Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2632436.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Sam_Winchester/Original_Male_Character
      (s), Dean_Winchester/Original_Female_Character(s)
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, John_Winchester, Bobby_Singer, Original
      Male_Character(s), Original_Female_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      AU, Angst, Dysfunctional_Relationship, Feminization, Rape/Non-con
      Elements, dub-con, Domestic_Violance, Child_Abuse, Child_Neglect, Drug
      Use, Asshole!John, Not_a_Happy_Story, Sam_likes_to_dress_like_a_girl_or
      be_feminin_at_times, Dean_calls_hims_slurs_because_of_that, addition
      warning_in_chapter_summery, some_chpaters_include_nsfw_pictures, deals
      with_pedophilia_at_parts, Bottom_Sam, Top_Dean
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-11-17 Updated: 2015-11-11 Chapters: 17/? Words: 19835
****** Trailer Park Verse ******
by Tina_J2
Summary
     Sam and Dean grew up poor and in a trailer park. Mary ran away and
     left her kids and husband. John is a drunk, Dean an asshole and Sam
     kinda a slut. Through their shitty life, Sam and Dean fight, love and
     hate, but at the end of the day they're all they have left.
Notes
     I'm not a native English speaker, so sorry for possible misspelling
     in advance.
***** Part 1 *****
[image]
[image]
Dean was leaning back against their mobile home, dragging on his cigarette,
watching the surrounding with hard eyes as he waited for Sam to show up.
The air around Dean was hot and humid, Alabama’s summer only bearable inside
with an air conditioner. They had one rattling inside their crappy home, but
Dean was in to bad a mood as well as had no interest in being anywhere near
their drunk ass of a father and the stench he spread inside.
School has ended hours ago and the his little shit of a brother wasn’t home yet
didn’t pick up his phone, so Dean had no clue where Sam went, or with who. He
sure as hell wasn’t hanging out with anyone from the trailer park they lived
in, since Sam hated everybody here.
The last Dean saw of him was this morning.
//
Sam was still lying on the crappy mattress, that was their bed in the room they
shared, fingers of one hand holding the cigarette he was slowly smoking, while
stroking over his flat stomach with the fingers of his other. Dean was leaning
against the door frame, drinking his morning beer, watching the movement of
Sam’s hand as it traveled down to play with the elastic of the bright pink lace
panties he was wearing, which were doing nothing to hide the bulge of Sam’s
dick and only emphasized it by being so tight. His brother was kinda a freak,
liking girly stuff way to much.
“You should come back to bed, spend the day fucking me,” Sam had pouted, slim
hips canting up in invitation.
Dean had watched the movement, finishing his beer with a load burp, throwing
the can in the general direction of the over flowing trash bin. “Gotta go and
work, Sammy, somebody around here gotta earn the money to get food on the table
and pay the bills. Since that piece of shit won’t move his sorry ass!” The last
sentence was a load call directed towards their fathers room, but got no
reaction as always.
Taking the few steps to the mattress, Sam was already sitting up and stretching
his head upwards to receive his goodbye kiss as Dean leaned down, grabbing
Sam’s longish hair to deepen the kiss and keep him in place.
“My pussy’s gonna miss ya!” Sam was calling after him.
“It’s called an asshole, you freak. Remember that before you really start think
you’re a girl!” Dean called back and with that and a load bang, was out of the
front door.
//
When Dean got back from his work in Jose’s garage, he expected Sam to be there
or at least near by, but wrong. Sam was nowhere to be found. This had been
happening quite often over the last few couple of months. Sam disappearing to
god knows where.
Dean looked up as he heard a car approaching and was blinded by headlights.
A black SUV pulled up near their trailer, looking way out of place in their
trashy neighborhood. The motor went silent and he could hear Sam’s giggle. He
looked up and watched what was happening inside the car.
Sam was leaning towards a guy, flirty grin in place, who looked like he could
be Sam’s father, and pressing there lips together. The guys hand come up to
Sam’s neck to pull him closer, Dean saw the flicker of tongues. And then the
passenger door was opening and Sam’s “See ya Saturday.” sounded through the air
as he stepped out and the car was pulling away.
As the car was driving away Sam turned around and grinned at Dean, not fazed by
the angry scowl his big brother was giving him.
“Where the fuck have you been!” Dean was mad and part of the reason for that
was what he just witnessed.
Sam was still smiling walking closer, wearing a black sleeveless loose shirt
with a to deep cleavage to be for boys, tight jeans torn at the knees, worn
Chuck’s and silver bracelets shining on his wrists. “Don’t be like that, Dean-
o.”
“Sam.” Dean’s voice was hard this time, leaving no room for bullshit.
“Spend the day with a friend!”
“Friend, Sam? The guy is like what? 50?”
“Actually, he is 43 and his name is Karl.”
Sam was way to cheery for Dean’s liking. “And does Karl know you just only
turned 15?”
By now Sam was standing toe to toe with him, that stupid grin still on his face
and for a moment, Dean wanted to just fucking lash out and punch that stupid
grin of his brothers face. Would serve the bitch right anyway, for playing all
coy.
Sam made a show of reaching into the front pocket of Dean’s dirty work overall
and pulling out the package of cigarettes and lighting himself one, exhaling
the smoke out with pursed lips.
“Karl knows. It’s what’s makin his dick so hard!”
Dean could fill his whole body tense in anger, fists curling.
“Aww, Dean, don’t be like that! No need to be all jealous just cause you’re not
the only dick I’m sucking. You don’t see me making a fuss about you fucking
Kelly while you’re ‘out for a beer’!”
tbc...
***** Part 2 *****
Dean couldn’t fucking believe his ears. Sam’s nerve to talk to him like that!
“Shut the fuck up, Sam!”
“You know what the best thing about Karl is? If I suck his dick good enough or
let him fuck me, he buys me nice things.” Sam blow out smoke into Dean’s face.
“Like this phone here!” Sam got out a new I-Phone from his back pocket,
smirking at Dean.
Dean had about enough of his brothers behavior.
In the next moment, Sam was crushed into the wall of the trailer, Dean holding
him by his throat, snarling into his face: “So you whore yourself out for
phones now!?”
Sam’s hands came up, wrapping them around the wrist of the hand squeezing his
throat. “Fuck off, Dean.”
Dean grabbed the phone out of Sam’s hand and threw it hard to the side, hearing
it crash on the ground.
“Hey! That was mine, you fucker!”
Dean’s face was inches from Sam’s, the older man using his bigger body to push
his brother into the trailer, bodies pressed close. “I think you need a lesson
on how to talk to me, Sammy.”
Suddenly there was pain. Dean screamed out and was curling into himself and
falling to the ground, clutching his groin.
Sam had kneeled him in his crotch. Hard.
“You’re such an asshole Dean! Fucking around behind my back and getting mad
when I do the same,” Sam was screaming, standing above Dean. “Karl asked me to
move in with him. Maybe I should take him up on it, then I would finally be out
of this shithole! I’d finally get rid of you!”
With that Sam was storming off into the trailer, the door banging shut behind
him.
Dean was boiling with rage. It took him a few more moments to get over the pain
radiating from his dick, then he was up and going after Sam.
The little shit would get what was coming to him.
He stomped into the trailer. Past John - passed out on the loveseat in front
the TV, open whiskey bottle oozing liquid onto the already stained carpet - and
into their tiny kitchen area.
Sam was rummaging inside the fridge. Before he could react to hearing Dean
inside, Dean had one of Sam’s arms twisted painfully behind his back and Dean’
other hand was holding Sam by the nape of his neck. Holding him like that, Sam
screaming profenities, Dean dragged him into their room.
He threw Sam onto their mattress and followed him, holding Sam’s smaller body
down with his own.
“Gonna teach you who you belong to, bitch!”
“Let go of me Dean!” Sam was trashing beneath him, trying to push Dean off.
“Shut the fuck up.” Dean backhanded him, Sam’s head snapping to the side.
Using Sam’s momentary shock, Dean turned Sam onto his stomach. One of Dean’s
hands grabbed Sam’s hair, pressing his head into the mattress, the other hand
moved down to Sam’s jeans and started to pull them down.
“Stop it!” Sam was screaming, trying to push up with his arms and get away. But
Dean had the advantage in strength and position.
Dean barely heard Sam. His stupid little brother who did what the fuck he
wanted and talked to him with no respect. Sam who threatened to get away and
leave him, after all he had done for him. Dean felt his heart beat rise, his
breathing was heavy and shallow.
Dean finally managed to pull down Sam’s jeans. Beneath it, a small triangle of
black lace, the string attached to it disappearing into the crack of Sam’s ass.
A black thong. Dean ripped it of with one pull.
“Dean stop!” Voice full of panic, Sam still was trashing, still resisting.
Dean went for his own zipper, considering the best way to get out of his
overall without losing his hold on Sam, that’s when he noticed the stillness in
the room and it made him stop.
Sam didn’t move anymore, didn’t scream.
There was barely light in the room. But with the little there was, Dean could
see the side of Sam’s face. Could see his eyes squeezed shut and the wetness on
his cheek, felt Sam’s body shudder with a sob.
Dean snapped out of his furry and scrambled away from Sam.
Sam was curling into himself on his side, back to Dean, still shaking with
soundless tears.
Dean dragged his hand down his face. Fuck, oh fuck. He couldn’t believe how far
he had almost let this go. Couldn’t believe what he had almost done.
The silence in the room grew stifling.
“Sammy,” Dean finally dared to speak up. “Sammy, I’m so sorry.”
He shuffled closer on his knees. No reply from Sam.
“You rile me up so much, Sammy, my brain just stops working.”
No reaction, just sniffling.
“Sammy, please say something.” One of Dean’s hands reached towards Sam but
stopped mid air, didn’t dare to touch.
“You scared me,” was Sam’s quite reply, his voice sounding wet. “I really
thought you would rape..,” Sam broke of on a sob.
“I’m sorry.” Dean knew he sounded lame, but all he could do was apologize.
Dean lay down behind Sam as close as he dared. Carefully he touched his
brothers shoulder, cupping it in his palm and stroking the skin there with his
thumb.
After a few minutes Sam turned around, he looked at Dean with wet eyes.
Dean didn’t know what to say, just reached the few inches between them and
caressed Sam’s cheek. Felt his heart swell with sadness and love. Didn’t know
how to make up what he almost did.
“Maybe it’s better you want to leave with Karl. I’d want to get away from me
too,” Dean said.
Sam was moving, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and pressing his face into
Dean’s collar bone. “You’re an idiot.”
Dean hugged him back. Clutching Sam close.
In the darkness of their room, it was so much easier to be gentle, try and put
their feeling into words. So much easier then in the harsh light of day. When
there was no way to hide from their day to day life.
A life with a father who didn’t care. Who just drank all day, would sell
anything for booze – tried to sell Sam for it once. But as long as Sam was a
minor, they had to stay with John, pretend all was fine or risk child service
to pay them a visit.
Money was barely enough for food, often none left for gas or power. Stealing
was normal, Dean selling some drugs here and there, turning tricks when there
was no other way to get by.
Their life lead them to a closeness that was not normal for siblings, but
neither of them cared. But the outside would care and they had to hide. Hence
Dean having a girlfriend and meeting girls. Had to hold up an image.
With their mom gone, Dean had raised Sam, always looked out for him, protected
him from anything and anyone, failed a few times.
And now it seemed like Sam also needed protection from him.
If it meant a better life, Dean would let Sammy go.
“Stop thinking so much.” Sam kissed Deans skin. “Dean?”
“Hmm.”
They were still clutching each other.
“You can do what you want to me, I’ll never leave.”
tbc...
***** Part 3 *****
Chapter Summary
     After their fight, Sam and Dean make up
The light shining on his face woke Dean up. He scrunched up his nose and
squeezed his eyes shut, tried to turn away but the body lying beside him
prevented him from it, a head lying on chest.
Dean opened his eyes. Sam was on his side curled against Dean.
Sometime after their fight and falling asleep, Sam must have gotten up and
changed, cause he was dressed differently. Gone were the jeans and the black
top, Sam was now in leg long grey wool tights, ending almost at his crotch, a
purple shirt and panties of the same color, his longish hair tied back into a
ponytail.
