Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/675544.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Sam_Winchester/Other(s)
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt_Sam_Winchester, Non_Consensual, Dubious
      Consent, Blindfolds, Blindness, Implied_Underage, Age_Difference,
      Humiliation, Captivity, Bondage, Flogging, Non-Consensual_Drug_Use,
      Orgasm_Control, Orgasm_Delay/Denial, Milking, Brainwashing, Challenge
      Response, Fic_Exchange
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-02-08 Words: 4134
****** Faceless Nameless ******
by hybridshade_(shimyaku)
Summary
     From the beginning, Sam’s Master says he’s going to take good care of
     him. As time goes on, the more parts of himself that Sam loses, the
     more he starts to believe his Master might be right.
     Written for SPN-xmas kink exchange.
Title: Faceless Nameless
Pairing: Sam/??
Rating: nc17
Warnings: angst, h/c, crying, noncon/dubcon, blindness!kink, (vague) age
difference, (vague) underage, captivity, humiliation, flogging, bondage,
sedation and other drugging, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, milking,
brainwashing
Word count: ~4k
Summary: From the beginning, Sam’s Master says he’s going to take good care of
him. As time goes on, the more parts of himself that Sam loses, the more he
starts to believe his Master might be right.
A/N: Written for
[http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=100.6]
vyperdd for the [http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/
community.gif?v=100.6]spn_xmas exchange. I went with your blindness!kink
scenario and added in a few more kinks just for good measure. First thing to
know is that I haven’t really specified who the second party is, so it could be
an OMC or Dean or Lucifer or whoever. Secondly, I haven’t specified Sam’s age
but I wrote this with the notion he was in his mid-teens or thereabouts.
Also, apologies for the slight lateness of this. Don’t have a bigbang due the
day before your exchange fic, kids! It does bad things to your brain OTL
Also also, fits the 'anonymity' square for my Kink_Bingo card which I keep
forgetting about....
 
 
 
At first, Sam fought him.
He fought tooth and nail until his limbs ached and his breaths were laboured,
he fought despite that there was a cloth tied around his eyes and a foul-
smelling gag stuffed between his teeth and he could only guess where his target
was before he threw the next punch. He fought and knew that he landed a few,
maybe not direct hits, but he definitely felt his knuckles meet flesh and heard
the restrained grunts of pain caused and felt accomplishment all the same.
But then He laughed at Sam, laughed and patted his exhausted body as if he were
a child playing a game.
“Oh Pet, your struggles are delightful. I know you think you hate me, but soon…
you’ll realise how much you need me. And you won’t be able to let me go.”
~
Now, Sam can barely remember why he fought back in the first place. He
remembers feeling enraged, frustrated, he knows he lashed out, but then he
remembers a sudden calm washing over him from the inside, His hands gently
patting his hair as He eased his body to the ground.
It’s the earliest memory Sam has of this place, where before there were only
nightmares made real, and after came a great abyss of blankness. Sam knows that
that was when he was being trained, he knows because He talks about it
sometimes. He says it’s probably for the best that he doesn’t remember because
Sam was so strong willed and He had to punish him all the time. Sam agrees that
maybe it is for the best, because even though he still gets punished sometimes,
it’s almost always because of something Sam does by accident. He does his best
to abide by all of His rules and requests, it’s just that sometimes… sometimes
they’re hard for Sam, sometimes Sam finds himself overtaken by fear or pain and
ends up falling short of his goal.
He doesn’t like to admit it to himself, but he gets scared of Him. Of Master.
Sam feels like it’s some sort of betrayal that he would be frightened of the
man who provides him food and water and takes care of him in all ways. But
those times, when He says he wants to try something new, or help Sam reach a
new limit, Sam can’t help the fingers of ice-cold that crawl their way up his
backbone. He knows he shouldn’t feel this way, but he simply can’t control it.
~
“I’ve got a little surprise for you, Sam.”
