Chapter Text
Chapter 1)
Dean Winchester still didn’t know what he was doing in Baltimore. He didn’t mind the atmosphere, it wasn’t worse or better than any other big city. But the living was cheap, the pay was good, and he had found work in a local restoration shop after a recommendation from Bobby. He had even managed to set up his apartment with enough creature comforts to call it home and had a guest bed in case Sam ever decided to come visit from California.
All in all, he was content. It was hard sometimes, though. He and Sammy had given up on hunting after they had found Mom’s killer and they had lost their dad. So here he was, trying to get on with it. The civilian life, settling into a routine, having a place to go home to… Sometimes it felt like too much. But he was content. Or he had been, until he had started to feel that itch under his skin. It wasn’t one that he mentioned to others, knowing they wouldn’t understand. It was that burning need that kept him up at night.
The itch of bad decisions and reckless behavior.
It was that itch that had gotten him his first tattoo. The itch that had gotten him the tongue piercing and a fine appreciation for what good leather felt like. It was the itch that had him sinking to his knees whenever he couldn’t contain it until someone scratched it enough to keep him from going insane.
That itch that led him to the local community pages and eyeing up events to attend.
This wasn’t something he would ever share with Sammy, despite how much his overgrown dweeb of a brother would have listened. He didn’t share this with anyone. It was the dirty part of his life that he held just for him, the parts that he hid from everyone else behind a cocksure attitude and a heartbreaking grin. It wasn’t done and wasn’t right. He wasn’t going to be that person who was out and proud in society with a collar around his neck. This was just his. Something he kept hidden and secret. Well… until he got to the club.
He had found his first club when he was 19, when Dad had left them alone and Sam was off studying, he had wandered into a building and found a bunch of people learning how to use whips. The Indiana Jones aesthetic appealed to him and he fell into the free class with ease and excitement. But then they were asking for people to volunteer, to try it out… and Dean was intrigued.
The first lick of leather kissing skin was all it took for him to fall in love with the freedom that pain offered. The second bloomed fire that warmed like lava in his stomach, the third felt like a line of clear, oblivious pain straight to his cock. From that day on, he was hooked.
So here he was, pulling into a nondescript parking lot outside of a short warehouse on the edge of charm city, just down from the art school and in a sketchy neighborhood that made his neck crawl to leave Baby alone. He ran his hands down his jeans and breathed in and out slowly before getting out and closing her door, locking it behind him. He stared up at the warehouse and made his way up to it, knocking on the door.
A pretty blonde woman answered, hair dragged up in a braided ponytail, a simple metal collar around her neck. “Hi there,” she greeted him easily and let him inside. The lobby was warm, a folding table set up with a laptop and a stack of forms, industrial shelving holding some stock. There was a large curtain in front of him that led into the rest of the warehouse, a changing area to the right that held more shelving filled with bags and clothes.
“First time to the Play Space?” The girl was polite as she checked the list against his ID as he read the contract and signed it. He breathed slowly and took his ID, shifting into the changing room and hanging up his jacket, shrugging out of his shirt and then breathing slowly before he slipped back to the play space.
The first section was just couches, loungers, chairs, filled with people talking and conversing. A snack bar was set up, water and drinks available, snacks and other food for those who needed it. He noted another closed door leading to a lounge where smoke curled up into the rafters. He hesitated as he saw the second opening into the larger play space, past the tables where whips and other impact elements were set up for sale. He eyed them and then tried his best to figure out what type of night he was in for.
He took a few minutes to steady himself before he slipped through the curtain and was immediately assaulted by the sounds of debauchery and sin. Lust ran her claws up his spine as he took in the sprawl of the dungeon before him. There were different scenes going in the sprawling warehouse, a woman on a pole, dancing naked for a few admirers. There were two different subs strung up on crosses, one getting whipped, the other flogged. There was a couple fucking on one of the free beds, two medical scenes in the far corner and a man with a cage trapped around his head, suspended from the ceiling so he had to stand up tall while a woman paddled his ass.
His eyes scanned as he moved forward, instinctively, catching on a rigger who was tying intricate knots around a young slender man, and jerking to stare as a woman in a corset and panties drew a flaming torch across the bare skin of another woman. He breathed, in and out, taking in the scents of too many bodies smothered in Lust and Greed’s tender embraces. If ever there was a night for sin, it was this one.
He stalked around, catching sight of all of the coupled people, spotting a group wrestling match he itched to join before something else caught his sight, arresting all movements as he settled on his heels. His eyes widened as he caught sight of a beautiful man across the way. He blinked and moved to get a better view, making sure he wasn’t in the way of someone’s scene and settled in.
There was a gorgeous man, massive in build and towering above the others. He was easily Sammy’s height, wide shoulders and powerful thighs framing a trim waist and exaggerated v. He was naked, cock laying heavy between his thighs and his glorious red hair pulled back by a simple black blindfold. His red lips were parted as his chest heaved, strong arms tied behind his back, connected with rope that kept him trapped and vulnerable. Dean took a slow breath as he let his eyes feast on the man. He looked powerful enough to do Dean harm and that was his favorite type of man. Suddenly, a dark-haired man strolled from behind the redhead, his blue eyes piercing even from this distance.
