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Folsom Prison Bitch by sbwdf
"Sam-"
"No."
"Deacon's an old Marine buddy of Dad's." As in the sort of old buddy who'd save Dad's ass so he'd lived long enough to come home, get married, and have kids. Namely them. "We owe him."
Yeah, they did, but, "Fine. I'll do it. You're staying here," Sam said with a generic wave around the hotel room.
"What? No way!" His brother squawked. Seriously. Like some sort of honking bird. Sam might have laughed at another time. "Someone's gotta watch your back!"
"My back?" Sam gave him an incredulous look. "What about your ass?"
Dean blushed even as he scowled. All it did was emphasize how completely gorgeous the idiot was. Him in a prison would be like throwing steak to hungry lions. Lions that hadn't gotten any in a long time. "I can take care of myself."
And yeah, he could. Normally. "Dean-"
"No!" he snapped in his best 'I'm the big brother and that's final' voice. "We're both going!"
Sam had other opinions, but after two hours of shouting, he'd finally given in and followed Dean's insane plan. Everything worked like a charm. They got busted for burglary, their fake identities held and contained enough menace to get them sent to the county prison pending trial, and Deacon even managed to pull enough strings to get them assigned to the same cell so they could at least sleep without worrying.
Trouble was while a color no one rocked, the prison jumpsuit emphasized Dean's broad shoulders, narrow waist and perfect ass. Been inside and guard-free all of five minutes before the first con made his move. True to prediction, Dean handled him. And the next guy. By the sixth, he was looking a little harried and Deacon used the dust-up to get the three of them alone.
"Are you out of your mind?" he hissed at Sam. "Bringing him here?" It was obvious Deacon hadn't expected one of them to favor Mary instead of John Winchester.
Dean sputtered even if he had to be coming to terms with how quickly this day was going south. They either had to get out of here. Now. Or else. But no, people were dying and, cons or not, Dean didn't like that sort of thing, so Sam knew he wouldn't go until they had the information they needed. Sam sighed, not seeing the point of round 1,000 in this argument. "I can protect him."
More sputtering from the brother department, but Deacon gave Sam a long look, assessing all the muscle he'd put on during the last couple of years. Finally he nodded. "It'll work. Johnson's the biggest, bad who'd want him, and I think you can take the guy."
Sam nodded. He'd caught sight of the guy oogling Dean earlier. Nothing Sam couldn't handle. "The others will leave Dean alone after that?"
Deacon looked uncomfortable. "Maybe. Not many in here will respect a brother's right to protect his family."
"Do I get-"
"No!" both men snapped at Dean, and he leaned back against the wall sulking. It only made him look more fuckable.
Sam glared, then turned back to the guard. "What will they respect?"
"That he's someone else's bitch."
"Hey!"
"Shut up, Dean!" The peanut gallery dealt with, he turned his attention back to Deacon. "So he's safe if he's my bitch?" A glare kept Dean silent, but his expression looked mutinous.
"At least they'll come at you one-on-one instead of ganging up to get you out of the way, so they can take turns with him."
Dean paled and Sam instinctively reached for him, then tucked him under one arm. "So we fake sex tonight, then we get on with business."
Deacon gave him a long look, then got a tube of KY out of the storage closet. Enough said.
*
Dean hesitated, and that was really it. First he'd ignored Sam's warnings, then he'd tried to pretend nothing was wrong and now? Now the idiot was disobeying the only thing that would keep his pretty ass gang-raped free? With a snarl, he grabbed Dean by the shoulders, hauled him off the cot, then stripped away the light green pajamas covering him. Seemed only natural to drop down onto the cot, pull him over his knees, then give his squirming bare ass a hard swat.
His brother yelped, then bit his lips at a second blow. Sam smacked his ass over and over again, enjoying both the sensation of Dean writhing on his lap and the sounds of snickering from other cells. Finally, with a whimper Dean went still. Sam snatched up the tube of lube. "Pull your cheeks apart."
