5 comments/ 17454 views/ 27 favorites Demon Dean By: meerkatchild Sam tried Deans phone for the third time but it went straight to voice mail. "It's Sam. Call me." He hung up and sighed. Dean had dropped him off at the motel two hours ago and then gone to pick up some beer and a couple of cheese burgers. They were done with the case, the demon had been vanquished and the people in the small town would live happily ever after. Those who were still alive anyway. But where the hell was Dean? Laura had heard on the radio that the smoking remains of the killer had been found and so she finally felt safe being outdoors after dark. It was late and about time she got home to feed the cat, but she had another house to check on first. It was the 19th century seven bedroom house for sale just outside town. The owners had already moved abroad and had hired Laura as their realtor. The house had been put on the market with its furniture and everything. She was supposed to show it to a young couple today but they had cancelled after all the murders in town. This might prove a difficult sell. But for now Laura just needed to turn off some lights and make sure the place was locked up tight. Tomorrow morning she was leaving for Florida, for a well-deserved vacation and hopefully she could find distraction from the failing market in the hotel drink menu. Or maybe the pool boy. Or more preferably the pool man. Smiling she turned into the driveway outside the house and turned off the ignition. She got out of the car and took a deep breath of the clean, crisp air. It smelled like there would be snow tonight. "Florida, here I come" she muttered under her breath. She closed the car door and pulled her coat tighter around her. The design lighting made the house look very inviting and she wondered what it would be like to live in a place like this. She walked up the gravelled road, digging through her purse for the keys, jangling them rhythmically in her hand when she found them. She set her purse down on the porch and slowly unlocked the front door. It opened smoothly and revealed a mostly dark house. She loved being in people's houses when they were gone, even if it was dark and sometimes a little scary. But she wasn't going to stay long now. She closed the door behind her and walked into the house. There were just a few lights to turn off, plus the fridge and freezer. Some lights were on a timer and she would leave those, not wanting to invite burglars. Spotting a crooked painting in the hall she stopped to correct it. There was a creak on the floor behind her and she turned abruptly, then gasped and took a step back. A man was standing there. He inclined his head and though she couldn't quite make out his features in the gloom, she thought he was smiling. "Somebody better call God because heaven's missing an angel!" he exclaimed. His voice was deep and very loud in the quiet house. She couldn't tell if he was joking. It was an extremely disturbing situation either way. "Who are you?" she asked in a no nonsense voice. "I'm just having a look." "I'm not showing the house today, you will have to make an appointment." "Well how about now? We're both here." She hesitated. Her gut told her this was a very dangerous situation that needed to be handled carefully. The man looked to be in very good shape, fast and surely strong. If he didn't want her to leave, chances were she wouldn't. She would have to find some way to talk him down or trick him. "I suppose you're right," she replied evenly. So what kind of property are you looking for?" "This one." "Well, let's take a look then, Mr..?" "Great," he said and nodded. "We can start in the kitchen." He moved forward, put an arm around her shoulders and gently turned her around and pushed her forward, falling in to step with her as they walked toward the kitchen. She was very afraid now and wondered if it was still worth pretending that he was there to look at the house. Her cell phone was in her purse on the porch and of no use to her now. The house had a landline but it had been disconnected when the owner moved. An idea struck her. She turned her head and smiled at him. "It is a lovely kitchen. The current owner remodelled it just two years ago. Made it into a real country kitchen, white panelled cupboards and a lovely oak worktop. The tile backsplash is quite nice. Do you cook a lot?" "I'm more of a take-out guy actually." "It's never too late to start," she said and turned on the lights in the kitchen. She tried to hide the fact that she was shaking and prayed he couldn't see it when she pointed to the cellar door at the other end of the kitchen. "I thought we'd start with the kitchen cellar. The current owner is quite a wine buff and had it rebuilt into a wine cellar. No more dirt floors," she added and smiled at him again, trying to gauge what he was thinking. He smiled back. He seemed very relaxed, but there was something about the set of his shoulders that spoke of tension. She walked ahead of him and opened the cellar door. It was pitch black and she swallowed hard, an image of her, screaming, being dragged down the stairs flashed before her eyes. "Would you be so kind as to turn on the light? The switch is two steps down on the left. I'm ashamed to say I'm a little afraid of the dark." "Oh absolutely," he replied and stepped towards the door. There was something about his voice that made her think that he was fully aware of what she was doing, that he was just waiting for her to act so that he could...react? But even so he stepped through the door and when he reached the second step she slammed the door shut behind him, put the old door hasp in its place and fled from the kitchen. She heard him throw himself against the door as she was running through the hall. There was a loud crash and when she glanced back she saw him emerging from the kitchen. A whimper escaped her lips as she slid across the tile floor and into the front door, pushed down the handle and shouldered it open. As soon as she was outside she stopped whimpering and started screaming, but it was cut short. He was just a second behind her and before she could even reach the edge of the porch he had grabbed her. His right hand choked her scream off and his left wrapped around her waist. He