Dean felt his heart stutter as he took in the smooth, lean planes of the man’s body, his back rippling in the spotlights as he circled the redhead and stood in front of him. He was clothed in a pair of deep blue jeans and nothing else, the artful fall of his raven hair captivating. He whispered something that had the redhead’s chin falling to his chest and Dean’s own stomach curled in anticipation as he stepped closer, wanting a better view.
He got close enough to hear the dark-haired man and spent several moments enjoying his beauty. He was supple, smooth and vibrant. He was perhaps an inch shorter than Dean and nearly half a head shorter than the man so beautifully trussed up for him. Dean licked his lips unconsciously and watched as the man pulled out a flat leather paddle, then a flogger and set them aside. Both looked like great choices and Dean felt his own dick twitch in anticipation from the pain they would bring the handsome sub.
Dean had to strain to hear the raven-haired man when he got close to the redhead. “There we go, sweet boy. I’ve got you Jamie… What’s your color, Boy?”
“Green, Sir,” the man managed and then suddenly the dark-haired man was slapping him firmly across the thigh with the narrow paddle, the thick thud of leather on skin sending a shiver up Dean’s spine. Jamie, the redhead, arched into the feeling, mouth falling open to pant as the dark-haired man laid another firm swat across his other thigh. Both of them bloomed red over pale skin to show the word slut embossed from the harsh slap of the paddle. The man dropped the paddle to pick up the heavy flogger, a smile spreading pink lips.
He flicked his wrist to shake out all of the tails and then shifted before slapping it firmly against Jamie’s chest. Jamie’s neck arched back, bringing a small grunt from Dean’s throat as a low wail left the redheaded man. Dean shifted, his own skin growing warm with arousal as he watched three more strikes snap out and land firmly against the man’s skin. His pale skin bloomed red, blossomed with pain and the closeness of blood not yet spilt.
Dark and Handsome, D&H… Dean liked it enough to call the dominant man that in his head, moved closer. “Shush, Jamie, I’m right here.” The reassurance was almost funny because the flogger snapped out again and again. Over and over. Dean felt his own stomach clench with each heavy thud against skin. When Jamie finally broke and tried to squirm away, D&H tsked and moved back. “Well now… it appears you’ve forgotten where I placed you, Jamie.”
His movements were sinuous as he reached into the bag and came out with a violet wand. Dean leaned forward, riveted as D&H reached out and quickly shoved it into Jamie’s side, earning another wail before it was pulled away. “Don’t pull away from me again, Jamie, be good for me, Sweetheart.” D&H’s voice was soft and sweet even as he warned the panting man.
Dean’s cock was straining against his jeans and he shivered in the thick air of the dungeon. He itched, desperate for it all, wishing he could be in Jamie’s place. He wanted to feel the hot slice of leather on skin, feel the crack of a whip, the thud of a hand striking flesh. He was desperate for the sensation, the pleasure, and pain to consume him. Jamie straightened and Dean tensed in anticipation as D&H stalked closer. “Good boy, Jamie… stay still,” he was warned before the flogger came out again, once. Twice. Three times it fell as Jamie grunted through each, cock hard and leaking precum to the chuck below him. D&H moved forward then, his blue eyes gleaming. Dean bit his lip and shifted a little closer as D&H reached out to stroke Jamie’s cock, ripping a moan from the redheaded man as Dean stifled a whimper.
D&H shifted closer, whispered something Dean couldn’t hear and it threw Jamie’s head back as he whined and trembled, trying not to move despite his body pushing him closer to D&H’s hand. Dean could see how hard it was, watched as Jamie drew close, mouth open and panting, pleas beginning to fall from bruised lips. Dean was waiting, coiled and desperate in his own right, his jeans impossibly tight as he stayed riveted on the scene in front of him.
And then D&H pulled away causing Jamie to wail in frustration. Suddenly, the paddle was back flipped over so it wouldn’t leave the imprint of the word slut upon skin and four more harsh strikes fell against Jamie’s abs. Jamie twisted to try and avoid the last strike, the blow landing on his ribs and he was zapped twice for his efforts with the violet wand. That seemed to break Jamie and Dean wavered on his feet as he watched the man yank at his restraints and cry out. “Please!” Jamie wailed as he stood gasping and trembling. Dean felt gooseflesh tear down his spine at the desperation in the other man’s voice. “Please Sir! Cannae cum?”
Fuck. Dean had been there, he had gotten to that desperate place before when the whip’s kiss left him panting and begging for release and absolution that wouldn’t come without permission. He had been taken to that razor’s edge of desperation and relief and his eyes widened, frozen as he watched. D&H circled Jamie and then reached around him and clamped a hand down on his cock as another came to his throat. Jamie jerked and gasped then wailed as D&H spoke a single word. “Cum.”
Dean had to lock his knees not to fall to them as he watched Jamie arch up into the man’s hold on his throat and cum with a keening moan. Dean swore as he spilled inside of his jeans, a flush rising in his cheeks as he took one last, longing glance at the couple and then slipped away to leave. He felt eyes watching him and he swallowed and glanced back, seeing D&H staring at him across Jamie’s shoulder. He flushed and tried to hide the longing in his eyes as he turned to disappear behind the curtain.
Dean paused with his hand on it, the hair on the back of his neck rising with the feeling of eyes and he flushed, quickly making his escape.