Dean never understood that side of Sam. Not enough his brother was openly gay,
which was hard enough living in the Southern States, he also liked to dress in
what looked more like a girl then what a boy would ever wear. Weirdly enough,
as long as he dressed and acted the part of some slutty girl, people weren’t to
hard on him. Dean even knew of enough men who had made a pass on Sam. Seems
like at the end of the day a hole was a hole.
He would lie if he said Sam’s kind of style had never turned him on.
He had once asked Sam about the way he dressed and Sam just said it was who he
was and the way he wanted to be.
Dean made a joke of it: “So what, as soon as you turn 18 I should expect to get
a sister, Samentha? You gonna get tits? Will ya keep your dick?”
Sam gave him his typical bitch face and scowled at him: “Shut up, Dean. That’s
not what I want.”
Beside him Sammy was stirring, cuddling his face into Dean’s chest before
finally moving and stretching, then blinking up at Dean with sleepy eyes.
“Have you been a creep again and watched me sleep,” he asked instead of a good
morning.
Dean didn’t reply, just looked down Sam’s body as he stretched once more with
his whole body, his legs falling open and Dean had a nice view of the bulge in
Sam’s panties.
[image]
Sam was turning into him again, throwing a leg over Dean’s waist and one arm
across his chest, face burrowing into his brothers neck. “Like what you see,
Dean?” He rolled the rest of the way onto Dean, straddling his waist, his hands
on Dean’s packs, smiling down at him. “You know, I heard make-up sex is
awesome.”
Now being able to really see Sam’s face, Dean saw the dark bruise forming where
he had slapped his brother last night. His stomach twisted and he reached up
with a hand, caressing the bruised skin with the back of his fingers.
Sam didn’t allow the touch for long, he grabbed both of his older brother’s
wrists and pushed them down beside Dean’s head, hovering over him. “Quite
dwelling on last night, Dean. You wouldn’t be the first guy to smack me
around.”
“Sam,” Dean didn’t like what Sam was implying.
The younger boy ignored him, rolled his hips back against his brothers crotch.
“Don’t be such a spoil spot when we could be doing better things, like you
fucking me.” Sam leaned down, claiming Dean’s mouth in a kiss and after a
moments hesitation his brother was kissing back. Their tongues twisting, Sam’s
hands were opening the zipper on the overalls Dean still was wearing, helping
his brother out of it, leaving his lap to get them off, then his boxer shorts.
Sam straddled the now nude Dean, they started to kiss once more, hands
caressing skin. Dean got the lube from under the pillow, gave it to Sam,
watched as his brother set up, lubing his fingers, reaching back to pull the
panties aside and push his finger in, preparing himself. When he felt ready
enough, he lubed up Dean’s dick and sank down on it, moaning.
Dean’s hands on Sam’s slim hips, he watched his brother ride him. The wet tip
of Sam’s hard dick was pocking out of the panties he still was wearing.
“Say it, Dean, please.”
Dean knew what he wanted. When the sex was good, Sam always asked for this. It
always made Dean feel awkward at first, getting those words out. But he did it
anyway, knowing how much Sam got off on them.
“Such a pretty girl, Sammy, riding big brothers cock like a pro.” He watched
Sam’s face flush, bite his lips.
Dean set up, wrapping his arms around Sammy. When he first overcame his
reservation, the rest of the words came out without problems. “Such a tight
pussy you’ve got on you, baby.” He was bouncing Sam’s lighter body up and down
on his dick now. “My sweet girl, always taking such good care of me.”
A few thrusts later, Dean was lifting Sam off of his dick, pushing Sam onto his
stomach, getting behind his brother, pushing his hips up with one hand,
spreading his thighs with his knees Dean was pushing back in, fucking Sam hard.
Sam was beyond words, just whining and groaning, pushing back on Dean’s cock as
well as he could.
Dean kissed up Sam’s spine up to his ear. “Want me to play with your little
clit, baby girl,” he asked, but it were only words. He knew Sam didn’t like his
dick touched when he was fucked, preferred on coming just with the stimulation
a dick could provide.
Soon Sam was coming, Dean following close behind, filling his brother up with
his come.
After coming down from their high, they lay on the mattress beside each other,
each having a smoke.
“Gotta get up for work soon,” Dean said.
“Yeah.”
“And your going to school today, Sammy. Can’t risk the school asking around why
you’re skipping that much.”
“Don’t worry Dean, I’ll go.” He turned to Dean, smirking. “Am not meeting Karl
till Saturday anyway, so lot’s of free time.”
Dean scowled, feeling anger building inside him. Before he could get out
anything, Sam continued sounding determined: “As long as you are dating Kelly,
you have no right to tell me whom I can see or not see. So you better get used
to it, I’m not stopping fucking him.” Sam leaned down to whisper the last part
into Dean’s ear.
“Or you could just beat me up black and blue, rape me till I can’t walk and
make sure like that I'd never leave.”
Sometimes, Dean wished Sam would just shut the fuck up.
***** Part 4 *****
Chapter Summary
     Dean remembers some things from his past
When Dean was 13, John still had a job. Worked at a local waste disposal. He
did bring money back home, but his kids didn't see much of it. It was spend on
drugs and booze, John often disappearing over the weekend, leaving Dean alone
to care for Sammy. Usually Dean just stole what money was really necessary out
of John's wallet, when their dad was passed out or wasn't looking.
When Dean complained, John told him to get a job, laughing, since he knew Dean
was to young.
Once John started making jokes about guys ready to pay for Sammy's sweet ass,
Dean stopped complaining about money. He would just start to steal what they
needed.
There was an old gas station, which also was a garage and junk yard three miles
away from their trailer park. Dean would walk there and steal what he could
sneak out unnoticed.
The fourth time there he got caught.
The old beardy guy grabbing him buy his hood when he tried to walk out. Dean
fought, but the guy had a strong grip. Afraid the gas station owner would call
the cops, Dean offered to do anything, told him he'd even give him a blowjob,
if he let him go, that he'll never come back.
They old guy just looked disgusted, told him he was no pervert lusting after
little kids. Said Dean could help at the gas station and work off what he stole
those few times.
Dean agreed.
The guy, Bobby he introduced himself, made him clean the filthy stalls that
first day. But at least Dean got to keep the food he had tried to steal.
After this Dean started to help out at Bobby's gas station. For the work he
did, he was allowed to take food, sometimes even got a few dollars in addition.
Since he didn't want to leave Sam home alone to much, he took him with him.
Sam and Bobby hit it off.
Where Sam was a quite and somber kid at home, with Bobby he soon was talking
and laughing.
If they showed up with bruises after a beating for pissing John off, Bobby
didn't say anything, just looked at the wounds to check if their needed any
medical attention.
Bobby even got them things, like clothing, toys or stuff for school. Even
cooked for them. Dean would never forget the look of delight on Sam's face when
he had French Toast with maple sirup for the first time.
Bobby taught Dean about cars. Showing him how to work on them using the cars in
the junk yard. Bobby's favorite car was an old '69 Chevrolet Impala. He often
talked about restoring it one day and make it shiny and new.
Dean fell in love with the car. Made Bobby show him all he needed to know about
it's mechanics, would read up in magazines and Bobby's computer about how to
restore the old classic car, looked at pictures of how it should look.
When Dean was 15, Bobby died.
He was shot in a robbery.
Since Bobby had no family, anything that was worth any money went up for
auction. The Impala one of those things.
Bobby's gas station soon got demolished, making room for a mall.
Years later, a guy brought an old beat up Impala to the garage Dean worked at.
He had to work extra hours for a month to afford the $300 it cost.
It barely drove, sounded more like a broke tractor then a car, was rusty,
leather torn on the sits, smelled like something had died inside it.
Sam had made fun of it, laughed. But stopped when he saw the advantage of
having a car. Dean drove out with him, the car giving them the opportunity to
get to private places to fuck.
The car was ugly and broken, nothing of worth for John to take away and to
sell.
No matter how it looked, it was his and Dean loved it.
[image]
[image]
[image]
[image]
And in Bobby's memory, one day he would make it shiny and new.
***** Part 5 *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam watches Dean with Kelly, old insecurities rise to the surface.
-
Sam stood at the slightly ajar door to his and Dean's room. The sounds coming
from inside it had made him walk to the door when he got home from school and
peak inside.
Dean was on the mattress, a woman riding him hard and fast. Going by the dark
locks falling down to her waist, it was Kelly.
Sam watched them fuck.
Watched Dean hold her slim hips, help her ride him, looked at her pussy sliding
up and down on Dean's dick. Listened to her over the top moaning, how she
begged for Dean to fuck her harder, listened to Dean praise her, call her baby.
Dean's hands came up from holding her hips squeezing her boobs, her hands
covering his as she bend down, both sharing a kiss. Dean's arms wrapped around
her waist and he set up, fucking her harder, burrowing his face in her tits,
sucking and kissing.
Sam's hand unconsciously came up to press against his own flat chest.
Dean looked up after kissing along her shoulder, and his gaze locked with
Sam's. They starred into each other eyes a few moments, then Dean's hands were
grabbing Kelly's hair and pulling her into a hard kiss, breaking their eye
contact.
Sam closed the door.
He leaned his forehead against the door, still could hear them fuck, felt a
burn in his eyes.
Stupid Dean and his stupid girlfriend. Why did he had to bring her here? To
their home. To their room. Fuck her on the mattress where he used to fuck him.
He hated how Kelly made him feel. It's not like Dean hasn't been fucking around
with girls before she came along. But before her, it was a new girl almost
every week. Kelly however, was actually his girlfriend. They've been seeing
each other for almost five months now. Dean liked her.
And Sam wondered if Dean liked her more then he did him. Kelly was normal, was
save. No hiding required with her. She was a grown woman, not a stupid kid
brother, who was some faggot and a freak on top.
Angry he wiped at his eyes and stepped away from the door, stomping into the
kitchen he opened the fridge and grabbed the bottle of Gin, opening it and
gulping down a few swallows right out of the bottle.
Lighting a cigarette he sat down at the small table in the dining area, got out
his phone and called Karl, said what Karl loved to hear “Come pick me up,
Daddy, please”. Sam would not sit around and mope because of Dean and his
stupid girlfriend.
Twenty minutes later he heard the bedroom door open followed by their laughter
and voices.
“Hallo Sammy,” Kelly greeted him. It sounded insincere.
She turned to Dean, pulled him into a kiss. “See ya tomorrow,” she said, turned
to Sam and gave him an inferior smile, like she knew exactly how she made him
feel...
[image]
…. and then was walking away, taking hold of Dean's hand till the distance made
their grip break up and soon was out the door.
As soon as she was gone, Sam was up and went into their bedroom, he needed to
change.
“Sammy,” Dean called after him but Sam ignored him. The room stank of sex, but
Sam just tried no to think about it. He quickly shed his jeans shorts,
underwear and the string top he had been wearing and rummaged through the
drawers of his commode for something suitable to wear for when Karl picked him
up.
He had put on a body, encasing him crotch over torso and chest in black lace,
black straps on his shoulders. Dean entered the room, leaned against the door-
frame, looking him up and down.
“The fuck are you wearing, Sam. At least you could try to not always look like
some tranny freak.”
Sam ignored the pang of hurt he felt, ignored Dean.
In the mirror ho saw a steel tray beside the mattress, white flocks on it and a
short straw. Dean always turned even more into an ass when he was on meth.
He put his jeans shorts back on, looked into the mirror on the commode to comb
his hair to the side, securing it with a clip that had a little black bow.
“Where are you going?”
“Karl,” was his clipped answer, while applying some mascara to his whimpers.
“You're still seeing that perve?”
There was the sound of a horn blaring from outside.
Sam finally turned to Dean. Sat his face into an angry mask, tried not to let
Dean see the hurt he was really feeling.
“Fuck you, Dean. At least I'm not some freak to him. He likes me the way I am.”
He grabbed his sandals from the floor and without putting them on pushed past
Dean and seconds later was out the door, getting into the car waiting for him.
***** Part 6 *****
Chapter Summary
     More about Karl and his thoughts on Sammy.
     Warnings for this part: Sam/OMC, pedophilia, dub/non-con, child
     prostitution
-
[image]
Karl has always liked his boys young.
