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Sam knelt by the motel bed, hands placed on his thighs, heart choked up in his throat. He watched his brother diligently replacing the salt line along the bottom of the door and Sam could swear he was drawing it out on purpose.
He tongued at the salt-copper blood on his upper lip. Bloody nose that his sleeve didn’t quite sop up before he took off his clothes and sat there, like Dean had told him to, like a patient little present. Adrenaline raced through him, not just remnants of getting knocked around at the hunt they had returned from, but from watching the muscles of Dean’s back, his hands; the knowledge of what’s to come.
When Dean was finally satisfied, he strode over to Sam, peeling off his jacket and flannel. He reached down, rubbed a thumb across Sam’s bottom lip. “Get up.” His tone was gentle but the command was clear.
Sam got to his feet looking down at his brother. “All fours on the corner of the bed.” Dean’s expression was resolute and Sam wanted to kiss him badly. But he had agreed to give up all his power tonight and let Dean call the shots.
Sam glanced at the bed, hesitating for a moment, deciding what Dean meant. Dean cleared his throat sharply and Sam moved to obey, arranging himself on his hands and knees feeling somewhat awkward.
Dean nudged him, made him shuffle and adjust so that his ass was exposed at the end of the bed, his body on an angle so that his face (his mouth) was accessible from the side of the bed. The worn out mattress dipped with his weight and he felt precariously perched there, core working to keep himself balanced.
“Perfect,” Dean crooned, sliding a hand down Sam’s flank and patting his hip. Sam’s cock twitched just at the simple touch, he was so keyed up.
He was left alone again as Dean rifled through his duffle. His new duffle. The one filled with things he intended to slowly introduce to Sam. Though curious, Sam hadn’t looked through it. He was nervous about what he might find, worried he would freak out. He wanted to give this to Dean, trust him to guide him through this newfound pleasure; give up complete control.
This, though, was definitely something new -well, not new due to their job; new between Dean and him- the feeling of smooth rope wending its way around his ankles. The rope was looped under the bed and now his brother was visible. “Lift up and hold out your arms.”
He spread his knees a little further, keeping his balance as he tipped his weight back and raised his arms. Dean pushed them together and began tying his wrists.
“I know you can get out of this, but it’s in your best interest to comply. The rules for tonight are no speaking unless I ask you a question and don't move.”
Sam swallowed, nodded. They had talked about it over greasy diner fries he barely had the stomach for once the conversation turned to the desires Dean had been hiding. Sam was at odds with it. Nothing good ever came of him not having control. And he balked at the idea of being told what to do, assuming it would feel like John barking orders, which had boiled his blood so hard as a teenager, it made it easier to leave the family.
But, this was Dean and Sam trusted him resolutely. And he somehow wore him down, convinced Sam that it would be good for him, that he needed to get out of his head and let go. After how they grew up, everything they’ve seen, after being apart, after Jessica.
Dean was finished and stared down at Sam looking awed. Sam took in his restraints. He looked like he was praying to his brother, like a false god. “Now, lean back down.”
Sam leaned forward on his elbows and knees, keeping his eyes locked on Dean as long as he could. He heard Dean’s breath hitch.
“Fuck, Sammy, you look…” Dean bit his lip and knelt to loop and tie the rope to reduce the slack between Sam’s wrists and feet. He rose and paced out of sight again.
“Goddamn.” Sam’s ass was gently caressed. “I love you like this. Exposed, waiting. Like a good boy.” Sam shivered. Why did he like that so much? He was a fucking man , goddamnit, but coming from his big brother, the words melted him.
Last time, when they were fucking around and Dean was testing him before asking for what he really wanted, it had just been Dean’s hand slapping his ass raw, but now he felt strips of some cool fabric tickling down his back, lighting his skin up with goosebumps.
They brushed across his ass cheeks, down his thighs, teasing, and he felt himself clench up involuntarily, waiting for the first strike.
Dean snapped his wrist sending the flog sprawling across Sam’s ass. He flinched, gasped, but despite the sound the leather made, it didn’t hurt as much as he had expected. Dean hit him several times the same way and his skin started to tingle and sting pleasantly as the leather rained down on his ass.