With a moist hitch of his breath – and damn, Sam wished the lights were on so he could see both how red Dean's ass must be and the tears glistening on his brother's pretty face – Dean reached back and did as Sam had commanded. He whimpered again at the touch of his hands to his own reddened flesh, then again as Sam's lubed finger began to probe his displayed hole. Still irritated, Sam used a generous amount of lube to avoid any tearing, but skimped enough on the stretching to know it would hurt.
Yanking Dean up, then back down onto the cot, Sam settled over him, then shoved inside with one hard thrust that made Dean's whole body rock. A loud moan escaped Dean's throat, then once again he clamped down his jaw, refusing to do more than softly groan as Sam pounded into his ass with loud wet thrusts.
"Yeah, give it to him," came from the next cell. Across the way someone snickered and encouraged Sam to 'bust his bitch's ass.' Should have made him flush with shame, but he loved the way Dean's hole clutched his cock, the soft gasps and the filthy encouragement. Figured he had an epic guilt trip in his future, but suddenly Dean stiffened then spilled, coming without either of them even touching his cock. The shock made Sam shoot as well, and wow. Never come so hard in his life. But the best thing? His 'hard as nails, no-chick-flick moments' brother, curled into his arms and went to sleep as sweet and easy as a docile kitten. Sam couldn't help thinking he could get really used to this.
*
It gave Sam time to do some snooping of his own as well as observe how other prison bitches were treated. Guards didn't seem too interested as long as pain and blood stayed out of the equation, and the better the show put on the more the other inmates left the 'happy couple' alone. Sam could work with that.
When the guards returned Dean to him, Sam ordered his brother to his knees and put those gorgeous cocksucker lips to work right in the middle of the prison yard. And what Dean seemed to lack in experience, he made up for with enthusiasm. Sam exploded down his throat within minutes, but refused to allow Dean to take care of his own erection. Instead he enjoyed the wolf whistles and catcalls Dean suffered while walking around with a hard-on tenting his jumpsuit.
*
Wolfish grins broke out on a dozen faces, then a few of the guys did some dial trolling on the radio to find a good song. "That's it," Sam smirked when the opening strands of Beyonce's Single Ladies started up. "Make it good for us, baby," he told Dean giving him a shove toward the center of the room.
Lovely green eyes huge, Dean looked at all the men staring at him, then back to Sam who did all he could to pack his scowl full of assurances of severe punishment for failure to please. Dean gulped, then started moving. An awkward shuffle at first, then he closed his eyes, and concentrated on the music.
A good dancer even if he hated doing it, Dean easily settled into the snappy beat, and began gyrating around the 'stage.' After a few lines, he toed off his shoes and socks with a series of artful hops. He flushed at the filthy encouragement offered up by his audience, but his eyes opened and his cock swelled inside his jumpsuit. His shoulders and hips moving it time, he unzipped the orange insult to even questionable taste, then let his motion shimmy it off his shoulders. A twist sent it tumbling down his legs. He stepped out of it, and into a spin that made the tip of his hard cock push out of his boxers.
His undershirt went flying next, then he timed dropping his boxers perfectly with a if you like it then you should have put a ring on it making the cons howl a few suggestions about where the ring should go. He spent the rest of the song bopping around the room, shaking his erection and ass with wanton abandon, then finished by collapsing at Sam's feet.
He'd taken Dean earlier in their cell, so Sam simply grabbed him, spun him around so everyone else could see Dean's face, then pulled him down onto his cock. Dean moaned loudly as his ass brushed against Sam's balls. "Fuck yourself," Sam ordered, his hands settling on Dean's hips.
The muscles of Dean's legs tightened and he rose up, then slammed down again, letting Sam encourage him into a hard, fast fucking that once again made him come untouched. Like a woman and earning more than a few cheers of approval. Afterwards, while everyone turned their attention to other bitches being put through their paces, Dean stayed in his lap, his naked body sprawled around Sam's legs, his hole tight enough to keep Sam inside despite having come himself. And if Sam hadn't known better he would have sworn Dean was purring.
*
He soaped his bitch up, pampering him to lull him into a sense of complacency. Even shampooed his hair, pulling the attention of their showermates to them and the air seemed to crackle with anticipation.