The perfect age was when they started puberty and before they hit the point of
development where facial hair starts to grow and muscles really begin to build
up.
Boys needed to be soft and pretty. Smooth skin and big eyes. Carry an air of
innocence around, that made you want to tarnish them.
The youngest he ever had was eleven. What a sweet boy it had been. Plush lips
and blue eyes. Acted tougher then he was and broke down crying when Karl took
him.
Karl knew the little boy wouldn't tell on him. He lured him in with the promise
of money. Little guy needed it to get medication his sister required.
Children that were poor or the ones living on the street were so easy. There
was always the need for something, mostly money, sometimes other things. And
they willingly gave their bodies in return.
Early on Karl had learn that the easiest way to get young boys was to go to
where the poor lived or in big cities the dark streets and bad neighborhoods,
places around where all the prostitutes gathered. People - kids in Karl's case
- who didn't have a lot of money would do anything to get some.
He remembered a street rat who once let Karl fuck him for the promise of a
sandwich, that's how desperately hungry the kid had been.
When he moved to Montgomery he did some research, found out which of the cities
districts and the villages near by were the once with low income, where poverty
was widely spread. That's how he found Green Hill and Sammy.
He would just drive by the school, Green Hill High, scoot out the boys there,
see if he could find something appealing...and he did.
The third time he drove buy, long legs caught his eyes. At first he though it
was a girl. The shorts were cut off, way to short for a boy, the stance was
more girly, those long legs smooth with no hair, but the chest was flat, the
body lean and on the skinny side, no hint of curves.
They boy stood leaning against a cracked wall, a lollipop between his lips.
Karl watched those lips, how the boy would suck and lick, a natural cocksucker
or one with lots of experience, was Karl's first though. He was enthralled by
the boy.
He watched him get picked up by a broken down Chevrolet and followed it. They
drove to the city limits where they entered a Green Hill trailer park. It
looked dirty and run down, trash scattered around. Karl had smiled. If the boy
lived in that kind of place, he was perfect for Karl.
When he could, he would return to the school and watch the boy. He couldn't be
older then 14, maybe 15. A bit to old for his usual taste, but his looks made
up for it. The way he flirted with the older guys approaching him, how he just
let them grab him with no resisting, was to sexual for a boy that young and it
made Karl's cock harder.
He needed that boy.
He would have him.
Karl learned that the boy more often then not walked back home and used that
one day to talk to him. Drove up to the boy in his SUV, car looking expansive,
and opened up the window and requested a cigarette, told the boy he would drive
him home in return.
The boy looked him up and down and then smiled, climbed into the car.
Introduced himself as Sam, 15 years old.
Karl had smiled: “Sammy it is!”
They didn't drive to the trailer park. Karl stopped at a side road, they smoked
in the car. He put his hand on Sammy's thigh. The boy tensed, then relaxed.
“You're such a pretty boy, Sammy.”
The boys smile was off, looked like he tried to be more brave then he was. “You
can have a blowjob for fifty bucks,” Sammy had said.
Karl wouldn't say no to that kind of offer.
After, he asked Sammy if he would like to meet again. Promised the boy to buy
him all the things that he wanted or pay him with money. Sammy agreed.
The first time Karl fucked him, he knew Sammy wasn't a virgin or new to sex. He
was way to experience and his hole felt good used.
Maybe some daddy issues , Karl had smirked to himself.
What started as a sex arrangement somehow became more. They started to have
actual conversations and talk about their days. He stopped paying for sex with
money, now it was always something his Sammy wanted. Karl tried to meet him at
least twice a week or pick him up over the weekend.
Karl grew more fascinated by the sweet boy, who liked girly things. Encouraged
him, bought him panties and bras, tights and shoes, other close or jewelry
Sammy wanted.
He once called Sammy “my pretty girl” and the boy blushed. Sammy liked it! Karl
had fucked him bent over the couch in their motel room, called him baby girl
and told Sammy to call him daddy from now on.
As they grew more comfortable, Karl started to take Sammy to his apartment.
Watch his baby boy face light up seeing the penthouse he lived in.
When Sammy visited, Karl always had something new prepared for his boy to wear.
Lace panties, a teddy, a school girls outfit or a dress. Sammy was always
excited to see the new things, would wear them happily for his daddy.
Karl always took a picture of Sammy in his new outfit. Would tell him to stroke
his dick so his cute little cock would pick out of the panties.
Then they'd spent hours fucking.
And that Karl later on put those pictures online, Sammy had no need to know. A
page for men like him.
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Men with the love for young boys. Who would write Karl, congratulate him for
getting himself such a cutie.
He even got offers. One or more men offered their money in return to fuck
Sammy.
And who knows, one day Karl actually might be in the right mood to share.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Summary
     Dean is waiting for Sam to get home.
     Set after part 5.
It was Sunday evening and Dean was seating in a ratty camp-chair outside the
trailer, sipping a beer.
Sam hadn’t been home since Friday afternoon.
Since he had seen Dean with Kelly and called Karl to pick him up.
There were no massages from Sam and when Dean tried to call him his phone was
turned off.
Dean sighed,running a hand down his face.
It wasn’t the first time Sam was gone for a few days, but it was the first time
Sam didn’t call or write to say he was okay or when he would be back.
And Dean couldn’t even be really mad at him or blame him. He pulled a real
asshole move by fucking Kelly in their room and the way he acted afterwards
just pissed Sam off more.
Kelly had showed up at the door, wanting to celebrate the extra money she made
with some Meth she bought with it, and Dean couldn’t exactly say no and send
her away. What was he supposed to say? ‘Sorry, can’t fuck you in here, I’m
screwing my little brother on that mattress who’ll become a lil jealous bitch
if he finds out’.
By the time Sam got home and saw them, became a lil bitch like Dean had known
he would, Dean was to amped on Meth and just didn’t care. It wasn’t like he
could change the way things were anyway and then Sam had wanted to be with his
sugar daddy and all Dean could think of was ‘Fuck Sam’ and not in the fun way.
Now he was clear in the head and didn’t want to admit he was worried.
Maybe he pushed Sam to far this time, pissed him off to much with his insults
and Sam wasn’t coming back. Would finally leave this rat hole and Dean behind,
like Dean always though Sam would one day.
Take Karl up on the offer of moving in with him. He was sure the perve could
give Sam a nice home and all the things Dean would never be able to get Sammy.
The door to the trailer creaked open and John stepped outside, lighting himself
a cigarette, the usual smell of alcohol and sweat surrounding him.
“Make room for your old man,” he said, almost stumbling down the stairs, as he
made his move for the chair Dean was sitting in.
Dean got out of the chair. Ignoring John as his father almost fell over his own
feet, but could catch himself on the chair and sit down.
Bastard was drunk as always.
“Where’s the fag,” John asked after exhaling the smoke from his lungs.
Dean felt his jaw clench, hated it when John called Sam that. Though it wasn’t
even the worst thing John has ever called Sammy. Dean felt his own stomach
twist, knowing he wasn’t that different from their father in the things he said
to his brother.
“The fuck would I know,” was his reply to the question. Wanting to sound like
he didn’t care.
John chucked: “Not so much joined at the hip anymore the two of you, aren’t
ya?” Inhale and exhale, the tip of the cigarette glowing. “Guess as soon as he
found out what he could use his ass for you just weren’t good enough anymore.”
Shut up! Dean thought but didn’t say anything, just took a long swallow from
his beer, emptying it and letting the bottle fall to the ground.
A car was approaching and Dean recognized it. It was Karl’s SUV.
It stopped near the trailer and after a few moments the passenger side door
opened and Sam got out.
He was still in the cloths he left in, but additionally wore a to large hoody,
Karl’s Dean presumed. Sam’s hair was rumpled and he looked tired.
Sam gave them both a look, his mouth in a hard line, and went for the door, the
car pulling away behind him.
“Where have you been,” John asked to stop Sam, who had one leg on the steps of
the trailer.
Dean thought how he just wanted his father gone, so he could talk to Sam.
“You know, Sammy, if you’re whoring out your ass, at least bring some money
back home,” John went on. “How much did ya make fucking that old dude?”
Dean watched as the angles of Sam’s mouth twitched down and then Sam was
stepping up and going for the door.
John was suddenly out of the chair and up, grabbing Sam’s left hand and pulling
down hard. Sam stumbled backwards, lost his balance and landed down hard on the
ground near the stairs on his elbows and ass.
Before Sam could start to get up, John was above him, one booted foot pushing
down on Sam’s chest and pressing him to the ground, shouting above him, face
twisted in anger: “You little bitch! You fucking answer me when I ask you a
question!”
Sam’s hands came up to the ankle of Johns foot, trying to push it of him and
then Dean was there, grabbing his father by the shoulder and pulling him away
from Sam, screaming: “Leave him alone!”
John was fast turning around, fist swinging for Dean’s face, but Dean was
faster and ducked back and out of the way. John missed him and the momentum of
his punch made him stumble and fall to the ground.
Dean stepped away from their father and looked for Sam, but his brother was
already gone, the door to the trailer was open. He ignored their screaming
father calling them all kinds of names and went after Sam.
In their room, he locked the door and pushed a chair under the handle in case
John decided to follow.
Sam was sitting on the mattress, using a wet towel to wash the dirt from his
scrapped palms.
“Let me,” Dean said kneeling down in front of Sam.
“Leave me alone, Dean,” was Sam’s petulant reply and he turned away from his
big brother.
Dean didn’t allow Sam to push him away and just took the towel out of Sam’s
hand and grabbed one of his wrists to pull it towards himself and started to
carefully dab at the scratched open skin.
At first Sam went tense and Dean expected him to pull away, but then Sam
relaxed some and just let him take care of the wounds.
After Sam’s palms were clean Dean threw to towel to the side and looked up to
Sam’s face. His eyes looked stormy and unreadable and his mouth was a hard
line. Sam was just looking back at him, sitting on the mattress with his knees
slightly parted.
Sam moved a bit and the hoody slipped from his left shoulder, revealing the
side of his throat and his collar bone. The now visible bruises there caught
Dean’s attention.
Hickeys. Dark and large. Karl did a great job.
Sam knew where Dean was looking. “Does it bother you, Dean? Knowing what Karl
and I do? Seeing his marks on me? That’s not even all of them, you should see
my hips.” Sam’s words were almost a hiss and Dean’s head snapped up, fuck yes
it bothered him. Sam went on: “Now imagine how I felt seeing you with her.”
This time Sam sounded pained.
“I’m sorry,” Dean said. He knew he fucked up. He grabbed for Sam’s ankles and
pulled him towards himself, then grabbed him around the waist to pull him into
his lap and hug him close, burrowing his head in Sam’s neck. “I’m sorry, okay.”
Sam wasn’t struggling, but also not reacting in any other way, arms hanging at
his sides, just letting Dean hold him.
“Don’t leave…” A quite whisper into Sam’s neck. “You’re all I have.”
Sam hugged him back.
***** Part 8 *****
Chapter Summary
     It’s the 4th July and Sam and Dean are at a local celebration.
It was the evening of the 4th July and it just turned dark outside.
Some people from the trailer park met up at a field near by. Under the stars,
there was a big bone fire burning, cars around it parked at a save distance.
People stood beside their cars and pick-ups, drinking, smoking and laughing,
loud rock music playing from one of the cars. Soon it would be time for the
fire work.
Dean was leaning back against Kelly’s old pick-up, his girlfriend sitting on
the hood behind him, her slim arms wrapped around his shoulders as she nuzzled
the spot behind his ear, his palms on her knees, fingers caressing over the
nude skin there.
Across from Dean, on the other side of the bone fire, was Sam, and Dean’s eyes
were focused on his younger brother.
Sam was leaning against the hood of a sleek black truck, squeezed between two
tall guys who looked at him like sharks about to have a meal. José – Dean
worked at his garage – and his cousin Hector, also a mechanic.
José was half turned, back almost to the fire, one hand on Sam’s hip and would
lean down now and then to whisper something into the young boys ear or press a
kiss to a bony shoulder. The man of latin american origin was Sammy’s newest
fuck buddy – or sugar daddy, or pimp – Dean was never sure what to call the men
Sam was seeing, since they were all way to old and sleezy for a boy like Sam.