It was fucking good . Better than being spanked by Dean’s hand. It somehow felt much naughtier now that there was so much intention and implements were involved. But he couldn't quiet the part of him that started to worry about his balls getting hit, his hole. He was so exposed, vulnerable.
“Relax, Sam. I got you.” Sam took a deep breath and he realized that Dean was right, he was rigid and guarded. Rolling his shoulders, he tried to let the tension ebb away. He trusted Dean, he knew what he was doing.
Dean started again, upping the intensity. Sam was making breathy noises, relishing the stinging impact, and he noticed his tolerance to the pain building the hotter and more worked up he got. His cock was thickening and he wiggled his ass, wanting more.
“No, Sam,” Dean said sharply and hit him again, decidedly harder. Sam yelped, feeling the sting on a more localized spot on his ass than before like a thick whip. “Be still, I know what’s best for you.” Sam said nothing, biting back a retort, trying to focus on the sensation of the flog.
Dean continued like that, working the flog so that the strips moved more as one, dealing harder slaps, figure-eighting across his ass. Sam was loving every minute of it, and started moaning softly when the stinging was becoming a lingering pain.
When Dean finally eased up, Sam was fully hard and his whole body was starting to ache deliciously from staying as still as possible.
“You’re doing so good, baby, such a natural,” Dean murmured deep and low, rubbing a cool palm across Sam’s heated ass.
Sam fought the urge to press back against it. “You feeling good?”
“So fucking good.” When had he started breathing so heavily?
Dean hummed and reached around to grip Sam’s cock, stoking it from root to tip once, twice, nearly driving him out of his skin. “So submissive for me. I knew you’d take to this, knew you’d like this, always have.” Sam moaned out and Dean stopped abruptly, hands leaving Sam’s body again.
Sam whimpered, head hanging. His thoughts felt foggy and distant with lust. This should be weird, he shouldn’t like this, he certainly shouldn’t be ok with being called submissive. But he just didn’t care.
“This is going to be…more,” Dean said, and a thick, flat, object glided down Sam’s back, across his sensitive ass.
“Nod if you’re ready.”
Sam did, a nervous excitement building.
The paddle slapped against his skin making a sharp, loud sound. Sam’s eyes flew open with the stinging pain of it. It was so different from the flog and must be something hard and inflexible wrapped in leather given how much it fucking hurt. Strict and insistent, the pain going much deeper.
He was hit again, and again, both cheeks of his ass being mercilessly abused. Sweat began to break out all over Sam’s body from the attack as he grunted.
“Fuck, god Dean!” And the punishment was immediate: Dean hit him hard on the same spot of his ass three times, louder cracks sounding through the stale air.
“Behave yourself.”
Sam bit his lip hard. Nothing about this was normal, allowing himself to be hurt. His hindbrain screamed at him to move, to retreat, attack, disobey more; but, for once, Sam ignored all of it and honed in on the exquisite, sharp blows. His logic slowly shut down, giving in; he existed to feel the sweet hurt in this controlled, safe way, at the hands of his brother.
Sam eventually became aware of Dean stopping. His mouth was hanging open and he was bucking his hips forward. A loud ringing sounded in his ears and his cock throbbed with a heavy ache. His body felt floaty, untethered.
“Do you realize how loud you’re getting?” Dean was panting heavily.
“N-no, I…”
“If you keep it up I’ll gag you,” Dean rasped. Sam trembled. He kind of wanted that but he also wanted to be good for Dean. The best.
The pain was intrusive and made desire pool hot and low in his belly so strongly that he felt like he could come just like this. He wondered idly how he wasn’t bleeding, as hit after hit slapped down on his ass. But he knew that Dean was taking care of him. Like he always did.
When Dean stopped it took all Sam’s willpower not to beg for more. He was panting, chest pressed down over his tied up wrists, hole clenching and unclenching with want. Sweat dripped off his brow and his shoulders and knees were complaining in the best way.
“You’re so beautiful. You look so free. You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this to you.”
Dean reached to stroke Sam’s cock again and his grip slipped making Sam whine and thrust into his hand. “Jesus, you’re dripping wet. Big brother always knows what you want, huh?”