Sam tenses, and his Master must think it’s in anticipation because He chuckles
and squeezes his shoulder. He is plastered against Sam’s back with His
softening, spent dick still lying in Sam’s loosened hole, dribbles of come and
excess lube trickling down the backs of his thighs. Glancing down Sam sees the
small globs of white sitting there on the blue sheets – Master had wanted him
to come this time, had even put a hand around his cock to urge him on, and Sam
had managed to do as he was asked which meant He must be so pleased.
“You did so well, Pet. You make Master so happy.”
He can tell just how happy Master is, too, since He has started to harden
again, His cock growing and filling out for a second time while it remains
inside Sam. Master’s hips roll and twist all the while, prodding at Sam’s
insides from different angles, sometimes making him hum with enjoyment and
sometimes causing him to flinch with discomfort. He always says how much He
likes to see every emotion Sam has, that it makes Him feel closer to Sam to
know each of the different expressions he possesses.
Occasionally, when he’s feeling rebellious, Sam makes a point of schooling his
features, keeping his reactions in check, and Master will always get angry when
he does such a thing – often yelling or even beating him to get a different
response. It’s just that sometimes Sam can’t handle his Master’s gentleness,
and he craves to be on the other end of someone’s rage, just to remind himself
of what it feels like. He has vague memories of his life before, when he had a
dad and a brother and a shiny black car, where anger and rage and hatred were
all that he knew – he can’t understand it, but he knows instinctively that it’s
important, and personal enough that he keeps it to himself and never breathes a
word to his Master.
Now though, he just lets it happen, lets his Master take from his body without
complaint, which is how He likes it best. Sam buries his head in a pillow to
conceal his childish whimpering, and exhales in relief when his Master finally
climaxes again, His limp cock pulling all the way out this time, leaving behind
a trail of pungent wetness.
“Look what you did,” his Master tuts, pulling his ass-cheeks apart to rub at
his loose, messy hole with His thumb, “I was about to give you your surprise,
but then you go and distract me with that voracious body of yours.”
Sam isn’t sure if he’s expected to apologise – sometimes he is, and Master will
go to any lengths to get an acceptably distressed ‘I’m sorry’ – but this time
He makes no mention of it and reaches over to the bedside table to retrieve a
small bottle not even the size of his pinky-finger.
“Just lie back for me, Pet, and look straight up at me.”
He does as he’s told, lying back on the bed and staring up at his Master’s face
while He fiddles with the bottle. Sam doesn’t see His face very often since
he’s usually wearing some kind of mask or blindfold, but even in the dim light
of the bedroom he can make out enough detail to commit the face to memory. He’s
always struck by how young his Master looks – while he’s wearing the blindfold
he generally forgets about His face and associates only with his voice – but
he’s pretty sure this man wouldn’t quite be old enough to be his father, or at
least, the father of someone Sam’s age. But he isn’t given long to ponder the
thought, as his Master sits by him and leans over his face, gently prying apart
his eyelids and dropping a small amount of liquid from the bottle into each of
his eyes.
Blinking rapidly, Sam clears away the blurriness from the drops and stares up
at his Master in confusion. If that was his surprise he’s not sure what it
means, but his Master merely chuckles and pats his hair like one would pat a
puppy until he falls asleep.
“Soon, Sam, you’re going to be just perfect.”
~
Upon waking, Sam finds himself feeling dizzy and disoriented, and for some
reason he can’t quite get his vision to focus. He slides from the bed with the
intention of washing his face, but the room suddenly spins around him and he
stumbles over his feet, barely making it to the bathroom in time to empty last
night’s meal into the toilet bowl.
Master finds him a few minutes later, still kneeling on the bathroom floor, and
helps him to bathe and dress in another oversized t-shirt that barely reaches
his thighs. He mentions nothing about whether Sam might be ill, merely whisks
him back to the bathroom when Sam looks on the verge of throwing up, and places
a wet washcloth over his face after sending him back to bed. He still insists
on completing their usual daily routine though, watching as Sam swallows each
of his half-dozen ‘vitamins’ of various shapes and colours, and then including
the new procedure of administering the eye drops.
Sam isn’t a fool; he knows well that his ‘vitamins’ aren’t vitamins at all.