Hector was more subtle in his advances. Standing close on Sam’s other side,
from time to time a hand would come up to brush back a strand of hair, caress
the collarbone, brushing the back of his fingers down the boy’s torso. It was
clear Hector was just an guest whom José didn’t mind sharing with.
And it was also clear to Dean that Sam would be fucking them both tonight.
The day has been hot and Sammy was just in to short cut-off jeans and worn
chucks, no shirt. Made the access to his slim body so much easier. Dean had
found out for himself in the afternoon. Had to just push the cut-offs down – no
underwear – and bend Sam over the kitchen table, hand covering his mouth to not
wake their sleeping father, as he fucked his younger brother hard.
Soon José and Hector would find out how really easy the access, and Sam himself
for that matter, were. His brother didn’t seem to mind the attention from the
two men at all. Welcomed it. Would smile and laugh, beat his eyelashes. Take a
drink from the tequila bottle and twist his face like it was his first drink
ever. Playing the young innocent boy.
It worked. José bend down to lick up the tequila running down Sam’s chin after
he sputtered, pulling Sam into a kiss which his brother responded eagerly. Dean
watched Hectors hand move back to squeeze Sam’s firm bottom, then fingers of
the same hand pushed into the shorts and a grin appeared on the man’s face.
Seems like Hector just found out that the shorts were the only barrier.
Dean had had enough. He needed to get away.
“I need to pee.” He pushed away from the truck and Kelly and went into the corn
field behind them. Walking far enough so he was well hidden from the people
celebrating, he opened his jeans and took out his dick to pee, sighing, letting
his head fall back and looked up at the stars above.
There were hands on him from behind, palms dragging along his stomach to hug
him and a body pressed to his against his back.
“Fuck it, Kelly, can’t you let me pee in piece?” Dean was moody.
“Not Kelly.”
Sam.
“What are you doing here,” Dean asked. “Shouldn’t you be back there with your
sugar daddies keeping the porn show going.” He was mad, but Dean’s hands still
came up to cover Sam’s on his stomach.
“Don’t be such a jealous killjoy, Dean.” Sam pressed a kiss to the back of his
neck and continued to talk against the skin. “Came back here cause I wanted to
give my big brother a blowjob.”
The hands on Dean stomach took hold of his hips and turned him around. A quick
press of lips against Dean’s mouth and Sam was dropping to his knees. “Gotta be
fast, Dean, or my sugar daddies will miss me.”
Dean’s dick was still hanging out and Sam took hold of it, jerking it a few
times till it started to harden. He leaned in and took it in his mouth, not
minding the lingering drops of urine there, and started to suck.
Sam was amazing with his mouth. Humming, sucking, licking, deep throating,
gagging. Years of practice and the knowledge of what Dean loved soon had the
older brother on the brink of orgasm.
Dean had his eyes closed, hands buried in his brother’s hair, grabbing it to
control the movement of Sam’s head and start to thrust in and out.
Right before he came he heard a load bang and looked up.
Fireworks.
An Dean spilled into his brothers mouth.
***** Part 9 *****
Chapter Summary
     There is a reason for why Sam is the way that he is.
     Warning: rape of a minor
At the age of 12 Sam had already known he was different.
Where other boys were interested in sports, were loud and started to notice
girls, Sam has always been quite and reserved and his interest in girls was
completely different from the one of his peers.
Watching girls he was not interested in their smiles, faces, the developing
bodies or how pretty they were, but in their hair, the way they put make-up on
or how cute what they wore was. He would look down at his own shirt and jeans
and watch with envy a girl play with the straps of her top. Brush a hand
through his short hair and dream about having that long hair to be able to put
it into all the different hair styles the cheer leaders wore.
And when he heard a girl gush over a boy, he would understand what she mean,
because yes, boys were so much cuter. He would remember their words – so cute,
that smile, those eyes, did you see his body – and watch Dean remembering them.
They all applied to his brother.
But being the odd one had it’s disadvantages. He was the weird kid in school.
No friends to speak of. Always holes in his clothes or they were really worn
out, color fading. The insult of “white trash” called after him on occasion.
So he stayed by himself. Would either go to the library and look through books
or search for a quite corner to sit. He couldn’t wait to drop out of school
like Dean did. Get a job somewhere and help his brother out in supporting them.
Or just get away from here, together with Dean, leave this life behind them.
Where aside from some bullying his school mates barely noticed him, the elder
school janitor, Mr. Walls, did. He would watch Sam, sometimes come over and
talk, asking Sam how he was doing and where his friends were, how Sam would get
home after school. He would touch Sam’s shoulder or brush a hand through his
hair.
Sam never knew what to make of him, thought it was weird an older man showed
him so much attention, but he was nice, would give Sam food and some candy,
bring him books to take home for some reading.
One day Mr. Walls asked Sam to help him with something in the boiler room and
Sam went with him.
That afternoon Sam lost his virginity.
Saying no was useless and no one could hear him anyway. He had cried. It had
hurt. Mr. Walls still didn’t stop.
The elder man called him “my pretty boy”.
After, when Sam still was crying and sniffling, silent sobs shaking his body,
Mr. Walls gently brushed his tears away, helped him dress and told him it would
get easier and would stop hurting, pressed a kiss to his temple and reminded
him “no one will ever believe you”.
He had wanted to run home, but was in to much pain.
He planed to tell Dean and Dean would get mad and know what to do.
Laying on the mattress in their room, his lower body in pain, he had waited for
Dean to get home.
His brother got back home late, worked a double shift at José garage, could
barely stand with how exhausted he was.
Dean felt on the mattress and pulled Sammy close, pressed a kiss to his neck
and fell asleep.
Sam decided Dean had enough on his shoulders. Not like Dean could change what
had happened anyway.
A few days later Mr. Walls toughed Sam how to give a blowjob, a week later it
was sex once more.
Sam thought about telling somebody, but an investigation would put to much
attention on his family. On the abuse happening their, the neglect, at their
living conditions and the drugs often at home. He was sure he would be take
away, never see his brother again, and Dean was everything that he had.
So Sam stayed quite and let it happen.
One day, weeks later, Mr. Walls didn’t come to school. He was in a car accident
that he didn’t survive.
Sam turned 13 and hit puberty, became more confident with how different he was.
Managed to steal some girl clothe from a local market or girls locker.
Dean once saw him with make-up and had laughed at him, called him Samantha, but
still took him to Salvation Army when Sam had asked and he got himself a few
girl clothes.
He started to grow his hair out and began to wear cute tops and tight jeans,
put on shorts as the seasons turned hot summer days.
John called him fag and Dean a freak. His peers would laugh at him and the
bullying increased for a few weeks.
Elder men started to turn around to stare at him, looking like he was something
to eat.
Sex happened again. John's drunk buddies would find him in his room by himself,
John passed out, or walking home in the evening and some guy from the trailer
park would want a quick fuck.
Sam found out men didn’t take no for an answer. If you fight and try to run
away, they would grab you and hold you and hit you. So he stopped fighting and
it stopped hurting. Just lie there and take it. Open your mouth and swallow.
Spread your legs and shut up. It would happen anyway, whether he wanted it to
or not.
Dean once asked him about some bruises and Sam told him he fell.
He still watched the girls at his school. Watched them use their curves and
their bodies to gain attention, to flirt and make the boys do what they wanted.
Sam tried the same.
When he flirted instead of staying quite, men were nicer, would touch him with
so much more care, would by him gifts as a thank you.
They also never minded the way that he dressed. Seemed to even want him more
when he was dressed more like a girl. Desire in their eyes when they undressed
him to his panties. Call him a sweety, a princess, a pretty girl.
His relationship with Dean also changed. He always had loved Dean but now would
get hard around him, stomach flipping with pleasure when he watched his older
brother and Dean looked at him in the same way.
Now at night, they shared kisses and intimate touches. But it always was
secrete, no one could ever find out.
On the 4th of July, when Sam was 14, Dean had a surprise for him.
It was night and they took Dean’s newly bought car – which was a piece of junk
in Sam’s opinion – out for a drive. They stopped at a field and Dean had a box
full of fireworks for them to fire.
Sam had smiled, laughed and danced around in the sparks.
That night they had sex for the first time.
With Dean it was wonderful and Sam loved it. He had experienced his first
orgasm, his body tingling and seeing stars. What he felt with his brother,
couldn’t compare with all of the other men.
Dean had kissed him and said: “Bet you never thought you’d lose your virginity
to your big brother.”
Sam just cuddled closer and breathed a “yeah”.
Dean would never know how he really had lost it and how far he was from a
virgin.
***** Part 10 *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam is waiting for Dean to get home.
Sam was waiting for Dean to get back home with anticipation.
With Sam having been gone all weekend – spending it first with Karl, then with
José – they hadn't seen each other since Friday morning. Today was Tuesday.
He knew Dean would be pissed he skipped a day of school. But he would be
sixteen in a few months anyway and finally able to drop out, so who even cared
if the school said anything. Sam would just deny to himself that social
services could intervene. So far they never really did anyway.
To appease how mad Dean could be, Sam sent him a few nice pictures of himself.
[image]
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Hoping to turn Dean's possible rage into lust.
Sam even was already lubed up and put a plug in to keep himself open for his
bother.
By now it was after 8pm and Dean was late. He usually got home around six.
Sam just guessed he might have had to stay longer. Maybe wanted to get some
more work hours in.
Close to nine Sam was in the kitchen getting a drink when he heard the front
door bang open and then shut.
Sam felt a rise of excitement and turned around to lean against the kitchen
counter and put on a smirk for Dean when his brother entered the kitchen area.
John not being home, he was only wearing the panties tights from the pictures
he sent Dean.
When Dean appeared, his eyes searched for Sam's face, looking into his eyes
without saying a word.
Dean's face looked tired and blank, eyes glassy as if he had a drink to many or
took something more then alcohol.
Before Sam could express any worry, Dean was across the room, grabbing his face
in both hands and crushing ther mouths together for a hard kiss.
Dean's hands were all over him. Caressing, stroking, grabbing. The kiss grew
heated, there tongues tangled. Sam tried to pull away, something felt off, but
Dean didn't allow it. Followed his lips, kissed harder, his hands traveling
down to knit the firm globes of Sam's ass and the firmly grabbed them and
hoisted Sam up, making Sam wrap his legs around his waist.
Still holding Sam up, Dean carried him into their bedroom. Carefully he got on
his knees and then lay Sam onto the mattress, instantly covering his body with
his own.
Things progressed. Dean was kissing down his chest, stopped and played with the
hard nubs of his nipples, making Sam buck and groan, while at the same time
Dean's hands were pulling at Sammy's panties.
“Fuck, Dean,” Sam moaned as his brother tugged hard on a nipple.
Usually when they fucked there was dirty talk, this time Dean was quite. Hot
breath against Sam's skin, but no words. It all felt different then it usually
was. More gentle. More lingering touching. Dean trying to stay as close to Sam
as possible.
When Sam was nude and Dean was pulling out the plug, Sam started to turn
around, wanted to get into their usual position, doggy-style. But his brother
didn't let him. Just left enough room between them to get his shirt off and
open his jeans enough to get his dick out, and then Dean was on him again.
Licking and sucking, head burrowed into Sam's neck Dean slowly pushed inside,
making the younger boy gasp.
Dean stayed like that the whole time. Face hidden in Sam's neck, both arms
wrapped tightly around him, Sam's hands and legs around Dean, keeping them as
close as possible. Dean more grinding then thrusting with his hips.
Like that Sam came. Dean's dick a constant pressure against his prostate, Sam's
cock squeezed between their bellies.
Blissed out and heavy breathing, Sam had his eyes closed and his fingers were
brushing through his brothers sweaty hair. “Damn Dean, that was good. What's
gotten into you?”
Dean just wordlessly pushed them onto their sides, his cock slipping out of Sam
in the process. He spooned behind Sam, arms wrapping around him, lips smoothing
over the nape of Sam's neck. “Sleep now,” he commanded.
Warm and cozy in his brothers arms, Sam yawned and felt asleep. Whatever gotten
into Dean, it would have to wait.