dragged her back inside through the still open door and slammed it shut behind them. He let go of her mouth and snaked his arm around her neck instead. She took a deep shuddering breath and tried to dislodge his grip but he grabbed one of her arms and twisted it high up on her back. She whined from the pain and stopped moving. "Please let go of me." "What kind of a realtor are you? Looking your clients in the basement?" he asked and chuckled, twisting her arm a little higher until she let out a small scream. "You're hurting me." "Oh, I don't want that," he said and abruptly let her go. She stumbled away from him and tried to move for the door again but he blocked her way. "Ladies first," he said and nodded towards the great staircase. "What?" "We're going upstairs." "No. We're not." She tried to sound firm and determined, to speak with some authority. But he just cocked his head and smiled again. There was something off with the glint in his eyes. "Alright then," he said and started towards her. She ran towards the kitchen but he caught hold of her arm almost immediately, pulling her back. She crashed into his chest and tried to get away using her right hand to punch at his throat and claw at his eyes. Her nails left red marks on his face but he didn't seem at all bothered by the punch to his throat. He spun her around, pinned both of her arms on her back and moved towards a dresser until they both were leaning against it. He pushed her down on it, making her bend at the waist and she screamed at the thought of what he might do next. But for now there was just a metallic clicking sound and cold steel encircled her wrists. She tried to move away to escape the handcuffs but he was putting his weight on her and she couldn't move an inch. When the handcuffs were locked tightly in place, he carefully took off her scarf and tied it around her head and over her eyes like a blindfold. Then he let go of her completely. She righted herself, feeling dizzy and unsure of where he was. She turned around, feeling the dresser at the back of her thighs, and sensing him in front of her. "Please let me go," she whispered. "No," he said matter-of-factly and then suddenly he was on her again. The world turned upside down and she found herself hanging over his shoulder, his arms firmly around her back and legs. She didn't dare kick, or even move, in case he dropped her. He seemed unperturbed and was humming something quietly as he started walking up the staircase. "Stop it!" she screamed. "Put me down, put me down!" "Not gonna happen, Laura." "How- how do you know my name?" she whimpered as they reached the second floor. She heard him open a door and they moved through it. "Call me clairvoyant," he replied breezily, slamming the door behind them and then dumping her on top of what felt like a bed, and then added, "but my birth name is Dean." Sam hung up the phone. Straight to voice mail this time too. Maybe Dean had stopped by some bar and met a girl. It wasn't unlikely. It had in fact happened exactly three times before. Sam decided to relax and have dinner alone. There was a snacks machine outside. That wouldn't be the first time either. Landing on her hands when he dropped her on the bed had tightened the cuffs which were now digging into her wrists quite badly. Her first kick didn't connect with anything, but her second hit him in the stomach. At least she thought it was his stomach. But he didn't sound like it had hurt at all. He was still humming as he grabbed her feet and held them down before straddling her on the bed, pushing her hard into the soft duvet. It was difficult to breathe and her hands hurt like fucking hell. When he pulled up her shirt and started unbuttoning her trousers she froze and forgot all about the pain. She knew it was stupid to be surprised that this was happening but somehow her mind had refused to go there. Tears began to pool at the corner of her eyes, wetting the scarf that was still tied around her head. "Why are you doing this?" she sobbed as he pulled her trousers past her hips. "Well, I want to. And I can." He rose from the bed a little, pulling the trousers further down. She was sweating in her thick coat. To get the trousers completely off he had to get off the bed and when he did she kicked out and started thrashing about on the bed. He promptly sat down on her lower legs, grabbed her feet and took her boots off. Then he just slid the trousers off. When he got up she started kicking again but it was futile. He flipped her over onto her stomach and straddled her again. "Can I take your coat, ma'am?" he asked in a mocking voice. "Just stop!" "I don't think so." She heard the sound of keys and stiffened. He unlocked her left hand but before she could move her arms he forced her right arm down on the bed and then planted his knee firmly on top of it. He pulled on her coat, tugging it down her back and then forced her left arm out and then her right. She didn't fight him, thinking she might as well be rid of the heavy coat. When he was done he grabbed her wrists, expertly cuffing them again. "Let's get down to business," he said, flipping her over onto her back again. She gritted her teeth at the renewed pain in her wrists. "We have a lot of time on our hands. But I always like the first time to be rather...quick and dirty, shall we say?" "Just wait, please just wait," she pleaded. "If you want money..?" "No." Then his hands were on her chest, ripping her shirt open, tearing through the fabric like it was paper. She moved frantically underneath him on the bed but he was firmly seated, legs on either side of her. Next he grabbed her bra and tore it off, the shoulder straps burning her skin in the process. "I like your breasts, Laura," he remarked, his hands cupping her breasts and squeezing, not painfully but still a bit too hard. She bit her lip and turned her head, trying to shut him out, to shut everything out. "We'll get you to participate soon enough. Maybe in round four or five or so." He gave her nipples a quick pinch and then stood up. She heard him unzip his pants and drop them to the floor. She turned her body away from him. His next touch was a slap on her ass, hard enough to make her gasp. "Carry on my wayward soo-oo-ns," he hummed and tore her panties