Sam moaned as Dean’s hand retreated and rubbed slick across his hole. “Answer me.”
“Y-yes!”
“Always knows what’s best, what will get you off the most?” Using Sam’s precome to ease the way, his finger tip slipped inside
“Fuck, yes, yes!”
The finger pumped in and out a couple times and withdrew. Dean was in front of him now and Sam pitched forward to nuzzle and mouth at the bulge in his brother’s jeans.
“Fuck Sam, you want it?”
Sam nodded against the fabric. “Yes!”
Dean quickly undid his pants, pulling his cock out.
“Open.”
Looking up into Dean’s eyes, Sam’s jaw fell immediately. Dean’s face was flushed, eyelids heavy with lust. Sam felt a thrill of pride that he did that. By being so good, doing exactly what Dean wanted, that his brother was hard and needy.
“So obedient. It looks so good on you, Sammy.” The silky, velvet of Dean’s cock pushed into his mouth and it grounded Sam, bringing him fully back to his body.
“Hold still, let me use you.” Oh god yes. Sam froze as Dean threaded his fingers in his hair and started fucking his cock in and out of his mouth. Sam immediately wanted it deeper, wanted to drool and gag on it. But he didn’t want to disobey. So he just relaxed his throat and hoped Dean would give him what he wanted.
Dean’s calm, cool restraint started to unravel. He may have experience with being in control, expanded his sexual repertoire by playing at being dominant while Sam expanded his mind at school, but Dean seemed to have a lot to learn about how these things should go. And Sam smirked the best he could at that. He wondered how strict and stoic Dean was with people he didn't worship.
Dean began driving his cock further and further into Sam’s willing throat, gripping his hair tight so he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Sam rolled his tongue around adding friction and letting his spit run sloppy down his chin. “Fuck, fuck, shit, yeah, Sam, perfect hole for me to fuck.”
The praise made Sam’s balls draw up tight. He let his gag reflex hitch on the head of Dean’s cock, toes curling at the idea of not being able to handle his brother’s length. The dirty, undone noises Dean was making were killing him.
“God, you’re going to make me come with that slutty mouth of yours,” Dean groaned, yanking his cock out and gripping the base, face clenched up. “But you’ve done so good and I know you want that ass stuffed.” Sam nodded fervently, swallowing down the please yes, yes along with his spit .
After moving back around the bed, Dean knelt to the floor and smoothed his palms over Sam’s raw skin. “You have the prettiest welts on your ass, all raised and puffy.”
The sting from the wet of Dean’s tongue was absolute heaven. It quickly melted away to pure pleasure as he licked across his abused cheeks soothingly.
Then Sam felt Dean rasp over his neglected hole and he barked a moan. Dean ate him out, sucking and licking at his hole and perineum until he felt the urgent prod of Dean’s fingertips, slick with lube.
The fingers that were fed slowly into Sam’s ass felt better than they had since they first started fucking around. Better than anything that's been put up his ass. His oversensitive nerves were alive with the pleasure Dean was giving him as he opened his hole up. An incredible contrast to the searing pain of getting hit, the persistent burn of his cheeks
It was enough, he was ready, but Dean kept at it making him crazy, fucking him with three fingers spreading wide inside, licking around them hungrily.
Dean finally pulled them out and Sam heard him spit, felt it hit his hole. “You like that sweetheart?”
“Fuck, yes,” Sam groaned, feeling filthy.
Dean spat again and smeared his thumb across his hole mixing it up with the lube before fucking his fingers back in. “Take anything I give you, huh?”
“Anything.”
“You’re so good, not begging for this cock. I know you want it bad. Your ass sure is begging for it, winking at me and clutching at my fingers.”
Sam heard his brother get up and his heart pounded harder, biting his lip. Fuck me fuck me fuck me.
“Gonna fuck you like you need, baby boy.”
Dean started excruciatingly slow, rubbing the thick head of his dick on Sam’s hole for what felt like an eternity before feeding it in. He fucked it in and out, shallow, not giving Sam any more as if he were testing him. Sam knew if he said a word Dean would withdraw.
When he was good and quiet, Dean gave him more and more inches, fucking him slow and good until he bottomed out on every thrust.
