La Santera

When the two handsome brothers told her they were going to take her back to the bunker, she thought that was just a pretentious name for their home. It never occurred to her that it was actually a bunker. They graciously offered her shelter until she could make arrangements to get back home the next morning.

Bendita and her sister ran an on-line botanica from their Bronx apartment, which is sort of like a Latino version of new age store. She had been promised a weekend getaway by her boyfriend but instead ended up hundreds of miles from home. Turns out. her new beau was
actually a demon in disguise. Dita, as her friends liked to call her, wasn’t sure what it wanted from her. Sam and Dean were tracking down something they called a Knight of Hell, when they crossed her path and ended up rescuing her.

The bunker was beautiful and spacious. Sam led her down a long corridor to the room where she would stay for the night. He towered over her small five foot frame like a tree she wouldn’t mind climbing. He made the room feel smaller.

There was a shower, which she was grateful for. The rescue had been violent and messy. Sam gave her the layout of the room and told her where she could find extra towels and linens. It wasn’t long until the older brother arrived with a small pile of clothes. Dean wasn’t quite as tall but he was even prettier than his handsome brother. Being alone in a bedroom with the two of them could give a girl ideas... but right now all she wanted was a shower.

Dean apologized that they didn’t have any women's clothes. Still he'd brought something she could wear to sleep in. When the boys left, she undressed and took a long hot shower. After drying off, she pulled her long dark hair into a ponytail, then picked through the pile finding a
soft cotton wife beater and pair of boxer shorts that fit okay.

Despite the comfy clothes and the somewhat comfy bed, sleep eluded her. The events of the day kept replaying in her mind. After tossing and turning for an hour she finally got up. She needed something to distract her busy mind. Quietly she made her way back down the hallway
toward the main rooms. Here the walls were covered with shelves that were filled, floor to ceiling, with books. She thought maybe she would just borrow one to read until she could fall asleep. Upon closer inspection of the bunker's library, she discovered nearly all the
books were either about religion or the occult.

“Nena, tu queires este libro,” her grandmother’s voice in her head told her. The voice had plagued her all her life. She rarely spoke of it for fear of being institutionalized, and really she couldn't know it was the voice of her grandmother. Dita's Abuela had died when her
mother was still just a child. There was talk that she was mentality ill, that she died in a house fire while having a breakdown but a great Aunt had told Dita that her grandmother was actually a powerful Santera and that her neighbors burnt her house to the ground because
they were afraid.

Everyone had always remarked how much she looked like her Abuela,which was another reason she rarely spoke about the voice.

She pulled out the book the voice had urged her to pick. A copy of Busty Asian Beauties fell to the floor. Dita picked it up and, stifling a giggle, placed it in empty space. She sat down at one of the long wooden tables and flipped through the pages. It was a book on Santeria.

Owning a botantica she was familiar with this version of Caribbean witchcraft/voodoo. She had never had courage to dabble in the practice herself even though she sold the supplies one needed for the craft. She promptly closed the book. It was warm to the touch. It seemed to
vibrate, to radiate some sort of energy. Suddenly the booked popped back open.

“Nena, el poder esta en ti,” the voice in her head insisted.

She jumped back, stumbling out of the chair.

On a nearby table was some brown liquor in a bottle and four glasses. Without hesitation, she grabbed the bottle and poured herself a stiff drink, hoping it would quiet the voice.

“Escúchame!” the voice said forcefully.

Dita stopped pouring and took a long drink directly from the bottle. She had been hearing this voice all her life. For the most part it was harmless, even helpful, but today it had led her into harm's way. It was the voice that convinced her to go with David. The voice that told
her that strange sensation she felt when she was near him was attraction. Right now she wanted it to shut it up.

Dita picked up the glass, drank it down, then grabbed the bottle and exited the room. She wandered around the bunker, occasionally taking a swig. The alcohol seemed to be working, it seemed to be keeping the voice at bay, but she was coming to the realization that, in her
wandering, she was no longer sure which way her bedroom was. Then her foot hit something. She tripped and fell hard, the bottle hitting first and breaking into pieces. She tried to figure out what she had tripped on. Nothing. There was nothing there. She pushed up off the ground, cutting her hand on the broken glass. Teetering blearily, she grabbed a doorknob for leverage. It turned as she tried to pull herself up. Somehow she managed not to cut her feet even though she
was barefoot but her hand was bleeding pretty bad. She grabbed the wife beater in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. To no avail. In the meantime, the door was sliding open. It led to another room filled with shelves. On one she saw something that appeared to be a rag. Thankfully. It was either use that or use her shirt and the thought of walking around this strange place topless didn’t feel very appealing.