off. She screamed involuntarily and tried to move away from him but he dragged her towards him, pulling her up and onto her knees on the bed. He pushed her head down into the cover, forced her legs apart and then penetrated her to the root in one swift stroke. She screamed and tried to move away but he grabbed her hips and began a painful onslaught. After a few strokes the worst of the pain subsided as her body lubricated for him but his thrusts where hard enough to make her teeth chatter. She clenched them and sobbed into the soft duvet. It seemed to go on for ages and for a long while he didn't seem to be affected at all. But after a gruelling ten minutes or so, his breathing got heavier and finally he finished with a strangled sound. She was too spent to cry at the fact that he had come inside her. When he pulled out of her, she fell on the bed and curled up, twisting away from him. She was crying silently when he laid down on his back beside her, sighing deeply. "You know, Laura, actually the second time's my favourite." Demon Dean Pt. 02 His hands were under his head, fingers interlaced and his breaths were deep and steady. She was lying on her side, her back turned to him. Her eyes were closed and she was trying to clear her mind, breathe and get her crying under control. It wasn't working. What had he just said about a second time? "Don't feel bad, Laura. You just picked the wrong night to come here." The blindfold was wet from her tears and sweat. She was sort of glad he had put it on her as it now felt like it was shielding her from him. As stupid as it sounded she would be embarrassed to have to look at his face right now. "But you're in luck. I don't mind a little company." The bed creaked a little and she could feel his eyes upon her. She swallowed hard, suddenly afraid again. She couldn't handle that thing again. His hands on her and his cock inside of her. The whole thing had been foul and physical. She had no idea it would be so physical. Her body felt bruised where he had touched her. "Not really a talker are you," he said, and then his hand was on her arm, pushing her back down on the mattress and turning her towards him. She gasped when her weight was put on her sore wrists. The tattered remains of her shirt slid down too, exposing her breasts to him. This was the most vulnerable she had ever felt and been. "My wrists hurt," she said between tightly clenched teeth and was surprised at how calm and cool her voice sounded. "It speaks," he said and chuckled. "Roll over and I'll make you more comfortable." She froze, thinking he meant something sinister by that, and hence didn't move. He rose from the bed and after a few seconds he rolled her onto her stomach again. She was about to scream but then realised he was unlocking the cuffs. He took them off. At first she didn't move. Then she brought her arms forward and winced at a new fierce pain in her joints. Ignoring it, she levered herself to a sitting position and then reached up to take off the blindfold. He didn't stop her, nor did he say anything. She took it off and opened her eyes. The light in the room was too bright and she quickly closed them again, but not before noting that he was still standing right by the bed. She tried to cover herself with her shirt but it was too torn up to be of much use. She opened her eyes a little and slowly got accustomed to the light. The lamp in the ceiling was the only one on in the room. She wondered if anybody passing by on the road would care about the lights being on in this house. Probably not. They had been for the past couple of weeks when she had been trying to sell the place. So had the heating, thank god. She was still cold though and crossed her arms in front of her. Of course, she didn't have anything on below the waist. Shaking her head she cleared that thought and glanced at the man, afraid to be caught looking at him. He had bent down to pick up his jeans and were putting them on now. He was tall, with a fit body. There was no six pack or bulging muscles but he was strong. She saw it and she had felt it. His hair was cut short and dark blonde or maybe light brown, it was impossible to tell. His eyes were the same; maybe green, maybe brown. He had said his name was Dean. How he knew her name she still didn't know. "Sex makes me hungry. Come on," he said and nodded toward the door. "This wasn't sex," she blurted out. "You forced yourself on me." "Semantics," he replied with an amicable smile and reached out to help her off the bed. She ignored him and rose unsteadily from the bed. Her coat was on the floor and she quickly bent to pick it up, afraid he would stop her. He didn't and she put it on, buttoning the front. She reached down to pick up her trousers, and this time he did stop her, a hand in her hair, pulling her up again. "You don't need them," he said. "I like easy access." She felt nauseous as he released her hair and gave her a push towards the door. He opened it and then put a heavy hand on her neck, guiding her out in the corridor and down the stairs. She glanced furtively towards the front door but he made her turn toward the kitchen instead. "When are you going to let me go?" she said as they entered the kitchen, still brightly lit from their earlier visit. He led her to the kitchen table by the window and pulled up a chair. "Sit down," he said. "Please let me go, I-" "SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN," he growled and shoved her towards the chair. His voice had changed, there was a coldness to it and for a second his eyes had darkened. The actual colour of his eyes. Not his expression. She swallowed and quickly sat down. He leaned over her and grabbed her right hand, put a cuff around her wrist and then clipped the other to one of the radiator pipes under the window sill. "Is there any food in this place?" he asked, moving towards the cabinets. The coldness was gone from his voice. While he rummaged through the cabinets she looked out through the window. The closest house was at least three miles away, and the road was pretty much deserted at this hour. Nobody could help her. "Ah. SpaghettiOs. The staple food of America," he said suddenly and she looked up. He was waving a can at her like it was a trophy. She wondered idly if