-
Sam woke after three in the morning. He pushed his body back, then his arms,
searching for Dean's warm body but it was gone.
The slit under the bedroom door showed their was light in the kitchen.
Putting on the shirt Dean had been wearing – it was long enough to reach to his
mid-tight – Sam went to look for his brother.
He found Dean sitting in the small dinner area. A half-empty bottle of Whiskey
beside him and a glass in his hand filled with the ember liquid. Sam watched
Dean lean back and drink the contents of the glass, then pour himself another
one.
“Dean?”
His brother didn't react. Sam stepped closer and put a hand on his big brothers
shoulder. He knew the bottle had been full this afternoon and Dean liked a
drink here and there, but he wasn't a drunk. If he wanted to get high, his
brother preferred other drugs to alcohol.
He shook Dean's shoulder. “What's wrong?” Sam always worried when Dean wasn't
acting like his usual self. First their fuck, which wasn't at all hard and
dirty like it usually was, now the drinking.
After swallowing down another glass Dean finally spoke. “I fucked up, Sammy.”
“What happened?”
The hand that had been holding the glass came up to cover Sam's hand on his
shoulder and Dean finally looked at Sam, eyes tired and red he spoke.
“Kelly is pregnant.”
***** Part 11 *****
Chapter Summary
     Dean is dealing with the aftermath of telling Sam about Kelly’s
     pregnancy.
Sam was gone.
After their talk in the early morning hours Sam dragged him back to bed, Dean’s
head spinning with the alcohol he had drank, and when he woke up, he was alone.
He though Sam went to school or something else, but the day went by and there
had be no word from him. The next day went the same. Dean tried to write and
call, but Sam either ignored him or his phone was turned off.
After four days Dean told himself to get used to Sam not coming back.
Their talk had been about Kelly and her pregnancy. When she told him she gave
him a choice. Either he pay for an abortion or he better get used to the though
of becoming a husband and father and to support their soon to be family.
Since luck was never on his side, she found out while she already was far
along, the 11th week, which meant the costs for an abortion without insurance
were around $1400. Money Dean didn’t have and had no way of getting.
Sam had listened to all of this, his face somber, nodded, held Dean’s hand.
At first Dean was glad for his brother being there but now it seemed like after
a nights sleep, Sam had come to his senses. Dean fucked up what he and Sam had
by becoming a soon-to-be-dad and probably husband, and this new turn just
wouldn’t have any room for Sam anymore. So Sammy had been smart and ran.
And what Dean always knew would happen one day, happened.
Sam left him.
It had been nine days now and like every day after work since then, Dean sat
outside with a bottle of strong alcohol and drank.
Drank till he was close to passing out, because only then he could stomach
going back inside and into the room he used to share with Sam. Surrounded by
his brothers stuff and smell…. but no Sammy anymore.
Apart from a sense of loss there was worry.
He didn’t know anything about where his brother had gone. How he was. Was Sam
hungry and cold? Or maybe he went to Karl and was well of, in a warm bed,
getting whatever he wanted from his sugar daddy. Laughing and happy. No
thoughts of their crappy life. No thoughts of Dean.
Dean took another long swallow from his Whiskey bottle.
Kelly had been at his work today. Told him she needed money for pregnancy
vitamins. Seems like she was getting used to the thought of becoming a mother….
Keeping the baby.
After five days of Sam gone, Josè came over to him. Asked where his slut of a
brother had disappeared to, because his cock was missing that tight little ass.
He had clenched his fist around the screw-driver he was holding. If he didn’t
need this job so badly, he would have punched Josè stupid smirk of his face.
Since violence wasn’t an option thought, he just said it as it was. “Sam is
gone”.
It was night but the heat around here was almost stifling, his neck and back
dump with sweet. But it was still better then being inside and how empty the
trailer felt now.
Everything about his life was somehow connected to Sam.
He stayed in the crappy trailer living with John, to be with Sam.
Went to work and before that stole and turned tricks, to be able to care for
Sam.
Never complained about having to share a room with his baby brother, because it
meant he could be with Sam.
Getting beat up as a kid by their dad and the scars left from then, to protect
Sam.
Staying hungry himself and act like he ate, to keep Sam sated.
Even Kelly was about Sam.
When he first found out that his innocent brother wasn’t innocent at all, that
all the rumors about him being the neighborhood whore were true and Dean sure
as hell wasn’t the only guy in Sam’s life, he had brought Kelly home. Saw the
anger in Sam, the animosity between her and his little brother, and decided she
would be the perfect girlfriend - out of anger and revenge at his brother.
Sam was everything and now Sam was gone.
He got up from the chair on shaky legs. Took a last swallow and emptied the
bottle letting it drop to the ground. Let a hand drag down his face before he
made his way inside.
In the doorway to their – well, now his – room he stopped, his body swaying.
Looked at all the things left there by Sam.
Aside from Sam’s backpack, almost everything was still here. It seemed wherever
he went, he didn’t need anything from this life.
Like he didn’t need Dean.
That’s when he heard the door behind him open and close and the shuffle of
feet.
Dean turned around. The light in the kitchen illuminated the hallway and he
could see a figure.
Walking slowly with a limp, head down, backpack hanging by it’s straps from his
right hand, being dragged along the floor, was his brother. He stopped in the
entrance to the kitchen.
Sam was back.
Dean felt his whole body freeze and the air leave his lungs by the sight of his
brother. He felt a burn in his eyes.
Sam stood still, finally looking up.
He was dressed in old jeans, torn at his knees, his old Chuck’s and a grey
sweatshirt with long sleeves that reached over his wrists to his palms. His
longish hair was in a mess and looked unkempt. But what stuck out most was his
face. Pale and covered in bruises. His left eye black and slightly swollen, a
dark bruise on his right cheek and his lower lip split, the wound crusted over.
“Hi Dean,” he said quietly, looking at Dean with sad wounded eyes.
The emotions inside Dean were a mix of relief, longing, sadness, pain and
disbelieve, turning and twisting, not knowing where to stop and what to feel.
Sammy was here, he was really here.
He thought about storming over and grabbing Sam in his arms. Hold him close and
never let him leave again. Promise him no matter what, he would find a
solution, as long as Sammy would stay with him.
After a few moments the turmoil in him finally stopped and turned into an
emotion he could act on.
The emotion he knew best and knew how to deal with.
Anger.
In a few quick steps Dean was across the kitchen, hand swinging out and
backhanding Sam hard across the face with a sharp crack in the air.
“Where the fuck have you been,” he was screaming, grabbing Sam by the collar of
his shirt and shaking him.
Inside he was also screaming. Screaming at himself. This was not how it was
supposed to go.
***** Part 12 *****
Chapter Summary
     First part of what happened to Sam in the nine days he was gone,
     after Dean told him about Kelly’s pregnancy.
While Dean was still deep in sleep, Sam had packed his backpack.
He took the money he had saved and a few clothes and left quietly.
He wouldn’t loose Dean to that bitch Kelly. He was determined to get the money
the abortion would cost.
Fastest way to get that amount of money was whore himself out.
Sam used his money to buy a ticket for the first bus to Montgomery. He had been
there before when he needed fast money, knew where the streets and corners for
prostitutes were.
The drive took a few hours and after arriving he spent his time walking around,
waiting till night time.
By the time evening came, he had several missed calls and messages from Dean.
He thought about answering, calling back, but knew Dean would just demand to
know where he was and what he was up to and if Sam told him, Dean would never
be okay with what he did. So he ignored his big brother.
When it grew dark, Sam was at one of the street corners prostitutes and their
john’s frequented.
He hoped there were enough guys around who’d want a young boy. Hoped to get at
least 50 bucks a fuck and to bang as many guys as possible to get the money
together in a week.
But things didn’t go as he’d planed.
The first evening some other male prostitutes chased him away, apparently Sam
was to close to their usual spot and they didn’t like the competition. He had
found another place for himself at the end of the street, less john’s coming
here. Sam wearing his jeans shorts and a tank top a man finally was interested.
The guy had just wanted a blowjob and when Sam wanted $30 for it, he threw a
twenty onto the dirty ground with a sneer and then left.
His night went by with no other customers and by the time the sun started to
rise, he left his spot and walked away.
The day was spent in a park near by. He hid in the bushes to catch some sleep
and fished out a half eaten sandwich out of the trash, went to use the restroom
of a gas station to freshen up. The money he had saved up was used for the bus
ticket and he needed to save all the money he made on the street. Even if it
were just twenty lousy bucks.
Come night, Sam tried a different neighborhood and it wasn’t going much better.
There were at least four other boys around Sam’s age and two who even looked
younger. All of them seemed to have their regulars come around and no one
really showed interest in Sam.
He let a drunk man fuck him behind a dumpster after spending 3 hours outside
and got his $50.
Fuck, he was getting frustrated. At this rate he might have the money in one
year. And he was kind of on a really tight time schedule here, seeing as there
was only a certain amount of weeks in which a woman could get an abortion.
Around 1am there were another two john’s. Two frat boys who took the “tranny”,
as they called him, to a secluded parking lot. One fucked him while he sucked
off the other, outside beside their car. Through out, they kept on insulting
him and asking all kinds of demeaning questions: “Would you drink our piss if
we paid you?” “Do you whore ya self out ta get money for a pussy-op?” “Ya
probably lost count of all the dicks that have been in that ass! Or should we
call it a cunt?” “How much does it cost to see you fucked by a doggy?” “…or
better, a horse!”
When finished, the older one made some joke about an one-dollar-whore. Sam got
angry, when the first demand for owned money was met just with smirks, then one
of the guys got a hold of him from behind while the other one punched him hard
in the belly. Sam slumped to the ground, coughing, hearing laughter, a honk and
the screeching of wheels.
Angry tears in his eyes he saw a $1 bill on the ground.
He stayed kneeling on the ground, punching it with a fist. What the fuck was
going on. How could he have that much bad luck. The angry tears came, rolling
down his cheeks.
He was gonna get the money somehow. He was not gonna loose Dean.
Sam got up from the ground, whipping away the wetness from his eyes and started
walking back to the street-walker’s patch.
He heard a car coming up behind him and when near him, he heard it slow down.
Sam stopped and looked up to see who it was.
The red Jeep came to a stop and the passenger seat window rolled down. Inside
was a guy in his 50’s Sam guessed, not bad looking, short hair and beard, both
were salt and pepper.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” the guy spoke up with a smile.
Sam smiled back. Older guys and flirting was something he knew. “Hi”
“What’s a….,” the man’s eyes traveled him up and down, saw the sandals, glitter
nail polish, the girly cut of his top “…. pretty girl like you doing all alone
here at night?”
Sam walked to the open car window. Confident, flirty smile on his lips. “Trying
to work, earn some money.”
The man’s smile changed into a grin. “I’ve got work for you, if you’re
interested.”
“What kind of work?”
“I’ve got some special…..mmh….kinks. Like to keep them around a bit longer. Two
grand for a week, no questions asked by you, if you’re interested?”
Sam’s eyes grew wide. Two grands for a week?! Fuck, that was a lot! He wondered
what kind of sick shit that guy was into, to pay that kind of money!
“I…,” he was hesitant. `No questions asked` didn’t exactly sound reassuring.
The grin disappeared from the guy’s face. “I get it, you’re not interested.”
The window started to move back up.
Damn it, Sam thought. “I’ll do it,” he called out. He really couldn’t let this
chance pass, seeing as bad as the week was going so far.
Sam didn’t see the shark like grin as the guy leaned across the sit to open the
car door.
Sam got in, and got praised with a “Good girl”.
Inside the car, Sam put the backpack he was carrying with him between his legs
as the car started to move.
“You can call me Dan,” the guy said.
“Sam.”
“Sammy it is,” Dan replied.
Sam wanted to tell him not to call him that, but the guy would be paying a lot
of money and he didn’t want to anger him. He wondered what he got himself into,
what the guy would want from him. He wanted to ask. Not knowing making him
nervous.
They drove to the city limits and into the suburbs. Sam watched the
neighborhood, huge houses with big drive ways passing by. The guy - Dan - must
be loaded of he could afford to live here!