She wrapped the rag tightly around the wound and leaned up against the shelf. It moved. Not in the way a loose shelf would shift. The shelf was attached to the wall and the wall itself was loose.

“Abrelo," the voice in her head returned.

Curiosity and alcohol got the better of her and before she knew it she'd pushed against the shelf. The wall opened to reveal a secret room. And centered in this room, within a large devil's trap, was a man, chained to chair, sitting behind a table.

“How thoughtful. The Winchesters sent me a toy to play with. I get awfully bored in here by myself." The man had a British accent. His voice was deep and raspy.

Suddenly the same sensation she'd experienced when she met David radiated throughout her body ... but this time it was stronger.

She knew immediately this was a demon, and a powerful one at that. He was older than boys but still very attractive. The accent combined with the voice were distinguished, compelling even, but her she knew he was much more powerful and dangerous than David.

“No teines meido, tu eras fuerte nena,” the voice encouraged.

The copious amounts of warding carved into the chains that bound him confirmed her assessment. This man was very powerful. And very dangerous.

“What's your name love?” he asked.

"Bendita De La Cruz," she whispered.

He chuckled. "Blessed of the cross. Your parents had some bloody high hopes for you."

"You're a demon."

"Not just any demon, darling. Crowley, King of Hell. Now if you could be
good girl and help daddy out here I will give you anything you ever wanted."

"Ayuda lo, Nena," the voice encouraged.

"Esta's loca," she replied out loud.

"Confia en Mi, Nena."

"I trusted you, mira donde estoy."

"Ayuda lo."

"Como? Does it look like I'm hiding a key in this?"

"Who are you to talking to?" Crowley asked, raising a single eyebrow.

"The voice in my head," she blurted angrily. The words slipped out before she could stop them.

"Figures, I finally a get toy to play with and it's broken."

"I am not broken!" she growled.

The voice began to chant. A spell. The voice was chanting some kind of spell! Dita started to feel light headed.

"Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!" She felt like something or someone was trying to take over. "No. No. No. GET OUT OF MY HEAD. I SAID GET OUT!"

She took a deep breath and slammed her hands on the table. A white light flashed across the table. The voice disappeared. Dita hoped it was permanent but she knew better. It was not the first time she had made it go away. It had never tried to take over before.

"Oh that's so much better..." The shock of pain from her injured hand almost made regret her decision to slam her hands on the table.

“Oh fuck. Hija de la grand puta.”

The wound suddenly felt very warm. As the warmth spread, the pain faded away. It felt as if she had released some untapped power within her. Thinking this made her wonder if she was crazy. She unwrapped her hand.

“What are you?" the captive Demon asked.

“The owner of a botantica in the Bronx,” she responded, inspecting her wound, it was no longer actively bleeding but it was still bloody.

“Practice a bit of Santeria?”

“My abuela was a Santera.”

"Following in her footsteps are we?”

“No, She got herself toasted crispy because of it. No, thank you.”

"Shame. You would have natural affinity for it... I see you a have a boo boo. Come here and let Daddy and kiss it better.”

Dita loosely re-wrapped her hand and turned and walked toward the exit.

“Darling, where you going? I thought you were my entertainment for evening.”

Instead of leaving, Dita closed the wall leaving her alone with the King. She was feeling energized, brave, a little drunk, and extremely curious. She walked toward him. The sight of a handsome man in a finely tailored suit, chained up and at her disposal was quite the
turn on. And then there was that energy...that radiating energy. The closer she got to him, the stronger it was. And it was intoxicating.

Whatever had awakened inside her wanted that energy...to surround her...to be inside her..to fill her up.

She sat in the chair across from him and stretched her leg, allowing her bare toes to graze his leg.

Crowley grinned, pleased by this turn of events.

"Darling, why don’t you come a little closer. Come and sit on daddy’s lap,” he purred.

She smiled and slowly released her hair from the ponytail, allowing her thick brown curls to fall rowdily across her shoulders.

“I’m sorry. You seem to misunderstand the situation.” She re-gathered her rowdy curls and pulled them into a tight bun, fastening it with the ponytail holder. “You are not the one in control here.”

