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Sammy's Plaything	By : aRedBaroness Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 9591 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
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Chapter 10

Sam was in the throne room reviewing the list of his to do list with concern. As much as Sam would have liked to forget his job as leader of a demon and attend to the training of his new slave, duty called. First off on his list was to send out some of his soldiers to hunt the hunters down and dispatch of them. He was considering appointing himself and maybe some flunkies to kill Gordon. Sam had a score to settle with that bastard. Gordon had crossed the brothers Winchester for the last time, his number was up. After much deliberation he decided to get his most brutal assassin to deliver Gordon to him, he could take care of him here in the regular dungeon (as opposed to his sex dungeon).

Sam used the intercom system to call his soldiers and assigned to each their target. In the end there were only about 150 or so hunters in all of America. He made it clear that he expected full reports from each demon after the kill.

He was just about to address the second item on the list when he received an order straight from head office. Sam shook his head in disbelief. There was no way he was doing this. Sam quickly added kill the Yellow Eyed demon to the top of his list and rubbed his forehead which had begun to throb.

Azazel wanted Sam to begin a complicated chain of events that would break a large number of seals and set Lucifer free. While Sam had to admit he had certainly started to embrace his evil nature there was no way in Hell he was following this command.

Yellow Eyes was a problem, a big nasty problem. Should Sam kill the demon himself, he did have the Colt, the demon had given it to him after he wasted Jake. Was the task better suited to one of the demons, one with big dreams to raise his position in the demon hierarchy. Sam remembered the old adage, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Maybe if he got it over with now, he could be back in time to dine with Dean perhaps dine off of Dean even. He fetched the Colt, grabbed some demon henchmen and stormed out of the mansion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Dean woke up after a few hours of rest he was very stiff and sore. He also found that he had woken to an empty bedroom, Sam was nowhere in sight and that relieved him a little because it took of the pressure to perform, he was still trying to get the hang of being a sex slave.

Dean got out of big canopied bed and then sat down unsure of what to do with himself. Free time wasn't really addressed in the contract, the contract had implied he wouldn't have any free time. He destested idleness so he left the bed to study the room. There was a big oak wardrobe filled with simple clothes mostly jeans, flannel shirts and t-shirts but he recalled that he wasn't supposed to wear clothing ever unless specifically directed to. There was a massive bookcase that was overflowing with books but Dean had never been much of a reader or at least that was the conclusion he reached when he found he had no desire to read any of the books.

Bored Dean walked to the floorlength mirror on the far side of the room. He stood and took stock of his injuries. There were dark purple bruises all over his body from the hickeys Sam had given him and his ass was varying shades of red interspersed with dark bruises and raised welts. He had been well and truly marked, there was no doubt as to whom he belonged.

Having exhausted the possibilities of the bedroom, Dean moved into the adjoining dungeon. Though the room was dark, lit by only a few candles he was able make out the horse and St. Andrews cross, both of which he was now intimately aquainted with as well as a whipping post, a revolving St. Andrew's cross and some shackles on the wall. There was also a sort of archway on one side of the room equipped with various hooks and rings that he supposed was intended for bondage and suspension. Steeling himself for what he might find, Dean confronted the rosewood cabinet. Inside there were paddles, canes, floggers, whips, riding crops and anything else you could beat a person with. He was disconcerted to find that the sight of these instruments of torture excited him a bit and he remembered how despite the burning sensation he had reveled in the stinging slap of the paddle. There were also drawers metal nipple clamps, rubber cock rings, vibrating gloves and sharp knives. The cupboard at the bottom of the cabinet revealed an extensive array of lubes and oils along with dildos and butt plugs of alarming porportions. There's no way that huge black one would ever fit inside me, he thought. Dean closed the cabinet satisfied that he now knew more of what lay in store for him at Sam's hands.

Dean was unsure about leaving the two rooms, he didn't have any clothes and he wasn't sure he was allowed, but he figured he would have to find the bathroom sooner or later and there had to a be a television somewhere. He walked back into the bedroom, took a deep breath and opened the door.

As Dean walked through the stone hallways he found that the silence of the house unnerved him a little, it was like a huge masoleum. He continued to explore the monster of a mansion and never once encountered another person, he did however locate the bathroom and a room with a huge flat screen TV. After relieving his bladder, Dean settled on the ridiculous velvet couch to watch some cartoons.

It was hours before Sam reappeared and Dean was quite hungry (although he had found the kitchen, he didn't want to be punished for taking food without asking) but the minute he saw Sam's face he decided not ask about dinner. There were flex of blood on Sam's cheek, his jaw was set and his face was rigid and angry. Dean didn't ask where Sam had been either, he just waited for instruction. Sam said nothing, his face softened and he kissed Dean's forehead and then began preparing dinner in silence, his face inscrutable.
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Sammy's Plaything