They finally slowed down at a gate, which opened automatically after Dan
pressed some kind of remote control. They drove up the drive way and stopped at
the front door of the two story colonial style house.
“Come,” the guy ordered as he got out.
Sam got outside, taking his backpack, looking around him, eyes big. Dan was
opening the front door, winking Sam inside with a move of his head.
Sam felt the nervous butterflies in his stomach as he got inside, the heavy
door closing behind him. He took in the huge entrance hall, the wooden stairs
leading upstairs.
There was a pressure on his back, Dan was pulling the backpack off. “You won’t
need this”, he said.
Sam wanted to protest, but didn’t dare. He would just stay quite and be a good
girl. Seemed like that was what Dan wanted anyway.
The backpack was off and he felt Dan’s hand caress down his back, stopping
before it could touch the swell of his ass.
“Follow me.” Sam was ordered and felt his heart beat pick up as he went after
the older man.
They went through the hall and a dining room into the kitchen where Dan stopped
at a door. He took keys out, opening it and turning on the light to the stairs
leading into the basement.
Sam felt the sweat on his palms. What did that guy want from him? Why would he
pick up a street-whore anyway, if he got that kind of money?
He was torn from his thoughts as a large hand grabbed his wrist and he was
pulled along. Down the stairs and deeper into the cellar.
Another door was opened and Sam was pushed inside.
“What….” he started to ask when his brain caught up and he registered the gray
walls, an iron bed with a strained mattress and a toilet.
There was the heavy click of metal locking and Sam turned around, found himself
face to face with a closed iron door.
“Hey,” he called out. “What the fuck! Open the door!”
There was no reply. He started to bang against the door, panic setting in.
“Open the door! Let me out!”
He tried to rattle the door, but there was no doorknob. So he tried to push
against the heavy door with his body, then banging against it harder and
loader, starting to scream: “Let me out! Open the fucking door, you asshole!”
But there was still no reply.
Sam’s whole body jumped as in the next moment, the lights went out. Complete
darkness.
A few seconds later, a red security light went on, bathing the room into it’s
eerie light.
He could hear his own heart beat, it was so load, his breathing growing fast
and shallow, heartbeat racing, Sam pressed his back into the heavy door, slowly
sinking down till he set on the hard floor.
What did he get himself into?
***** Chapter 13 *****
Chapter Summary
     Warnings in this chapter: Sam/OMC, violence, rape
     The first day of what happened to Sam after he went back home with
     Dan.
Sam was jerked awake by a metallic screech.
He had fallen asleep sitting hunched beside the door, after being locked in.
Quickly he got to his feet, stepped away to have a safe distance between
himself and the door.
It opened to Dan. Standing there in jeans and boots, upper body bare. His face
cast in eery shadows by the red light still illuminating the room.
Dan’s face was hard. Gone all the smiles from when he had picked up Sam the
night before.
Sam’s fear was covered by anger. “Let me out of here,” Sam demanded. “What kind
of sick f-”
He didn’t get farther.
A firm hand grabbed Sam around his jaw and with the momentum of a turn, Sam was
lifted of the floor and the back of his head was smashed into the wall.
Sam’s vision went black for a few seconds His scream of pain muffled by the
hand bruising his jaw.
Dan’s hand let go and he crumbled to the floor, head spinning.
He didn’t stay there for long. A hand grabbed the hair on top of his head and
he was dragged by it across the floor towards the bed.
He was screaming for Dan to let go, tried to grab the wrist to get himself
free, to somehow twist his body out of the firm grip.
Beside the bed he was let got, kneeling on the floor, breathing heavily.
Before he even could think of getting up and running, the booted-foot kicked
him into his stomach.
Sam curled into himself, arms going around his middle, forehead pressed to the
ground, gasping for breath.
The sole of the boot was on his shoulder next, nudging him hard enough to
topple him over onto his side.
“Strip, pretty girl,” Dan commanded, voice hard.
“Fuck you,” was Sam’s deviant reply.
It was the wrong on.
There was a flash in Dan’s eyes and the kicks started again. To Sam’s stomach -
his back and his ass when Sam tried to turn away and then one hard one to his
head, which made him black out from pain for a moment.
Sam came to himself head spinning, he was coughing and there was blood mixed
with spit.
“You’d better had stripped, sweetheart.” Dan’s said followed by an metallic
click that made Sam look up from the side of his eyes.
Dan was holding a knife, blade gleaming sharply.
Sam’s breath coughed in fear. “No,” he wanted to scream but it left his throat
as a weak croak.
He started to try and crawl away, barely able to move with his body in pain,
his breathing sounding rasping in his ears, the metallic taste of blood in his
mouth.
He was grabbed by his hair once more and thrown on the hard bed. He screamed
out as the move brought new pain.
Dan’s big hand was pressing Sam’s face into the mattress, breathing was
difficult and Sam felt the knife’s cold blade on the small of his back, it
slipped under his tight top.
Sam squeezed his eyes shut. “Please,” he breathed. Bagging. This couldn’t be
it.
The knifes tip pressed into the skin on his back, drawing blood.
“Next time you do as you’re told, baby girl.” With a quick move Dan jerked his
hand up, slicing through the fabric and tearing the top at the back.
Sam screamed with the movement, his brain needing a few second to catch up that
it was only his top that the knife just had sliced.
Then there was a body hovering close over his, a hot breath at Sam’s neck, a
lick across his sweaty nape. “Let’s try this again. Strip,” Dan commanded once
more.
This time Sam listened. Didn’t want no more pain. His movements slow from agony
and his head still spinning, he removed the now torn top. Next he unbuttoned
his jeans short’s and pushed them dawn, kicked them of of his ankles.
Sam lay back down and waited.
“Such a naughty girl,” there was a grin in Dan’s voice as he grabbed one butt
cheek and squeezed it. “I just knew a little slut like you would go with no
undies.”
The hand stayed on Sam’s ass. Caressing it, squeezing, giving it a few hard
slaps that made Sam’s whole body jerk.
A zipper was opened and Sam was moving again. Ribs hurting he managed to turn
around and sit up. “No, don’t please don’t,” he was beginning.
The fist to his face made Sam fall back onto the bed.
Why did he beg? He should know it’s no use. Never has, never will be.
He stayed still on the bed, face turn away from the older man.
“Suck it and make it good’n’wet. It’s all the prep you are getting.”
Sam felt the burn in his eyes. Felt the wetness.
Told himself to just get it over with. Not like this never happened before.
But in the past the men at least wanted him to pretend like he was into it. A
good slut enjoying him(her)self. Dan was different.
Sam slide down to his knees. Did as told.
Took the heavy cock into his mouth.
Listened to the man’s heavy breaths above him, to his little moans.
Told himself to make it real good. Maybe if he satisfied Dan he’d stop hurting
him. Probably should just have listened and played along from the beginning. It
was his own fault he was in this situation anyway.
When he was told to kneel on the bed backwards, legs spread and head down, he
got up and followed the commend.
No prep as Dan had told him. Sam knew it would hurt and burn. Probably tear,
Dan was big.
Sam just breathed in, closed his eyes. You went through this before, he
reminded himself.
Sam screamed with the quick penetration and cried through the whole act.
There was no pause for him to adjust. Dan’s thrusts never faltered, stayed fast
and hard.
Groaning behind him. Large hands on his hips. A voice telling him what a sweet
girl he was. What a tight pussy he had.
At some point the pain made Sam black out and he was thankful for that.
*
Sam came back to himself curled up in bed, body trembling with cold.
He jerked up and looked frantically around himself for Dan but he was gone. The
sudden move finally caught up with his body and Sam whined in pain, curled onto
his side.
There was no blanket here and when he looked for his clothe he saw they were
gone.
Sam felt a wetness sliding down between his thighs. He swiped at it. A quick
look. The come was colored pink by his blood.
His eyes heavy, Sam succumbed to darkness once more.
*
He was jerked awake by a hard slap to his face.
Sam tried begging once more. Got a fist to his jaw for his trouble.
Dan took him again. Hard and fast.
This time it hurt even more.
Sobs mixing in with his cries and tears.
After, he was left alone once again. Body week, his inside burning in agony. He
was glad he passed out once again.
*
The third time he was woken, he was dragged from the bed and fell onto the hard
floor. No sex this time, just Dan giving him a good beating. Kicks to his back,
stomach and chest.
When Dan stopped, he spat onto Sam’s face.
Before the man left the room something felt to the ground, then the door closed
and Dan was gone.
Sam vomited. Could see blood in his bile. The was coughing and crying. His
whole body just hurt so bad.
He didn’t know how long he stayed on the floor till he was finally able to
crawl back onto the bed and look towards the door. There was a bottle of water
beside it.
The only nutrition he got the whole day.
Sam ignored it and welcomed the darkness.
~
Next part: The rest of the days Sam spend with Dan.
***** Chapter 14 *****
Chapter Summary
     This part: Sam/OMCs, rape, violance
     The rest of Sam's days with Dan. The end of this chapter ties back in
     to the ending of chapter 11.
Sam had a restless night.
His body in to much pain to find a comfortable position, his mind reeling. He'd
fall asleep, only to jerk awake in a panic or in whimpers of pain.
At least the ache of his whole body distracted him from the agony his hole and
insides were in.
Way to soon he heard the screech of the iron door open again.
Was it morning yet? Sam didn't know. With no windows and only the red light, he
lost the ability to tell the time.
His back to the door, Sam froze in his curled up position, body tense as he
listened to Dan come closer.
The men grabbed him by the hair and forced his face around. A big hand held his
jaw, fingernails digging into his bruised cheek.
“Morning, pretty girl. I've got something for you,” Dan said and some fabric
landed beside Sam's head. “Get dressed.”
Sam's jaw clenched in a reply but he learned his lesson yesterday. If he wanted
to get out alive, he better do what he's told.
Two white hairbands and pink lace panties lay there.
The panties made the breath catch in his throat. They were a pair from his
backpack.
Dean had given them to him. Stole them from a Walmart. Acted like it was all a
joke and made fun of Sam but when Sam put them on, his brothers eyes had grew
dark and he fucked Sam with the panties pushed to the site.
He didn't want to put them on for Dan.
Dan must have seen the hesitation, because Sam was grabbed by his hand and
backhanded hard, his head snapping to the side, felt some hair pulled out. His
face turned back by a hard clutch the older man was sneering in his face: “You
want a repeat of yesterday? Because if you won't put them one I can do it for
you.”
A second slap to his face and this time Dan let go of his hair and Sam fell to
the bed. He could taste blood in his mouth and his eyes burned with tears.
Sam pushed himself up and slowly got up from the bed. He put on the panties and
pulled his longish hair into two messy pony tails.
Dan inspected him, hands traveling over Sam's body. He seemed satisfied and
demanded a blow job.
The day was spend with fucking – panties on and pushed to the side – and messy
blowjobs. When Dan need a brake for his dick to get up again, he used toys on
Sam.
Every knew penetration hurt more then the last. His inside being torn anew.
At some point even Dan seemed to realize that if he wanted the fucking to go
on, he needed to take more care and got out some lube.
It did nothing to stop the pain of being fucked.
If Dan only so much as sensed a bit of hesitation from Sam towards any demand,
there would be a slap, a punch or a kick.
The day ended with Sam over Dan's knees, a buttplug inside him, getting his as
spanked with what felt like punches not slaps.
Every knew slap felt like somebody hammering a nail into him, with the way the
buttplug hurt him every time that it moved.
Sam was left crying and sobbing, begging for Dan to stop. Please, please, stop.
Dan didn't stop till he decided that he was done. Pushed Sam to the floor, the
boy's face messy with tears and demanded one last blowjob.
After Dan left, Sam curled up crying in bed. Relieved the day was over.
But a few moments later the door opened once more. No, no, no, I can't anymore!
Sam screamed inside.
There was a hand cradling the side of his head and something fell on the bed.
“You need your strength, princess.” And Dan left.
On the bed were a bottle of water and half of a wrapped sandwich.
Sam didn't eat, couldn't stomach it and only took a few swallows of water.
Didn't realized haw dry his mouth was till he saw it.
-
On day three Dan invited a friend. Aaron.
A tall man with blond colored hair and stubble. Perfect white smile.
Sam learned that he was wrong. He could feel more pain.