he was crazy. He seemed so completely unperturbed by what he had just done. She looked away as he began to prepare the food, finding a pan and turning on the stove. He was talking but she found it very hard to pay attention to what he was saying. Outside the snow had started falling and she lost herself in the dancing flakes. They had a calming effect on her and when he put a bowl of food in front of her she ate quietly. She hadn't eaten since breakfast and there was no point in refusing to now. She needed to keep her strength up. Since she could only use her left hand he was finished long before her and sat watching her as she finished the last of the meal. "Good?" he enquired. She looked at him and nodded. This seemed to please him. "I'm gonna show you something," he said and got out of his chair. She didn't move as he unlocked her from the radiator. He lifted her to her feet and guided her towards the kitchen cellar, the other cuff dangling from her arm. "Why don't you go first this time?" There really was no other option so she did. She took a few steps down, turned the light on and continued down the staircase. The previously professional looking wine cellar was a mess. Shelves and wine racks had been knocked down and moved and the centre of the hardwood floor had been destroyed, picked open with an axe that was embedded in the wood next to the hole. A shovel was lying there as well. "I'm turning it into a dirt floor again. You'll have to change your sales pitch." "I don't really care," she said, barely audibly and turned around. He was still standing in the middle of the staircase. Smirking, he reached for the light switch, his fingers playing over it for a few seconds before he flipped it off. The cellar was thrown into darkness. She could hear him walking down the stairs and she took a step back, realising it was time again. The second time. She felt disgusted. Afraid. Tired. She backed up until she hit a wall and then there was just nowhere to go. "Not running away now, eh?" he said, only a couple of feet away in the dark. She didn't reply and barely breathed but she could swear she heard him turn towards the sound of her rapidly beating heart. When next he spoke the distance between them was only inches. "Let's find out if this will be my favourite time." He grabbed her coat and pulled her towards him. She raised her hands, trying to push him off but he ignored her flailing arms and tore her coat open, the buttons clattering to the floor. Before she could stop him he pulled the coat down her shoulders, spun her around, tore it off and threw it away. The chilly air in the cellar enveloped her and she started shivering in her tattered and torn shirt. She kicked out at him and he grabbed her foot, pulled and she fell hard onto her hands and knees. She winced at the pain when he grabbed her cuffed wrist and twisted it, forcing her body to follow his movement and lie down on her stomach. She pulled her free hand away as he reached for it, lodging it under her body, trying to keep him from cuffing it too. He straddled her, his hard-on pressing into her ass. He leaned heavily on her, squeezing the air out of her lungs, and then reached for her hand and pulled, hard. She fought not to give in but his strength and endurance far superceded hers, and in the end her hands were cuffed behind her back again. He then let go and stood up. She twisted into a sitting position on the floor and looked up into the dark, sensing that he was still close. The sound of him unzipping told her where. She tried to get up but he was on her again, a hand in her hair forcing her back down. His other hand grabbed her jaw. The pressure of his fingers on her cheeks forced her to open her mouth. He forced his cock past her lips, ignoring her sounds of protest. "Don't you dare bite me, Laura," he said, and she didn't dare. He held her tightly by her hair and moved her head back and forth on his cock. He started out slow, almost languorously in the beginning but then he picked up his speed and pushed himself in more forcefully. He let go of her jaw and nestled both hands in her hair, pulling her head towards him at a steady rhythm. She tried to hold back, to keep him from going too deep but he pushed on. Even when he hit the back of her throat and she gagged he didn't relent. Instead he pushed deeper and she could feel it swell. He held her tightly as he moved in and out without pause, a low moan escaping him. Saliva ran from her mouth and dripped onto her chest. She tried to move away and for a second he let her. Tears streaming down her face, she took a gasping breath and shuffled back until she hit a wall. But then he grabbed her, pressed her up against the wall and forced himself into her mouth again. Her head was pushed back against the wall as he continued to fuck her mouth, slamming into the back of her throat. She couldn't breathe through her mouth, her nose was clogged and she thought she might pass out. He pushed into her one more time and then held her down, lodged deep in her throat. Jaws hurting and out of breath, she struggled futilely until he suddenly let go and pulled out of her mouth. She sank to the floor, coughing and gasping for breath, the taste of him strong in her mouth. She could taste remnants of herself too. Gagging, she spat on the floor. He grabbed her under her arms and dragged her forward, forcing her chest down onto something hard and uneven. Maybe one of the wine racks. He pushed at her legs, making her stand on her knees and put most of her weight on her stomach and chest. The wood bit into her flesh, even more so when he leaned on her. He slapped her thighs apart and she could feel his cock at her entrance. She tried to move away but he held her firmly in place, guiding his cock into her with one hand. Despite their sweaty struggle she was dry and sore from the last time and it hurt when he pushed himself inside her. As soon as he got moving he grabbed her hips to help him push in harder and deeper but still very slowly. His fingers dug into her flesh as he started going a little faster. She slowly got wet and the pain lessened. He twisted a hand into her long hair and pulled her head back and then picked up the pace even more, slamming into her fast and hard. She gritted