“I’m always in control, Love. Don't let my current state fool you. ”

His smirk told her that he had noticed the effect he had on her. Dita knew he was dangerous even chained up. She also knew she had the advantage. She had seen the discarded bloody syringe on the floor by his chair. She had also caught the way he looked hungrily at her
bloody wound. He craved blood. She was going to use this to her advantage.

Blood wasn't the only thing he craved. It had been while since he had had intimate contact with anyone. The shirt was thin and covered in blood. The boxer shorts were covered in bloody hand prints. Her other clothes were in the wash, including bra and panties, so these items
were noticeably absent.

"Big words from the man in chains," she teased.

Dita pulled herself onto the table and crawled across it. When she reached him, she sat up and slowly unwrapped the injured hand. Taking one finger she ran it across the bloody gash and then smeared her blood across his lips. They locked gazes. Slowly he licked the blood from his lips.

She dabbed the finger in blood again and this time lightly pressed her finger against his lips. The Demon parted his lips and licked the blood off her finger, then began sucking on it before she pulled it away. She slid away and started to re-wrap the wound. Dismounting the
table, she turned and walked away, feeling his eyes upon her. He watched her like she was prey as she slowly walked around the table in silence. Dita was confident that she was predator.

When she reached his side of the table she quickly grabbed the syringe that lay on the floor beside the chair. She found her way back onto the table. Throwing caution to the wind, she prepped a vein and filled the syringe with her own blood and laid it on the table beside her.

"As I see it we have a couple of options," she said, breaking the silence, "One. You take this and I go on my merry way. Two. We amuse each other and you get this after. You try to harm me, you'll have to kill me cause I fight back hard. Remember I hear voices so I might be
crazy or I just might be magic."

Grabbing the syringe she slid to the edge of the table until her legs dangled off the edge. She opened her hand and presented him with the offering of human blood.

Chains rattled as he stood up. Crowley took the syringe from her hand, then slid it across the table. He gently caressed her face before leaning in and kissing her. She parted her lips and welcomed his tongue. Remaining still, she allowed his hands to wander.

Dita relished the soft wet kiss, the feel of his hands massaging her breasts. He closed the gap between them and she clasped her hands around his neck. Pulling him to her, she wrapped her legs around his waist forcing them even closer and pressing her clothed sex against
the growing hardness between his legs. The second kiss was longer and deeper. Each one after that became more urgent. His hand found its way underneath her shirt. The metal from the shackle on his wrist was cold as it pressed against her warm skin. She moaned softly as he licked
the blood stains off her collar bone neck. His free hand found its way to her bun and he snapped the hair tie that was holding it up. Curls tumbled free, cascading past her shoulders. He sunk his hand in her hair and pulled her head back exposing her neck, kissing and licking his way up to her ear.

"Remind me to thank Moose and Squirrel for the delightful toy," he purred.

Dita unclasped her her hands and smacked them against the table behind her.

"NO!" she told him.

This move startled the demon so much that he loosened his grip on her. With one hand she pushed him away and slapped him with the other.

"I am not your toy."

The King chuckled, "Is that all you got little girl?"

She responded with a wicked right hook. Her fist connected with his chin. He staggered backwards. The chair was there to catch him. The Demon placed his arms on the arm rests of the chair. Before he could use them as leverage to push back up she jumped into his lap and
quickly balanced her legs so she was kneeling on his arms. It was a precarious balance and she was surprised she was able to pull it off.

Dita leaned forward and grabbed the chain that attached to his metalcollar and pulled his head back.

"You're lucky," he growled. "If I were free, I'd show you how a proper whore is supposed to behave."

"Promises, promises. Until then you’re my bitch."

“Do you think you can get me to behave?" he snarled.

"I know I can."

"What are you going to do? Beat me, whip me, make me write bad checks." He chuckled.

She loosened her grip on his collar and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "I'll just pack up my toys and go home. Tell me Crowley, do demons get blue balls?"

She popped off the chair nimbly and turned to walk away. Crowley grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. He lifted her onto the table and kissed her. She rested her hands on his chest as his hands found their way underneath the back of her shirt.

"Mine." He stated firmly, raking his nails down her back.

She gasped. Pleasure and pain intermingled exquisitely within her. His hand found its way into her shorts. She allowed him to explore the soft wet folds between her legs, moaning softly.

“I do believe I may have found myself a little pain slut,” he said, his hands making their way to her waist band of her boxers.