Aaron seemed to be into whipping and Dan was happy to step back and just watch.
They bound Sam stomach down by his arms and his legs to the bed.
First, Aaron used his belt. Starting slow and working up to fast and hard.
Hitting Sam across his back, ass and tights.
When he worked Sam up to crying, sobbing and bagging, they took turns fucking
him.
Pressing their big bodies dawn onto Sam, covering him whole, intensifying the
pain through there big bodies pressed to his bruised skin.
After the belt Aaron decided to use a wire.
That one got Sam to screams till his throat was raw and his back wet with what
he knew wasn't sweet. His whole back felt like it was on fire when Aaron was
done.
For the next round of fucking, they turned him onto his back and Sam blacked
out from the pain.
-
Aaron stayed and Sam's days became a blur of pain and agony.
No amount of begging would help. In the contrary, it seemed to turn them one
and make them hurt him even more.
Apparently, Aaron smoked. He decided to decorate Sam's shoulders and upper
tights with burn marks. Would push the glowing cigarettes hard into Sam's skin,
his eyes shining bright with every whimper and scream he got out of the young
boy.
Dan had the idea to let Sam know what he was and got out his knife from the
first day. After he was done the word “whore” was carved onto his upper stomach
and Sam couldn't stop crying.
He hated their litany of “good girl”, “pretty girl”, “sweetheart” and
“princess”, while they fucked him or demanded a blow job. Mixed with the
occasional “slut” and “whore”.
Sam never wanted to hear the word “girl” ever again.
Their creativity of something to hurt him with seemingly endless.
He was done. Tired and in more pain then he thought anyone could bear.
Dying sounded more like a salvation then something to avoid by every knew day.
-
Sam didn't know how much time had passed of what day it was.
He slowly woke up. Expected them to be there, but heard nothing.
Sam turned around and his eyes widened in confusion. Was it a trick?
The door to his room stood open. The basement and the stairs to the kitchen
door bathed in a dim light.
Sam listened hard for any sound, eyes swapped his surroundings.
Beside the door he found his battered backpack,  his clothes from the first day
folded beside it and near them his shoes.
Sam stayed in bed. Still afraid it was some kind of trick or game. Waited to
see if Dan or Aaron would suddenly appear to play the next round of one of
their cruel games.
When nothing happened after a while, Sam slowly got up. His legs almost gave
out and he coughed himself on the bed. His head was spinning.
Slowly and carefully, he made his way to his things supporting himself on the
wall.
Beside his stuff, he slowly sank to his knees. His eyes filled with tears and
he whipped them away.
He opened the backpack and dug out a change of clothes. Jeans, a sweater and
his old chucks. Couldn't bear to wear the revealing clothes he had on when he
got here – a tight top and short jeans-shorts.
Getting dressed was a challenge. The fabric turning to burning pain when in
touched the bruises covering him.
Sam avoided any look at what his body looked like. Only saw his own hands.
Lower arms with a few angry burns crusted over, the skin on his wrists blue and
green, rubbed raw, from the ropes used to hold him dawn.
He grabbed the backpack by it's straps, knowing he couldn't put it onto his
back – it being still raw from the several whippings – and made his way out of
the room and up the stars.
Fear gripped him a few times. What waited upstairs? What if it's a new game?
And Sam almost went back into the room a few times.
At the top of the stairs he took and deep calming breath and pushed down the
handle to slowly open the door.
He's eyes squeezed shut from the daylight flooding the kitchen. He spent to
many days in the basement with only the red light there.
“Hallo, sweety,” Dan greeted. “You finally made it out the bed, I see.”
Sam froze and pressed himself to the doorframe. Panic gripping his heart.
Breath quickening.
He knew it. It was all just a trick.
His eyes finally used to the light, he looked towards the direction of the
voice.
Dan was sited at the wooden kitchen table, hot streaming cup between his hands,
dressed in a shirt and sweatpants, smiling softly at Sam.
Looking nothing like the cruel man who had tormented him.
Dan nodded towards something on the table. “Two grands, like we agreed.”
Sam now saw the thick white envelope sitting on the far side of the table.
Beside it was a small orange bottle with a white cap.
“And some painkillers. I'm sure you feel...umm... a little bit under the
weather.”
Not meeting Dan's eyes, Sam walked to the money. He put his backpack on the
table and put money and painkillers inside it.
The scratch of wood against wood made his body jerked and he looked up towards
Dan in fear as the man stood up.
“Shh, no need to be afraid,” Dan was smiling a soft smile – like nothing ever
happened and they were friend - as he walked towards Sam. “You were amazing.”
He pressed a kiss to the forehead of the boy frozen in fear then stepped back.
“I'll call you a cab.” And Dan left.
-
Sam had taken the cab to the next bus station. Dan had said it would bring him
wherever he needed to go, but Sam wanted away from anything Dan related as soon
as possible.
Now Sam sat inside a bus that would take him back home.
Sitting hurt bad and he took two of the painkillers.
His backpack clutched to his front, Sam leaned his head against the window.
He never thought he get out of that basement. As soon as the door closed the
first day, he was convinced he fell for the trick of some kind psycho.
Well, Dan was a psycho. But at least Sam was finally free.
And he got the money Dean needed.
Dean.
God, he missed his brother so bad.
His heart beating fast with longing, Sam dug into his backpack and pulled out
the old photo he'd taken with him.  
Dean hated his picture taken. But one night he was drunk, with some bitch
hanging on his arm and Sam used the moment. Instead of getting the cam slapped
from his hand, he just got the middle finger.
[image]
Sam smiled looking at it. He couldn't wait to get home.
-
Sam was walking towards the trailer. Every step felt like his shoes were loaded
with lead. The pain was back and he felt exhausted.
He'd never would have thought he'd ever be happy over seeing the shithole of a
trailer he lived in.
But inside it was Dean.
At least he hoped so.
What if he's with Kelly?A voice whispered inside him.
Sam ignored it.
God, Dean will be so angry. He knew his big brother worried to much.
Right now he just wanted Dean. Wanted so see him after thinking he never get's
that chance again. Wanted to fall into his arms and just be held. Just let go.
Fall asleep in his arms.
And fuck, his sounded so sappy.
But the last week has been hell.
Dean was all that he had and he needed him right now.
Inside the trailer he walked towards the light in the kitchen. Dragging his
backpack across the floor by it's straps. Preying it was Dean, not their dad.
At the entrance to the kitchen Sam stopped. His breath catching and his heart
skipping a beat at the sight of Dean.
He wanted to smile for his big brother but felt his throat clutch. “Hi Dean.”
Sam watched his brothers beautiful face and the emotions playing on it.
Dean. Dean Dean Dean. Please Dean just come here, Just hold me.
Sam was hopping his face convened any of it. Things he never could say out
load.
Saw Deans eyes on his face, knew how battered he must look from his reflection
on the bus' window.
Finally the turmoil on Deans face ended and Sam saw a flash of anger.
No!
In a few quick steps Dean was in front him and with a load crack, Sam's head
snapped to the side.
“Where the fuck have you been,” Dean was screaming, grabbing Sam by the collar
of his shirt and shaking him.
Sam wanted to cry.
***** Chapter 15 *****
Chapter Summary
     The fallout between Sam and Dean, when Sam gets back home.
Chapter Notes
     This part: Angst, boys hurting each other, Dean is an asshole
     Note: Wow, it’s been like four months. But I finally got enough muse
     together to write the next chapter!
     Big thanks goes to kinkyboyking.tumblr.com for beta-reading <3
>[image]
~
In a few quick steps Dean was in front of Sam and with a loud crack, Sam's head
snapped to the side.
“Where the fuck have you been,” he was screaming, grabbing Sam by the collar of
his shirt and shaking him.
With a sound of rage Dean let go, pushing Sam away from himself, making the
younger boys  back bang hard into the door jam.
Sam bit his lip in pain, suppressing a wince.
“Talk Sam! Where the fuck have you been!”
It was so easy to be mad at Sam and Dean was seething.
Sam has been gone for nine days. No word of where he went, how he was doing or
when and if at all he was coming back.
The younger boy's eyes followed his brother. Watched Dean drag hands through
his hair, angry noises and curses leaving his lips while he paced through the
kitchen.
He finally spoke. “Montgomery,” Sam replied, quietly.
God, he was tired. Didn't feel like fighting with Dean. Normally would not take
Dean's angry bullshit but he was exhausted and just wanted to lay down and
rest.
Felt the painkillers losing their effects and the agony in his body return.
He had wanted to get home so bad after what happened – wanted to get back to
Dean. But didn't anticipate his brother's anger.
“Did one of your sugar daddy’s take you there for a good fuck?”
Dean's eyes skimmed over Sam's face, eyes stopping to look at the bruises there
– a new one forming from Dean's fist hitting him.
“Were you a spoiled little girl and he had to teach you a lesson?”
Sam jerked at the word “girl”. The memory of Dan calling him that and the pain
that followed that word still too fresh.
“Cat got your tongue, Sammy, or something? Speak!”
Fuck, but Dean was fed up with Sam just standing there and staring at his
stupid feet. Bitch usually wouldn't shut up and was now barely able to open his
mouth.
In a few quick steps Dean was back infront of Sam. Still angry he gripped Sam's
jaw hard, fingers digging into the soft flesh of Sam's cheek and jaw, making
Sam look at him.
Dean's eyes, filled with rage, met Sam's for a few silent moments, then
traveled to the bruise on his brother's cheek bone. “Were you the same kind of
bitch with him you are with me now? Bet you deserved the beating you got,” Dean
hissed between clenched teeth. Words meant to hurt, purposefully mean.
And something in Sam snapped. No no no. He wanted to scream at Dean “I was
raped”. To show Dean all of the bruises, slashes and burns. Wanted to see
Dean's face twist in guilt over what he had said, implying that Sam enjoyed
what had happened and had wanted it.
At the moment, it didn't matter that Dean didn't know about Dan and Aaron. Sam
felt the anger at what was done to him boil inside of himself.
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up,” he shouted and pushed Dean away. Quickly stepping
away from his brother.
Sam dug one hand into his backpack and got a hold of the envelope filled with
money.
“Here!” Sam threw the envelope at Dean and it hit him in the chest.
The impact opened the white envelope and the dollar bills fell out, fluttering
to the floor around Dean's feet.
Dean's eyes widened at seeing all of that money.
“I got you the stupid money for Kelly's abortion,” Sam was still shouting.
As Dean looked back between the money and Sam, the moment of surprise he felt
was quickly  replaced with a new anger, as he put two and two together.
“You whored yourself out,” Dean spat at Sam in accusation. Sounding like he had
something dirty in his mouth.
Sam clutched at the spark of anger he had found in himself. Looked defiantly
back at his brother, lips pressed together.
“So all those days I was worried about you, you were riding cock after cock?!”
Dean felt jealousy twist in his stomach at the thought of all those strangers
touching his brother. Of how many it must have taken to get that kind of money.
Felt like a joke. Like a fool. At sitting around at home like some heart broken
wife. Worrying, drinking, blaming himself for Sam leaving him.
Feeling like crap.  Trying to decide what finally pushed Sam away. Blaming
himself for letting that thing with Kelly go so far it chased Sam away. And all
that while Sam was having fun and letting his inner slut out. Earning money by
doing his favorite activity – by getting fucked.
It hurt badly and he needed to hurt Sam back. Knew just what would do it.
“While gagging on dick after dick, did it even occur to you that maybe I don't
want her to have the abortion? That maybe I want her to keep the baby? To raise
it with her?”  
And Dean was talking complete bullshit. But knowing how much Sam despised and
envied Kelly, he used that against his little brother.
Sam gasped at Deans words. Felt something twist and give inside him.
Dean wanted the baby.
He wanted that child.
Wanted to have it with Kelly.
So all... All Sam had gone through was in complete vain.
“You... you want the baby?” The words Sam uttered sounded small and were
stuttered.
Seeing the shock on Sam's face Dean knew he hit a nerve and his sadistic side
wanted to punish more, to twist that knife deeper.
“What, you thought I'd wait for you? For my faggot little brother who can't
decide what gender he wants to be?”