Over time he’s managed to figure out what most of them do, though a couple of
them still remain a mystery. He knows that round, white one reduces his
outbursts of anger, the pink, diamond-shaped one numbs the rest of his
emotions, the orange one makes him sleepy all the time, and the blue one… The
blue one is something to do with hormones – he remembers hearing Master say
that once – and since he started taking it he’s lost whatever muscles he once
had, his stomach has gone all soft, his cock and balls have shrunk a bit, and
he never feels like jerking off anymore. It’s that last thing that probably
makes Sam saddest of all. He has memories of doing it every morning in the
shower and every night before bed and sometimes even in the middle of the day
as well. Nowadays, it’s difficult enough to even get it hard, let alone to make
himself come.
His Master knows that though, and He understands, so most of the time He
doesn’t expect Sam to come while He’s fucking him. He’s always pleased if He
can get Sam to the point of being hard, but it’s only on a rare occasion that
He demands that Sam come, and those are often a disappointment for Master,
since it means if Sam can’t manage it then he has to be punished.
Today though, especially because Sam isn’t feeling so well, Master only expects
him to lie there. He uses pink ribbons to tie Sam up, ‘just for fun’ He says,
attaching his wrists to the headboard and creating a makeshift cage around his
genitals, wrapping the ribbon around and around the shaft of his dick and each
of his balls individually and securing it all with a bow. Master has done
similar things to him before, tying him up or using a proper cock cage on him,
but the fact that this time He’s done it with a ribbon – a pink one – makes it
feel that much worse somehow, the shame is almost more than he can bear.
So as his Master fucks into him from behind, sending his already unsettled head
into an all-out spin, Sam pushes his face into a pillow to hide the tracks of
tears running down his cheeks.
~
Three whole days have passed since Master first gave him the drops, and it’s on
this day that Sam finally wakes to the realisation of what Master’s ‘surprise’
was. When he opens his eyes for the first time that morning, Sam thinks that
the lights must all be off and the curtains still closed since it’s so dark he
can hardly see. So he tries turning on the lamp beside the bed, but the bulb
seems to have blown, and then he hops off the bed and over to the window,
sliding open the heavy curtains to let the sun pour in.
He knows that the sun is out because he can feel the warmth of it piercing
through the window glass and landing on his skin, but all he can see is a
wealth of shadows and a vague circle of blurry light when he looks straight
ahead. He remembers hearing once about something called ‘tunnel-vision’, and
wonders if his recent illness has somehow caused damage to his head. But then
he thinks of the eye drops, and it hurts to consider that his Master has
purposely robbed him of such a thing.
Fumbling about the room, he manages to turn on all the lights and even find a
small torch in the bedside table. He stares at the illuminated lamps,
concentrating hard on where the brightest circle of light is coming from, and
then turns to the torch doing the same thing, shining the beam of light
straight at his eyes and staring at it for as long as he can tolerate. He
repeats it several times until a sudden throbbing ache starts building in the
back of his skull and demands that he not look at the torch anymore. With a
grunt of frustration he throws the torch to the floor and curls back up on the
bed, pushing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets to try and relieve the
pain.
It’s like this that his Master finds him a few minutes later, hastening to
Sam’s side to wipe his tears and find out what’s the matter. Sam tells Him that
it hurts and can’t see properly, that there’s something wrong with his eyes,
but He hushes him and turns all the lights back off, telling Sam that
everything will be alright.
“Don’t worry, Sam. It will get better soon, I promise.”
Sam isn’t sure he believes Him, such is the intensity of the ache behind his
eyes. But Master lays him down with a cold compress over his forehead, and
props his hips up with a pillow. Slick fingers play with his opening for a long
time, massaging and stretching and probing inside, until He has four fingers
pushed into Sam’s ass and Sam can’t help the heavy breaths leaving his mouth.
His Master chuckles from below him and withdraws His fingers with a wet
squelching sound, replacing them with His hard, but dry, cock. He drives in
without preamble, the slide is easy thanks to the looseness of his hole, but
after a few thrusts the lube is starting to dry up and Sam can’t help but
whimper at the rough drag of his flesh along the length of Master’s dick.