“Wait daddy, let me do it,” Dita said in a little girl voice playfully pushing hands away.

Placing her hands over his shoulders for balance as she got up onto her knees. He took a step back to enjoy the show. Dita moved her hands to the waist band of her shorts but instead taking them off she quickly slid across the table away from the demon. This time Crowley
was unable grab her before she got out of reach. She disappeared briefly under the table, when she came back up she had the syringe of blood in her hand.

“My games, my rules or I leave.”

“If you wanted to leave, you would have already. You want me as much I want you. Come here I will show what 300 years of experience can do.”

“I do want to fuck you, but unlike you I have options. There are two very pretty boys in his bunker. I’m pretty sure I can convince one of them to take care of my needs. Maybe both?”

He grinned, “You are quite the little slut, aren’t you, love?”

“I’m not your love. Address me as Miss Dita,” she commanded.

The demon chuckled defiantly.

“I’m waiting.” she told him.

“I have nothing but time.”

“Okay.” She turned her back on him and began to walk away.

“Wait... Where are you going? We had a deal.”

She turned around, “No we didn’t. It was more of an understanding.” She held up the syringe. , “Is this what you’re talking about? Don’t worry I’ll leave it for you. I’ll even leave it in the trap for you. Though you might have to work a bit to get it.”

“You filthy whore.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Dita truly enjoyed taunting the King, “But you didn’t address me correctly.”

“You filthy whore, Miss Dita.”

Dita took a small step forward.. “Well, Its a start. If you stopped being a stubborn bitch we could both get off and you get your blood."

"Fine." The Demon mumbled.

"What?" She pretended she didn't understand.

"Fine," she said sharply, enunciating clearly and louder thus time.

"Fine, what?"

"Fine... Miss Dita," he said with resignation.

"Are you going to behave now?" she asked.

"Yes... Miss Dita." he spat petulantly, as if it pained him.

“Sit," she commanded. A small smile played across her face as she watched Crowley reluctantly sit down.

Dita laid the syringe on the floor. She pulled the boxer shorts down, past her hips, to her ankles, then stepped out off them entirely.

“Hands on arm rests,” she ordered. He begrudgingly obeyed.

She climbed atop of the table again and slowly crawled across. Reaching the end, she sat down facing him and dangled her legs, open, between them. “Don’t pout Crowley its unbecoming.” She extended one leg and placed her foot between his legs. Though he pretended he was not enjoying her game, the hard bulge underneath her foot told another story. She slid off the table and leaned forward cautiously. Crowley remained still. One hand grabbed his tie and pulled him close until his lips touched her. His lips were slightly parted. Her free hand found its way to his belt buckle. She licked his lips then invaded his mouth with her tongue. Keeping a tight grip on the tie, her other hand was working to free his member. The Demon lifted his hands from the arms rests for a moment then returned to their original position. He was resisting the urge to touch her, which was more difficult once she had freed his cock from its constraints.

“That's a good boy,” she whispered. Firmly she stoked his cock as she dropped to her knees still holding his tie like a short leash.

In a single slow motion, she licked his penis from the base to tip. Crowley moaned. Dita glanced over at his hand tightly gripping the arm rest. Using his tie as leverage she got up and leaned into the demon’s ear. “See happens when you behave.”

Confidently, she crawled into his lap and kissed him as pressed her naked sex against his cock.

“You viscous tease,” he uttered.

“And you love it.” Dita purred. “Tell me Crowley do you want to fuck me?”

“Yes.” He moaned as she rubbed against him.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Miss Dita,” he uttered, articulating each syllable sharply.

“Be good to Miss Dita and she will take care of you,” she whispered into his ear.

Still gripping his very expensive tie, Dita stood up and took step back, making him scoot the chair close enough to the table that she could sit on the edge and she still keep hold of the tie. Using her feet she knocked his hands off the arm rests and replaced them with her feet.

Crowley tested the waters by placing his hands on her ankles. She nodded in approval. He slowly ran his hands up and down her bare legs.
Dita enjoyed the way his hands felt on her skin and she wanted more. She leaned in to him. It was obvious what she wanted next but the demon dared not make a move until got he got the cue from his mistress. She tugged on the tie, communicating what was expected ofhim. He slid forward in his seat, firmly sliding his hands up her legs until both hands cradled her ass. Starting on the inside her thigh he kissed and licked his way from thighs to folds. Expertly, he flicked his tongue back and forth lightly across her clit. Dita moaned softly. She could feel the stubble of his beard against the inside of her thigh as explored her wetness with his soft, warm tongue. Dita released the grip on the tie. Slowly she leaned back onto her elbows and let her head fall back.