her teeth and tried to be quiet but small rhythmical sounds emanated from her as a result of his thrusts. One of his hands encircled her throat and his fingers dug in, cutting off her ability to breathe. At first she stoically accepted it, but when he continued to hold her like that her body reacted and started moving anyway, trying to throw him off just to breathe again. But his grip was relentless and she had almost passed out when he finally let go. He slapped her ass hard a couple of times and she came to, greedily drawing breath, unable to focus on anything else. But as soon as her head had cleared the pain in her body made itself known again. She continued to take deep shuddering breaths, trying to focus on that and bent her head down to just suffer through it. His hands were back on her hips now, drawing her towards him in a quick tempo. She could hear on his breathing that it probably would be over soon. And a few seconds later it was; he pulled her hard against him one more time and buried himself deep inside her. He groaned and his body spasmed a little before he relaxed on top of her. She didn't say anything but prayed he wouldn't fall asleep like that. After a minute or two he pulled out of her and got up. Her knees felt so weak she didn't think she could get up off the wine rack by herself. She heard him move around and then felt his hands on her waist, lifting her up and onto her feet. She could barely stand. There was a considerable pain in her chest and stomach from where the rack had been, but she clenched her teeth and didn't even let out a whimper. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "I really enjoyed that," he said and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "You were great." She turned her head away from him and didn't say anything. He led her forward and she yelped when she banged her foot on something hard and solid. "Oh right, sorry, I forgot you can't see down here," he said, sounding almost sincere. She wondered how he could still see in the pitch black cellar, but didn't ask. "The staircase's right here. Take a step up with your right foot now. There you go, now the next step." This mad piece of shit doesn't realise how absurd this is, she thought as he coached her gently up the stairs. When they reached the top he opened the door to the kitchen and she was completely blinded, turning around quickly and almost falling down the stairs again. He grabbed her and led her into the kitchen, her eyes teary and closed. "Let's get you to bed, Laura" She didn't object or fight him as he led her down the hall, up the stairs and into the bedroom where he had first raped her just a couple of hours ago. He sat her down on the bed, removed the cuffs and told her to move her arms around for a few minutes. She obliged, never once looking at him. After a few minutes he took her left hand and cuffed it to the iron headboard. "Gotta get stuff done in the cellar. I'll see you later." He looked at her searchingly but when she didn't respond he shrugged, and left the room. He turned off the light but left the door open and she heard him humming that god awful song again as he walked down the stairs. She didn't want to be here for later. Demon Dean Pt. 03 She tested the cuffs of course. One side was tight around her wrist, there was no wriggling out of it, and the other was attached to the headboard. It was very dark in the room but she felt her way around and came to the conclusion that the cuff couldn't be taken off the headboard and the headboard couldn't be taken apart. It felt like solid iron and it was seamless. No screws. No weak points. She pulled at it with all her strength but that did nothing except hurt her already raw wrist. She sank down on the bed, too tired to even cry. She was stuck here until he returned, whenever that would be. He was probably back in the cellar, doing whatever with the floor there. She held her breath for a few seconds to listen but couldn't hear anything. On a whim she reached towards the bedside table and pulled out the drawer there, feeling to see if there was anything she could use as a weapon, or to get the cuffs off. But the drawer was empty. Her shirt was sweaty and dirty and she shrugged out of it, tore it up to get it past her cuffed hand. Clothes couldn't protect her anyway. As she moved she felt stickiness on the inside of her thighs and she teared up again. She wiped at it with the remains of the shirt and then threw the fabric across the room. Shivering, she moved the covers and crawled under them. While she waited for her body to warm up she closed her eyes and thought of Florida. The plane was leaving in a few hours and she wouldn't be on it. Burrowing into the pillow sleep hit her like a hammer. Sometime later she jolted awake, her breathing ragged and panicky. There had been a nightmare. She sat up and looked around but she was still alone in the room. Even so, the real nightmare was here and now. Her left arm had gone completely numb and she moved it to take the pressure off, flexing her fingers to bring them back to life. She grimaced as her arm started tingling, tickling and stinging all at once. A more trivial but escalading problem was her bladder. She really needed to go to the bathroom. She twisted and turned uncomfortably for a while, wondering if it would end in the humiliation of a wet bed. She certainly wouldn't shout for him to get here. He would come soon enough; of that she was sure. The question was, what would he do next? How many more times would he rape her before he let her go? Would he even let her go? She had seen his face, and she knew his name and although he hadn't really hurt her, yet, he seemed capable of anything. She remembered the feel of his hands around her throat, slowly squeezing the life out of her. What if he didn't stop next time? She shifted on the bed and grimaced. God, she really needed to go to the bathroom. The door to the en suite was closed and she lay there looking at it, just being able to make out the shape in the dark. And then a thought formed. A thought about how some of the upstairs windows of this New England type house were connected to the gently sloping roof of the wrap-around porch. How simple it would be to get out the bathroom window, and