Sammy's Plaything

Chapter 12

 

One day everything did change and not for the better. Sam had woken before Dean and slipped into the shower. He was singing to himself and imagining new and exciting ways of fucking and sexually torturing Dean. He was completely oblivious to the trouble brewing in the other room.

 

Dean awoke with a start. He was confused. He was naked except for a thick leather collar which had a length of rope attached to its ring, securing him to one of the posts of a large four poster bed. Dean's ass was extremely sore, reaching down to feel it, he felt angry welts and bruises and it felt like he had been sitting on a long blunt object without lubrication. Based on his injuries and his attire, Dean had no choice but to conclude he was someone's sex slave, likely a man or maybe a really kinky girl that liked pegging. He frantically searched the room for a weapon within reach, but found none. There was nothing to do but wait.

 

Sam turned off the shower, dried himself off a little and wrapped a towel around his waist. He shouted cheerfully into the next room, "Slave, I'm going to beat your ass raw and then fuck you senseless for your insolence to me yesterday." He opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the bedroom and knew instantly something was wrong.

 

Whatever Dean had expected it certainly wasn't a nearly naked Sam talking about beating and then fucking him. His eyes widened in horror, then anger took over. "What the fuck is going on here, Sam? You're keeping your big brother as a sex slave now? Why the Hell can't I remember anything?"

 

Sam was in shock, Dean was himself again, this couldn't be happening. There was no reasonable explanation for the situation he found himself in. He didn't know what to do but there was one thing he was certain of, he was not going to explain they're situation if he could avoid it. He walked up to Dean and punched him hard to know him out. Then he slung Dean over his shoulder and shackled him to the wall in the regular dungeon and ran to the library, still wearing only his towel.

 

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When Dean came too again he was in a dark room cuffed to a wall, it was clearly a dungeon and it didn't look like it was the sexy kind. He relaxed a little, glad that his brother wasn't likely to rush in and rape him. God, the situation was disturbing somehow Sam had been using him as a sex slave and he had been okay with it or something. Sam had seemed quite shocked that Dean wasn't eager to be beaten and fucked by his little brother. It must have been some kind of spell or something. Why had Sam wanted to do that to him? Sam had never seemed to show that kind of inclination before. Dean was aware of his allure and magnetism, but he didn't think that was enough to make his little brother want to bone him. Maybe Sam was possessed, but that didn't really fly either, because if Sam was possessed by some demon it wouldn't have cared if the sex was consensual. Dean cursed his memory for failing him. He settled down to wait, Sam wouldn't keep him locked up forever.

 

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The walls of the library were empty and every single book was strewn chaotically about the room. In his panic, Sam had had a very difficult time finding the book he needed. Finally he found it, "Tricks from the desk of the Marquis de Sade" and he hurridly flipped through the pages looking for the spell. He found the spell and noticed some fine print at the bottom of the page. "Please note, this spell will last only eight months before wearing off. After the spell has worn off it cannot be cast again until a week has passed."

 

A week what the Hell was he supposed to do with a pissed off Dean for a week? Keep him in the dungeon the whole time? Sam was already starting to go into a kind of withdrawal, he got very anxious if he didn't seduce Dean at least once a day. He was sweating and trembling, his toe tapping nervously on the floor, what he really needed was a good fuck with Dean to get his mind off of this. Did he dare to take his older brother by force? He wasn't sure he could live with that.