“Oh god, that feels so good.”

“You’re thanking the wrong person, love,” he paused to retort.

“Did I tell you could fucking stop?” she barked.

He replied by inserting two fingers inside her as he continued to pleasure her with his tongue.

“Oh fuck,” is all she could mange before being swept up in orgasm.

He continued to finger fuck her while he kissed and licked, occasionally running his teeth across her skin. He had correctly accessed earlier -- pain slut. He lightly bit her, as if silently
asking permission.

“Don’t you fucking break skin.” she growled, grinding herself against his fingers inside her.

He bit down hard on a soft spot at the top of her thigh, careful not to draw blood.

“Ughh, Hija de la grande puta!” She continued to yell out various obscenities to channel the pain. The mingling of pleasure and pain overwhelmed her senses. His tongue returned to her slit as his fingers continued to move inside of her. On the brink of sensory overload her body involuntary attempted to move away but the demon tightened his grip on her, pulling her against him. Dita collapsed onto her back as he pulled her closer and closer to the edge. He rubbed his stubble against the tender spot where he had marked her. She cried out in shivering climax.

Crowley sat back on the chair and grinned, quite pleased with himself.

Dita pushed up onto her elbows, slowly recovering from her orgasm, but she was far from done. Sliding off the table she practically fell in the demon's lap. Grabbing the tie again, she crawled into his lap and kissed him. She could taste herself on his lips.

“I want you inside me,” she growled.

She released the tie and placed his hands on her hips. She grabbed his cock and lifted her hips to guide him inside her. Slowly she slid down around his member.

The demon moaned in pleasure, his fingers tightening on her hips.

“Take off my shirt,” she ordered.

He ripped the bloody shirt from her back hungrily, peeling it from the places where the blood had dried. He eyed the dried blood on her breasts and torso.

“Lick me clean,"Dita commanded, continuing to ride his cock.

He obeyed, licking the blood from her chest. She guided his hands to her breasts allowing his hands and mouth to roam free. Dita jerked the tie upward, interrupting his travels. She kissed him, pulled away, then locked his gaze.

“I want you to fuck me. Crowley, I want you to take me.”

Immediately he lifted her from his lap, flipped her over and bent her over the table. He entered her from behind with no mercy. The Demon grabbed a fist full of hair as he her fucked her. She groaned and moaned and occasionally swore as he had his way with her until finally
Crowley, fingers clenching mercilessly, shuddered and came inside her. Slowly he scraped his nails down Dita’s back as she shivered. reflexively. With a large exhale he rocked back in his chair as Dita slowly turned over, breathing shortly. They recovered in silence for a
few minutes.

The demon was the first to break the silence, “You are beautiful.”

He leaned forward to touch her.

“That was amazing but please don’t fucking touch me,” she growled, slowly recovering.

“Such language from a lady. tsk tsk tsk,” he teased.

“You didn’t mind it before. Besides there was nothing lady-like about what I just did with you.”

“I like you. You’re... feisty. It would be a shame if this was the only time we shagged. Help me out and I’ll help you. Anything you ever wanted. I can help you get rid of whatever it is that is living in your head. You have raw power love, I can help you harness it.”

“No.”

“Do you have any idea what I’m offering you?”

“Yes and I don’t want it. I will be shaping my future thank you very much. I’m going to figure this out on my own. I may have no problems fucking the King of Hell but I know better then to make a deal with him.”

Slowly she slides off the table, her legs still shaking. Luckily her shirt had landed on the table. Dita slid the shirt back on,before walking around the table to grab her shorts. Once dressed she picked up the syringe of blood. With one firm push, she slid it across the table. Crowley caught it before it hit the floor.

“I suggest you reconsider. How do you expect to make decisions with that voice controlling you?”

“It's my head. I’ll figure it out. I’m pretty sure I’m crazy and magic. Speaking of the voice. I need to get out of here before it returns. There are too many dangerous things in this bunker for it to try to abuse.” She walked over to wall and opened it.

“Wait. you’re really going to leave me here?” he called after her.

“You’ll find a way out. And when you do, find me. Maybe you can make good on your earlier promises.” And with that, Dita walked out, without looking back, closing the wall behind her.