then down on the ground to get her purse from the porch. Her purse with the car keys and her cell phone. The sound of footsteps in the staircase interrupted her thoughts and her breath caught in her throat. How many hours ago since he left her? Would he be ready again now or was he going to sleep? He entered the room, and turned the light on in the ceiling. She sat up blinking in the harsh light and looked at him. He was wearing a white, mud streaked t-shirt with his jeans now. He cocked his head and smiled at her, a very charming smile, and then sat down next to her on the bed. "I see you've taken off your shirt," he said and pulled the cover down, exposing her breasts. "Suits you," he added and leaned forward, putting his hands on her breasts and pushing her into the mattress. "You smell really bad," she blurted out, and he did. There was a sharp tang of sweat to his scent, and something indescribable underneath it. "Oh, do I?" he said and squeezed her breast harder, pinching the nipple between his thumb and index finger. "Yes," she gasped, fighting not to fight, rage and scream at him. Not now. "Well, I am a gentleman, so how about I take a shower first? Would the lady like that?" he enquired with a wry smile. "Yes. Thank you," she said, thinking the forced gratitude in her voice must be obvious. "No problem, Laura. We're gonna be spending some time together and it's only fair I do something for you, right?" He let go and rose from the bed, stripped off all his clothes and discarded them on the floor by the bed. He opened the bathroom door and it glided shut behind him. As soon as she heard the sound of the shower coming on she turned her attention to his jeans. She stood up and stuck out her leg until she could reach them, and then moved them closer until she could pick them up. Sitting down she quickly went through the pockets. There was no key to the handcuffs but there was a phone. Shaking, she pressed the buttons alongside of it until she found the power button and the screen lit up. There were fifteen missed calls from somebody named Sam. She tried to unlock the screen but failed, a password was required. She saw the emergency call icon and pressed it. The shower was turned off as she pressed 9-1-1. Realizing there was no time, she pressed 'call', jammed the phone under the mattress and threw his jeans back on the floor. The bathroom door opened and she looked up, wondering if he could see it all on her face. He walked into the room with a towel in his hand, his hair slick and wet. "Ready for another dose of Dean, baby?" he said and grabbed her jaw, forcing her head up. Her jaw still hurt from his treatment a few hours ago. She looked up into his eyes and then down again, afraid he would be able to read her. "Can I please use the bathroom," she said, trying to appear as innocent and meek as possible. "I really need to go." "I'm gonna let you go do your thing. You might wanna wash up too, I'm not the only one who smells a bit... funky," he said, his smile bright and warm but his eyes dead cold. She blushed and he tightened his grip on her jaw, forced her mouth open and then bent down to kiss her, sticking his tongue in and probing her mouth with it. She kept her free hand still on the bed even though she wanted to beat him away. Eventually he withdrew and let go of her jaw. "Next time, you're gonna kiss me back," he said matter-of-factly. Then he bent over her and unlocked the cuffs. He must have had the keys with him into the bathroom. She rubbed her wrist and got to her feet slowly. He nodded towards the bathroom door. "Lock it and I'll kick it down." She only nodded and then walked into the bathroom. Hands shaking, she shut the door behind her and then immediately relieved herself on the toilet. She flushed and washed her hands, looking at herself in the mirror. Her hair was dishevelled and her eyes puffy and red. Around her throat were red marks from the pressure of his fingers. She swallowed and hardened herself, willing the fear away. It was time to act now. A grey bathrobe hung on a peg on the wall and she put it on. She had advised the owners to leave behind things to make the place look lived-in and the robe was one of those items. It smelled a little stale. She turned on the shower, opened the bathroom window as quietly as possible, heaved herself up on the windowsill and climbed out onto the roof of the wrap-around porch. It was cold outside. There was a first quarter moon but clouds moved in front of it and it smelled like snow. A thin layer of frost covered the tiles and she moved quickly but carefully towards the front of the house, away from the bedroom window. When she reached the corner of the porch she got down on her hands and knees and crept toward the edge of the roof to look down. The porch light shone on the lawn below. She wasn't very high up, only eight feet but she didn't dare jump and risk hurting herself. So she scooted over the edge, wrapped her legs around one of the rounded stone pillars and slid down. Getting onto the porch she wondered briefly how many minutes had passed since she had closed the bathroom door, and when he would be coming after her. She hoped the 911 call had resulted in something. Maybe the police were on their way already. She padded quietly across the porch to where her bag was, grabbed it, moved off the porch and started running towards her car, three hundred feet away. She ran on the lawn as far as she could but eventually had to get onto the pathway. The sound of her feet on the gravel seemed suddenly loud in the otherwise quiet night. She glanced back towards the porch but there was no sign of him. Still running she pulled the phone from her bag and tried to turn it on. The screen remained black. Fuck. It had been low on battery before and it must have drained completely now. She tossed it back in the bag and grabbed the car key. She clicked the unlock button just as she reached the car and almost slammed into the side. She pulled the door open, threw her bag inside, slid in and looked up for a second towards the house. Nothing. She pushed down the clutch and the break and then pressed the start button, waiting for the sound of the engine coming on. There was nothing. She pressed it again but still nothing happened. She