“Your ass looks so fucking good taking my cock,” Dean said picking up the pace of his thrusts, “red and sensitive. Beautiful.”
Sam grunted, holding back his own filthy words, already feeling close. The heat churning deliciously in his gut.
“Bet you want to come, huh? Making a mess on the bed like you are?” Dean palmed his cock, stroking it in time to his deep thrusts. His brother truly knew how to fuck him better than anyone.
Sam felt it building, felt his muscles and balls tighten up with the intensity.
Then his cock was dropped. Sam choked an aborted groan as Dean pulled out, spitting on his hole again and rubbing it around with his cock head before fucking back inside with slow drags.
“You come when I say you come,” Dean said, and Sam clenched hard around his brother’s cock to that commanding voice, to being completely in his control. It was intoxicating.
He let himself get rammed into like a rag doll. Letting Dean take what he wanted, give what Sam needed. His wrists, ankles, shoulder blades aching and complaining only made it that much hotter.
Sam was being stroked again in quick cruel jerks that made him shake. Again, he was getting incredibly close, revelling in the deep stretch of his insides around Dean’s cock.
Just as his body was about to push him over the edge, Dean let him go and slowed his hips, making Sam whine in frustration
“Tssk patience, sweetheart.”
“Dean, I n- I need.” He needed Dean to stop fucking around and stoke his dick. He felt like he would die if he didn't come soon.
“Nuhuh, you can do it.”
He couldn’t be serious. “I can’t!”
Sam was spanked cruelly on his right cheek, several sharp raps with Dean’s palm, ratcheting up how close Sam was.
“On my cock or not at all. And only when I say.”
“God!” The pounding was unrelenting and Sam nearly blacked out when his brother shifted to nail his prostate better on every thrust.
“Look at you, trussed up, takin' it so well. Obeying. Your fucking cunt swallowing my cock.” Dean’s fingers dug into Sam’s hips and it was a new, welcomed pain.
Sam keened, delirious need overwhelming him, cock aching like he’s never experienced before. He clenched his eyes shut imagining what he must look like submitting to his big brother, letting him whip him and then turn his ass out. Cock jutting out dripping and throbbing between his legs. He could hardly stand it.
“Come, do it now,” Dean barked.
Wave after wave of dizzying pleasure slammed through him as his cock gave it up all over the sheets, coming so hard his stomach muscles burned with the strain. He sobbed his brother’s name as his come kept blurting out in jabs as Dean fucked into his ass mercilessly.
“Please Dean, come in me, please! ” Sam’s tongue let loose, pleading, wanting to be full.
Dean tugged at Sam’s oversensitive cock, wrenching out a yelp as he thrust into his used hole. “Nuhuh, baby.”
Sam then clenched his ass up around Dean’s cock, gripping him as tight as he could manage, making him grunt. Despite Dean’s best intentions to hold off, Sam felt his brother’s cock throbbing and creaming him up inside, his hips stuttering. “Y-you shit!” And Sam fucked his ass back on Dean’s cock, milking out every drop, enjoying Dean swearing and spanking him again.
They stilled, catching their breath. Sam could feel every inch of his body. Alive, singing, hurting. Dean waited until he was fully soft before he pulled out. He got to work on untying Sam’s ankles and arms that were screaming with ache, though he wanted to stay like that forever.
Sam was pulled onto the bed, curled into Dean’s arms so that he was on his stomach, off of his raw ass cheeks. Dean’s plush lips peppered gentle kisses over the impressions the ropes left on his arms. Sam felt perfectly sated, fucked out, body like a puddle, not wanting to move an inch.
“It was your first time so I went easy on you, but next time, if you act out like that, I’ll have to punish you.” Dean’s hand was petting gently through Sam’s long hair.
“Pshh, oh no, not punishin’ me in a way that gets my cock rock hard,” Sam slurred against Dean’s skin, grinning.
Dean tugged a chunk of hair playfully. “Once you learn to behave, you’ll see that good boys get to come more than once.”
This shut Sam up, mind wandering to the other dirty things that were secreted away in the duffle bag. He wondered which he would end up loving. Which he would crave like he was already starting to feel about the paddle.