Once he had them both clean and rinsed off, he slammed Dean up hard against the tile wall. He smirked when his brother automatically pushed his vulnerable ass back against Sam's hard cock. Such a beautiful, responsive bitch. "Any requests before I drill him into the middle of next week?" He demanded, then added, "No sharing."
There were disappointed snarls, and it gave Sam a surge of power to think he could hand Dean off and watch him get taken again and again. He pictured it in his mind. A cock in Dean's mouth, in his ass while hungry mouths tortured his nipples. Maybe two cocks plunging into the ass, stretching those lips.
"Get his ass red, smack the shit out of it," came a husky growl to his right.
Yeah, Sam liked that. "Stick your ass out more, bitch."
Dean eased his legs backward and apart, offering up his ass without protest. Sam went to town on it, bring his had down over and over on the bare flesh until it went far beyond bright red into a deep red throb while Dean sobbed, begging him to stop but never twitching away from his punishment. Finally tired of his own hand tingling, Sam stopped.
A tube of lube fell at Sam's feet, and all thoughts of not using it vanish as someone hissed, "Make the bitch ride your fist."
Dean whimpered loudly, but somehow spread his legs even wider, and Sam picked up the tube. He covered his hand with lube, then shoved three fingers into his brother's well-used ass. Long enough to reach Dean's prostate, he made certain to hit the sweet spot several times before curling his hand enough to let his little finger join the party.
His needy bitch took it easily and soon Dean squirmed, then softly pleaded for more. Carefully, Sam applied extra lube then began to add his thumb with a slow, easy push. Dean cried out as the base breached him, and Sam could only stare for a moment at his brother's hole stretched around his wrist. "Fuck me, God, please fuck me," Dean begged, and Sam started thrusting his fist with a firm, but shallow pulse. A minute, two at the most and Dean screamed his release.
"Fuck, can't top that," someone said as Sam eased out his hand. Now he had his own release to seek.
"Still want to see his nipples bit up and swollen." Yeah, that sounded good.
He spun Dean around, seized his well-spanked ass in his hands and lifted him up. Dean cried out again, his abused flesh hot against Sam's palms, his legs wrapping around Sam's waist, and his hands clutching Sam's shoulders. He shouted again, when Sam sucked a hard nipple into his mouth, while his fingers tortured the other. Dean arched into both touches, his cock twitching, wanting to harden again against Sam's torso even as he sobbed some more as Sam roughed up the peaked flesh to the point of rawness. God, his brother was so fucking beautiful when he cried.
Unable to stand it any longer, Sam shoved his cock into Dean's hole, frowning slightly at how loose it felt. Needed to remember to fuck him before he fisted him next time, he thought, then pounded away until his come shot deep into his brother's body.
*
Neither of them said an unnecessary word during the entire time, and even though Dean had to be hurting, he didn't so much as flinch as he helped dig up the bones or when he settled in the car seat. Some days it really worried Sam how much abuse Dean could hide.
They were two states away by the time Dean finally pulled off the road and onto an access road. He got them a good quarter-mile away from the highway before he shut down the engine, then got out of the Impala as casual as if they were in a motel lot instead of the middle of nowhere.
He stood there for a few minutes staring at the stars. Finally, he said, "Can't be your prison bitch anymore, Sammy."
Sam wanted to protest, but he'd taken things much further than he should have even in the most extreme 'prove they were sex partners' situation. "All right."
Dean reached up, unzipped his jeans, then pushed them and his boxers down to his knees. "Doesn't mean I still can't be your bitch," he said, resting his torso against the car's trunk.
Sam wasted no time getting his own jeans unzipped and his cock embedded in the offered ass. As he pounded into the paradise he'd feared he'd never feel again, he made Dean a lot of promises – to take him hard, fast and often, to use him, to punish him, to fuck him in public whenever they could remotely get away with it, and every other filthy thing he could think of.
The words alone seemed to make Dean come, then lay there, wrecked while Sam finished plundering him.
Sam zipped back up, then turned Dean around.
His brother's eyes dropped almost demurely, then Dean kissed him for the first time. Then he whispered, "Sounds like a plan."
end