tried to remember if she was missing something; she had only had this car for a couple of weeks and it was her most modern car yet. She pressed the button a few more times but no change. Cursing she glanced up and froze. He was standing on the porch, face turned towards the car. As she was watching, he stepped off the porch. She threw the door open, scrambled out and started running for the woods. The gravelled road would be the quickest way to the main road but she didn't think she could outrun him. In the woods she might be able to hide. She glanced back and saw that he had broken into a run too. She passed some sparse trees where the lawn merged into the woods and then grass made way for more trees, tall bushes and a thick underbrush. If it wasn't for the moon she wouldn't have been able to see anything, but now it at least helped her avoid crashing headfirst into trees. She stumbled over rocks and roots, wondering if he would be able to see her. In the cellar he had acted like he could see in the dark. If he could, she needed a good hiding place, now. Branches whipped at her face and tore at the robe as she ran on in what she thought was the direction of the main road. On her left she spotted a huge tree, a spruce with a base fifteen feet wide, and she instinctively broke off and ran towards it. She crawled under the bottommost branches and in towards the stem. She wrapped her arms around it to stabilize herself and tried to be as still and quiet as possible. As some of the adrenaline wore off she realised she couldn't feel her feet. Her lower legs and face burned and so did her lungs. She slowly got her breathing under control. For a few seconds all was quiet and then she heard the small sounds of somebody moving quietly towards her; a twig breaking off, a small rock skittering on the ground. He wasn't running and she feared it was because he knew where she was hiding. She relaxed her body and felt her heartbeat slow down. Because he was wearing the white t-shirt again she could see him clearly as he moved past her. He stopped every few feet and seemed to listen intently. His toned body looked all tense, like it was just waiting to spring into action. He walked slowly past the tree and soon disappeared from view. She made herself wait a whole minute before she slowly crawled out from under the tree. She rose and listened but all was quiet. For now, she thought it would be safer to try to move silently so she did, keeping low as she picked her way towards the main road. She pulled up the robe so it wouldn't get caught on anything. It couldn't be much further now. When she made it to the road she could run again. Bare feet on asphalt made almost no sound at all. It was maybe thirty degrees out so she didn't think she would be in danger of freezing her feet, as long as she kept moving and it didn't start to snow. But the 3-4 miles to the nearest neighbour still felt like a very long way right now. Eventually the trees became sparser and the road appeared ahead, its yellow lines faded and barely visible in the moonlight. She looked around her and listened but there was still no sign of him so she tentatively stepped out from the shelter of the trees, moving through bushes towards the road. Then suddenly there was a light far away on the road. A car. A car was coming towards her, maybe half a mile out now. She ran towards the road praying she would reach it before the car had passed. Then something slammed into her side and brought her stumbling down on the ground. He had found her. He scrambled on top of her back, his weight pressing her stomach and chest onto the cold ground. She started to scream but he clamped his hand over her mouth, muffling her screams. More furious than afraid now she bit into his fingers until she tasted blood. He didn't let go. She planted her hand firmly beneath her and pushed back at him at an angle, generating enough momentum to get him off her back and onto his side. Her mouth free, she took a deep breath and followed him with her elbow, slamming it down to strike at his face. He moved a little to the side and her elbow hit his cheek with a dull sound. She could hear the car now and heaved herself up from the ground and set off for the road again, waving her arms. But she only got a few steps before he grabbed her ankle and pulled hard and she fell to her knees, banging her right knee hard on a rock. As she cried out he pulled again and she fell onto her stomach, fingers scrambling in the dirt. He got on top of her back again and before she could do anything he had snaked his arm around her neck and pulled her towards him in a rear naked choke. She opened her mouth to scream but couldn't get anything out. Feeling increasingly lightheaded she clawed at his arms until the world suddenly went dark around her. *-*-* *-*-* *-*-* She opened her eyes and didn't know who or where she was at first. It was freezing and every part of her body ached, some more than others and especially her knee. She was lying on her side on the ground, rocks and twigs pricking her. Somebody was fumbling at her waist and then she was turned over on her stomach again. There was something tight around her waist and as she thought about that her hands were pulled behind her back and tied together with something soft but unyielding. Still confused, she pulled at the bond. She shook her head to clear it and when she heard the sound of a car engine everything came back to her. The house. Him. Her flight. Panicking, she called out and in a flash his hand was over her mouth again. She sobbed beneath him as the car passed them by, his breath hot in her ear. "And you were so close, huh?" he whispered. When the car had moved away he got up and lifted her to her feet. She was shaking uncontrollably and didn't resist as he started walking her back into the forest, holding her just above the elbow in a firm grip. Her wrists were tightly tied together behind her with the belt from the robe. The belt was also wrapped around her waist, keeping the robe around her body and her hands fastened at the back. She limped beside him, barely being able to lift her feet. The fury from before had drained from her body and now she just wanted to get indoors and lie down. She didn't let herself think