“See, Pet? Master will take the pain away.”
Sam nods because it’s true. He’s forgotten about his pain because his Master is
too hard to ignore.
~
The next day Sam’s sight is actually slightly better, and he has to wonder if
Master really meant what he’d said. But as the day wears on he wonders if it
really is ‘better’, if seeing things by halves is one-up on not seeing them at
all. It’s grey and stormy outside which means the house is shrouded in more
darkness than usual, and as Sam attempts to navigate through the half-light -
since he’s too stubborn to flick on a light switch or two - he nearly jumps out
of his skin when the shadows that have been hanging back in his periphery
suddenly encroach on the main expanse of his vision. They twirl and spin in
front of him like some strange, irksome creature from the deep, before
disappearing back into the corner of his eye, and Sam can’t quite handle the
threat of it happening again, can’t stop the shaking that wracks his limbs.
Master finds him over an hour later, crouched down in the bottom of a wardrobe.
He doesn’t remember how he got there, only that he’d been desperate for
somewhere small and quiet and it had been the first place that came to mind. As
expected, Master doesn’t like him being in there since He can’t reach him
easily when Sam’s hidden away under all the clothes and other things, so he
pulls Sam out by the wrist and drags him briskly through the house and back to
the bedroom. All the way there are windows ajar and gusts of wind blowing
inside, making whistling sounds through the shutters and moving the curtains
about, which to Sam looks like the silhouettes of ghosts coming straight for
him, and the subtle but brief drops in temperature causing his hair to stand on
end.
By the time Master is pushing him impatiently down onto the bed, Sam is
vibrating with fear and blubbering sobs are tumbling uncontrollably from his
mouth. Master pulls the clothes from his body and enfolds him in His arms,
touching and stroking him all over in an effort to calm him. But despite all
His attempts to quiet him down, Sam still can’t stop his tearful whimpering,
prompting Him to slap Sam with frustration.
“Since you can’t silence yourself, I’ll just have to find another way, won’t I,
Pet?”
Moments later his Master was slipping a mask over his eyes and ears, cutting
out both senses completely. Then he is being tugged down the bed and rolled on
top of his Master’s body, something warm and firm nudging at his lips. Sam
parts them just a little bit and He quickly shoves the whole of His half-hard
cock into Sam’s mouth, causing him to cough but not letting him back away
either. Master’s hand curls into the long hair at the back of his neck and
fixes his position, allowing his Master to control any movements they make.
There’s saliva leaking all over his chin and down his neck, but He doesn’t seem
to mind, He just hold’s Sam right where he is, always making sure Sam’s got at
least a portion of His cock between his lips.
Sam has no idea how long the act lasts for – his eyes and ears are his easiest
way of measuring time, so without those he’s all but lost – but it feels like
hours that they lie there on the bed connected like that. Eventually Master
spills His come down Sam’s throat, compelling him to swallow, and when He
finally pulls away, Sam manages to remain silent, even if his cheeks still
aren’t dry.
~
It’s a week before everything goes completely dark.
Sam feels useless as he stumbles around; knocking into things that he’s sure
weren’t there before. He’s got cuts and bruises all over his feet and legs, a
burn on his hand, and a black eye from running into a door that he’d thought
was open. Master keeps shepherding him to the sofa or back to the bed in order
to try and keep him out of trouble, wrapping him in thick bandages that weigh
his limbs down and make him too tired to stand. He tells Sam it’s for the best,
that he needs to have more trust in his Master to take care of him and keep him
safe. But Sam, he’s always been stubborn, he even remembers his father calling
him that when he was a child.
When he has the energy, Sam still flings himself out of bed, ignoring His
wishes while he tries to bathe or dress or feed himself without any help. It’s
inevitable that something always goes wrong, and Sam usually ends up hurt
again, which angers his Master and sees Sam on the back end of a leather belt
on more than one occasion.