And god, he needed to shut up, he knew he did, but fuck Sam for running away
and letting all those men near what should only be Dean's. Fuck him for making
Dean feel like a pile of shit. Of not caring enough to leave a note or a call.
“You really thought I'd want you, if I can have a real woman like Kelly?”
Sam felt those worlds like a physical blow and his eyes burned with the tears
forming. “You...you don't...”, he couldn't get out the “mean that” as his
throat closed up.
Dean must have heard that something has changed, cause he stopped talking and
some of the fury disappeared from his face.
Dean's words were still resonating inside Sam's head. It was like what he had
feared most was becoming real. Dean choosing Kelly.
He got the money for the price of getting himself beaten and raped by two
psychos and it was all for nothing. For Dean to leave him for his stupid
girlfriend to start a perfect little family with her.
Have a cute little baby. 'Something you'll never be able to give him,' a voice
whispered inside Sam.
The perfect woman for his big brother. Even Dean thought so.
Has Sam only been an easy fuck all this time. The little gender-confused
brother who love to be called “girl” andreadily spread his legs cause he had
that deep undying love and adoration for his big brother.
“I...I....” It was like Sam was hearing something shatter inside him. He needed
to go. The past days catching up with him and now what Dean said, was just too
much.
And Sam was turning away and running.
He would not stay in this shit-hole of a place and watch his brother leave.
***** Pic Spam *****
Chapter Summary
     I did not forget about this story.
     It's still on my mind a lot and I try to write, but many things keep
     my muse and inspiration away from really making me write anything.
     I'm really sorry I'm always making you all who enjoy this story/
     characters wait so long for more.
     Here's a little something.
[image]
Sam at three.
A neighbor of theirs got a puppy and Sam was allowed to play outside with him.
He called him “Dee”, cause he though it was funny to see Dean scowl over the
name.
Two weeks later they were playing catch, when a car appeared from nowhere. It
hit the puppy and it lay badly hurt, bloody and whimpering on the ground.
Dean put it into a plastic bag, Sammy helped him collect some stones they also
put inside the bag and they dawned the dying puppy in the lake near the trailer
park.
Sam way crying and holding Deans hand as they watched the plastic bag sink
under.
~~
[image]
When Dean was eleven Sam coughed the influenza virus. They didn’t have money
for medicine, Sammy only got a few fever reducing pills Dean stole in the
school infirmary.
To afford getting the meds needed, Dean would go to the supermarket near buy,
sit outside and beg for money.
A older guy took Dean to his car. Dean gave him a hand-job and the guy drove
them to the pharmacy and bought them meds needed in return.
~~
[image]
After a bad beating by their dad, Sam ran away when he was nine.
Dean searched for him for two days and finally found him sleeping behind a
broken down factory.
~~
Sammy at 12, realizing he is different and wants to be more like the girls at
his school.
[image]
~~
Sam watching Dean having sex with one of his many girlfriends.
[image]
~~
[image]
Carl, filming Sam giving him a lap dance.
~~
[image]
Sam with José.
José loves putting a leash on Sam. Make him crawl and bark. Will make him sit
like that even with other guys around who with permission also can use Sam.
When with José, Sam is usually drunk or one drugs. He hates being humiliated
like that.
But José is Dean’s boss and Sam doesn’t want for Dean to lose his job.
~~
[image]
Sammy making Dean late for work by begging “Fuck me big brother, put your cock
in me”
~~
How I imagine the insides of the trailer they live in.
[image]
On the left is S/D’s room, on the right John’s room.
[image]
Their place being dirty and run down.
~~
Around their trailer and the trailer park they live in
[image] [image] [image] [image] [image]
~~
And some Sammy candy
[image] [image] [image] [image]
***** Chapter 17 *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam runs away and Dean goes after him
Chapter Notes
     My thanks go to hahanoiwont.tumblr.con for beta reading.
     And of course to all the people reading this story and caring about
     those two boys and their dysfunctional relationship <3
~~~
Dean stared at the place where Sam had just stood.
Heard the front door bang open and the sound of feet running away.
Sam.
Sam was running away. Leaving.
Sam was leaving.
And with what Dean had just said, probably for good this time.
Fuck!!! Dean took after him. Through the living room, out the door and down the
steps.
Saw Sam's retreating back as he ran along the dirt road leading out of the
trailer park. Though it was more quick limping than running.
It was dark, the dirt road only illuminated by the light inside the mobile
homes places along the road.
Dean quickly caught up to him. “Sam, stop.”
But Sam kept on moving.
Dean picked up speed and got in front of Sam. “Stop.”
Sam just got around him and kept on walking. Not acknowledging Dean in any way.
“Fuck, Sam just stop!” Dean grabbed for the backpack hanging from Sam's right
hand and tugged on it hard, making Sam stop and turn partially around with the
momentum.
Sam's chest was heaving, but his glace was cast to the ground, not looking up
at his brother.
Their hands stretched, as they were both holding into Sam's backpack. Each
grasping one of its  straps, leaving it dangling in mid-air.
“Come on, Sam. Let's go back.”
Dean watched Sam's jaw tense before his brother looked at him with angry eyes.
The hurt in them was made apparent by their wet shine.
“Go back?! Go back!” Sam's voice was close to a screech. “What for Dean, so you
can fuck off to your happy family with Kelly?” Sam tugged once hard at the
backpack, trying to get it loose from Dean's grip.
“Sa…”
But Sam was not done. “Or go back to listen to you calling me more names? Let
you rub it in more that I'll never be good enough?” Another hard tug on the
backpack by Sam, and this time, Dean stumbled a little forward with it.
“I didn't mean it, Sam! You just drive me up the fucking walls!”
“Let—the fuck—go!” Sam pulled on the backpack again, determined to get it free
so he could get out of this place. To fucking leave Dean.
He was not staying here any longer. He would get away. Away from Dean and
Kelly. Away from Dean's ugly words. Dean made it perfectly clear what Sam was
to him. Just a faggot who can't decide his gender.
He just couldn't take in anymore. First Dan, then Aaron then Dean. At least his
anger and hurt at Dean made Dan and Aaron seem like a faraway memory at the
moment.
“I'm not letting you leave!” Dean's eyes were wild as he tugged back hard at
the backpack.
With a tearing sound it tore at the strap in Sam's hand along the seam. The
backpack fell to the ground and spilled its contents with the impact.
They both stared at the ground.
Sam watched the couple of things that had spilled onto the dirt. Among the
cloths, toiletries, the pills from Dan, his wallet and phone, lay the picture
of Dean he had had with him.
The picture he only hours ago had longingly starred at. Wanting to finally get
home back to Dean after days full of pain, full of torture and rape. The
picture had given him something to look forward to, a goal to reach, and helped
him push through the pain.
And what for?
“Bet you deserved the beating you got“
“Maybe I want her to keep the baby”
“…faggot...”
“You thought I'd want you, if I can have a real woman?”
All Dean's words still like an echo inside Sam's head.
Sam felt his eyes burn. He didn't need any of this anyway.
“Fuck you, Dean! Fuck you!!”
And Sam was running again. Faster this time.
It hurt so fucking much. His ass, his back, his chest. He was sure some of the
wounds had torn open again. But he had to get away or….
There was no “or”. He didn't know what the “or” even was. Just lying down and
dying? Get himself some pills, or a gun?
Without Dean, without his love, there was no “or” for Sam anyway.
And Dean made it obviously clear how he felt.
Sam came to a violent stop as the fabric of his sweatshirt was gripped at its
back and he was tugged backwards, stumbling and falling, landing hard on his
bruised back.
In the next second the hard impact was registering with his brain and Sam
screamed out in pain. His whole body twisting first up and then to the side,
curling up.
Dean stood above his brother, panting from the sprint to go after him.
Sam was whimpering in pain, curling up on his side into a fetal position and
Dean stared at him with wide eyes.
He’d just wanted to stop Sam. Just grabbed for whatever he could get hold of
first to make Sam stop running. And yeah, the fall and impact had been hard,
but Dean didn't understand how Sam could be in that much of pain over it.
The next whimper was accompanied by a sob leaving Sam, and a moment later,
Sam's whole body shook in silent crying.
“Sammy?” Dean stopped hovering above him and got down onto his knees beside his
brother, kneeling behind Sam's back. Pitiful sounds were leaving the younger
boy and Dean grew more concerned by the second. Maybe he fell badly and really
hurt something seriously.
There was no reply, just more silent cries. Dean's eyes traveled up and down
the hurt body, trying to find any clue of what it could be.
The fall made pain shoot through his whole body. The wounds and bruises on his
back and ass, the ones on his thighs, his hole and insides, all aching in
agony. All at once. His vision went black for a moment, before he twisted
himself onto his side, curling together, hiding from any new pain to come.
It hurt. It hurt so bad. Sam almost couldn't breathe through it. He wanted to
just pass out, to die. Wanted a break from it all. Not to feel anything. He'd
been in constant pain for way too long.
The physical pain, mixed with the hurt Dean had inflicted on him, was just too
much. It was just too much. There was no getting away from any of it. He
couldn't stop the crying that started even if he’d wanted to.
He heard Dean there, felt his presence, heard him speak. But it didn't matter
anymore. What he said, what he did. Sam was just done. He covered his face with
his palms. Whatever Dean decided to do or to say, Sam didn't care. Let him
throw in some more punches, twist the knife a bit deeper.
It was over. He didn't want to run anymore, didn't want to fight.
Dean's searching look finally got to Sam's face, hidden by hands. One of the
sleeves from Sam's sweater had pulled down on his arm and that's when Dean saw
it.
The bruised wrist. Raw skin, blood crusting over scrapes, purple mixed in with
reds and green. Bruises apparent from ropes or a wire. Bruises so severe that
to get them, someone would have to have fought hard to get free.
His eyes focused in on the revealed lower arm and he saw more bruises. Circular
wounds crusted over. Cigarette burns, his mind supplied. Dean was all too
familiar with how much those hurt, after getting on the bad side of their dad
when he was a kid.
What had Sam done? What did he allow to be done to him, to get so bruised up
and to get so much money?
“Sammy, come on, let’s get you up,” Dean said as he touched one of Sam's
shoulders and shook him to get his attention.
Sam hissed and pulled away from his touch, his shoulder curling towards his
chest.
“Don't…,” it was the first thing out of Sam's mouth since he ran off. It was
weak. Just a whisper.
“Sam, look at me.” With his previous anger out of his system, Dean became more
and more aware that something was awfully wrong here.
Sam coming home limping, looking exhausted, an aura of sadness around him, his
body held as if in pain.
To which you just added by hitting him more, a voice inside his head accused
him.
“Sammy.” Dean curled over Sam, reached for his wrists – careful not to squeeze
– and pulled at them to get a look of Sam's face.
Sam didn't fight him. His eyes were shut, lashes sticking together and wet from
the tears that were still coming.
The uncovered side of Sam's face was the one darkening with the punch Dean had
hit him with earlier when Sam got home.
Dean's stomach twisted with guilt.
Dean bent over Sam, pressed his forehead to Sam's temple. “I'm sorry, Sammy,”
he whispered.
He knew that once more, his anger and jealousy had made things worse and he’d
gone too far.
Another time to add to the seeming endless list of times that he was the one to
hurt his brother the worst.
“What did you let them do to you?” Dean asked quietly. More himself than of
Sam.
He heard Sam's breath hitch. “Didn't...let…,” and the stuttered words broke
off.
Dean set back up. One hand on the nape of Sam's neck and one around his wrist,
he started to help Sam up from the dirt.
This time, Sam's body moved along. He whimpered as he sat up on his butt and
Dean felt Sam's body tremble from where he was holding his wrist.
Dean stood up and pulled Sam up with him. Steadied Sam as he stumbled and bent
in half. Whatever was causing the pain was not allowing Sam to stand straight
anymore.
“You want me to carry you?”
Sam shook his head in answer.
For a moment, Dean felt so helpless. Sammy looked so weak and so young.
Standing on trembling legs, his arms curled across his middle as he was
slightly bent forward in pain, swaying, eyes to the ground, his face so pale
the bruises on it almost looked black.
He didn't know what to do. How to help, make it all better.
Dean took one of Sam's hands into his and lead him back home.
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