about what he would do when they got back. If he would punish her. And how. "You know," he said suddenly. "Nice stunt you pulled calling 911 I had a lovely talk with the operator about how my little kid is always playing with my phone." She didn't answer, it was just another hope shattered. The snow began to fall around them. He didn't seem to want to talk more and for that she was grateful. She didn't think she could take any more of his psychotic chit chat. They moved through the forest in silence and whenever she stumbled he steadied her and she leaned more and more heavily on him. Soon they cleared the forest and walked up the gravel path towards the house. It looked especially nice and inviting now that it was snowing, but she remembered every second of the bedroom and the basement. For a few seconds she resisted and he had to drag her up the porch stairs. Then she gave up and let herself be led inside. What was the point? He would get what he wanted. He helped her up the stairs and then they were back in the bedroom. He kicked off his boots, pulled something from his pocket and turned toward her. He was holding a knife in his hand and she gasped and backed away from him. "Hold still," he said and grabbed her. He carefully severed the belt at the front, allowing the robe to open. He then put away the knife and dragged her to the edge of the bed. He sat down and used the robe to force her down on her knees. He didn't take his eyes off of her as he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. It was semi hard. "Please," she begged. "I'm so cold and so tired." He grabbed her hair, and twisted it, pulling her closer. His cock was rock hard now. "I know you're tired, Laura. That's why I'm gonna fuck your mouth and not your ass. See? I'm nice. So open up." He didn't wait but forced her mouth open and shoved his cock in all the way, making her gag on his length. Then he pulled her head into his lap and started fucking in and out of her mouth. His cock hit the back of her throat with every thrust and she coughed and spluttered. She moved her hands and fingers, trying to get the belt off of her wrists but it was too tightly tied. She kicked her numb legs on the floor, trying to get some leverage to move away but he held her tightly to him as he pumped in and out. As before, she didn't dare bite him and eventually she quieted and just let him fuck her and be done with it. She had a growing suspicion her resistance turned him on even more. When she thought she couldn't take it anymore he finally climaxed with a groan and emptied himself deep in her throat. She started to cough violently but he continued to hold her down and she was forced to swallow most of his cum. When he let her go she sat back and turned away from him, not quite daring to spit on the floor even though she felt an overwhelming urge to. "Not bad, Laura," he sighed as he rose and adjusted his clothes. "Now, I can let you take a hot shower and then get some sleep in the bed. Would you like that?" She nodded mutely, not looking at him. "All you need to do is ask me nicely. I think I deserve that much." She hated to do it but she complied. "Can I take a shower and sleep in the bed, please?" "Hm. Actually, I think I want more of a begging kind of asking, if you know what I mean. Throw some gratitude in there." She glanced at him, unable to hide her look of hatred and utter disgust. "Do it," he said, his voice cold and menacing. "Beg. Or you will sleep naked on the floor of the basement. Beg. Me." She started shaking. What he was asking was so demeaning but she couldn't take any more physical discomfort right now. She was so cold, her knee hurt so badly and in her legs and arms the numbness was wearing off, being replaced by a sharp, painful tingling. "Please... Sir, will you please let me take a shower and go to bed? Please, I.. I beg you." "You wanna go to bed with me?" he enquired, mock wonder in his voice. She jerked and looked at him but quickly found herself. "Yes. I do. Please?" He smiled broadly. "Good! Time for a shower. I told you before that you needed it. That smell is so disgustingly... human." He helped her stand up and led her into the bathroom. The window was still open and he closed it before he freed her hands and pointed to the shower. She shrugged out of the robe and limped into the shower and turned on the water. In a few seconds, hot water was streaming down her naked body. It hurt at first but after a few minutes it was just wonderful, and for a while she just stood with her eyes closed, letting the water warm her body up. Demon Dean Pt. 03 Looking down, she saw that her right knee was black and blue and there was a cut across it. She probed it gingerly. Pain. There was no soap but she washed her knee as thoroughly as possible, and then moved on to the rest of her aching body. There were bumps, cuts and bruises everywhere but nothing serious as far as she could tell. Finally, she washed her hair as best as she could and then just stood in the shower until he reached in and turned the water off. She swallowed hard and felt the fear return to her body as he gave her a towel and motioned for her to come out. "You know, Laura, while you slept I got what I came for. I'm done digging in the cellar. Yessiree Bob. So you'll be happy to know I'm leaving at first light." She felt a spark of hope but it was quickly extinguished when he added, "And you're coming with me." He flashed her a charming smile, his eyes glinting wickedly. "You see, I'm not done with that mouth of yours." *-*-* *-*-* *-*-* Sam awoke with a start. He had had a nightmare about Dean running through a forest. There was nothing unusual about the scenario; the brothers chasing something down happened every other week. But Dean hadn't been chasing a vampire, djinn, werewolf, shapeshifter or witch - as far as Sam could tell. He had been chasing a very scared looking woman. And Dean hadn't seemed like himself. At all. Ah, he probably had had too much sugar for dinner, it was messing with his sleep. Sam tried to relax on the bed and go back to sleep. If he still hadn't heard from Dean after breakfast, he would find a place with internet connection and track his cell phone. Dean would understand, even if he was in bed with a girl somewhere.