Things continue this way for enough days that Sam loses count, until one day -
when Sam’s still wearing blue and purple stripes on his ass and the back of his
thighs - he still tries to get himself out of bed, but feels his head whirl as
soon as he stands upright, sending him toppling straight to the ground. He must
blackout, because the next time he rouses he’s back in the bed and Master’s
beside him, caressing his face. Master scolds him for disobeying yet again, but
assures Sam He’s going to take care of things this time so he doesn’t hurt
himself anymore.
Sam trusts Master when He says he’ll ‘take care of things’. He’s said it
before, like when Sam used to be angry all the time, and that was when He
started giving Sam the little white pills. They worked almost immediately, so
Sam is sure that his Master always knows what He’s doing. This time is a little
bit different though, for when Sam next awakens, Master is nowhere to be found,
and when he tries to stand up and move away from the bed something pulls at his
neck, stopping him in his tracks. Sam inspects the device with his hands and
decides it’s some kind of padded, metal dog-collar, with a heavy chain that
leads back to the headboard, securing him to the wall behind the bed. He can’t
find any way to unbuckle or unclip the collar, so he tugs at it fiercely until
the skin around his throat feels hot and raw.
Dismayed, he calls out to Master repeatedly, but nobody comes. He stops calling
after the tenth time, annoyed with his Master’s disregard, and curls up under
the sheets in a huff. He finds he can’t get himself to sleep, and by then he’s
both hungry and needing to visit the bathroom. He tries calling for Master
again but there’s no response, and after an hour or so of building desperation,
he can’t hold it in anymore and he wets the bed, tears flowing down from the
embarrassment of doing something only little kids did.
It’s well past dinner time when his Master finally returns, and He taunts Sam
for making a mess, and then coddles him when he starts to cry. He takes Sam to
the shower then, complete with collar and chain in tow, and returns him to a
freshly made bed, re-attaching the chain to the wall and pulling it tight.
“You’ll learn, Pet,” his Master assures him as He plunges His cock into Sam’s
ass, chuckling lightly each time Sam slips down the satin-y bed sheets, causing
him to choke for a moment. “You’ll learn that only I can ever give you the
things you need. I’ll do everything for you, Pet. That’s what Masters are
supposed to do.”
His Master kisses him then, plundering his mouth and stealing his breath away
until Sam’s red in the face. He bites down on Sam’s neck, and then his nipples
and his stomach, and when He’s reached the edge he pulls out of Sam’s hole and
comes all over his abdomen, hot dollops landing on his cock and the inside of
his thighs. His Master then moves down his body and takes Sam’s soft cock
between his lips, sucking and licking while he slips a finger back in his ass
and rubs at that spot that makes his stomach feel all ticklish.
It takes a while but eventually something clenches inside him, and Sam feels
his Master pull away just in time for that ‘tight’ feeling to release, a couple
of small, wet drops falling onto his stomach.
“See, Sam? Master even takes care of those things you can’t do yourself.”
~
A long time has passed since Sam’s world first went dark.
“See, Pet? You’re perfect now,” his Master says this all the time. Except that
Sam doesn’t see.
It still bothers him sometimes. He still gets intense headaches that keep him
in bed most of the day, and the eye drops still make him nauseous every now and
then, but Sam hardly remembers things being any different, so he supposes he’s
just used to it now. Occasionally he’ll start crying for no reason, and Master
will spend the rest of the day touching him and fucking him until the tears
stop. Any time he’s out of sorts or can’t sleep, Master will fill his hole with
His cock and Sam’s troubled thoughts will fade away for a while.
He has vague memories that it was once His cock and hands that were the reason
for his tears, but it was so long ago now that Sam wonders if those memories
are even real, or if they’re just a bad dream. He has dreams all the time these
days, ever since his sight went away. He dreams of a brother and a father and a
shiny black car. He dreams of needles and funny shaped pills and leather belts
leaving multi-coloured stripes on his skin.
But he’s forgotten what cars look like and what shapes and stripes and colours
are. Whenever he asks a question his Master reassures him that they’re things
he doesn’t need to know anymore - Master takes care of him and that’s
everything that he needs to know.
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