to…well I don’t know, but apparently my body thought it was a good idea to buck like a bronco. And then he gripped and pulled down my length.
Beyond my conscious control, a quiet squeak shot up from my lungs and resonated around my nasal cavity. His hand came to an abrupt stop and I barely stopped myself from cursing at him.
“Shhhh,” he hissed in my ear.
I nodded, clenching my jaw, giving my hips a tiny little push against his hand to urge him on. Without having to see it, I knew that there was a deep blush spreading over my face and down my neck. Hopefully, it was dark in the truck and Jack wouldn’t see. It was more than embarrassing, especially since I didn’t want to do anything about it. I didn’t want to have him stop and that was the most humiliating thing about this situation. I was bound and helpless and fuck if I wasn’t getting off on it. His dry hand dragged over my cock with a harsh friction and I bit back on the moan in the back of my throat.