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Manipulation	By : unrequited666 Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 7625 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Warnings: bdsm, dark, non-con, sam whumping, slave,
supernatural, violence, wincest (unrequited). Don�t like? Don�t read! No
flamers!

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Chapter Seven

As soon as Chris laid him down and moved towards the headboard to
secure his hands, Sam struck. Swivelling around on the bed, long legs lashed
out, clipping Chris across the head. Chris went down with a grunt.

Not knowing how much damage he'd caused � the panicked urge for
flight overpowering the better sense to ensure he had incapacitated his captor
� Sam bolted towards the door.

He'd almost made it when Chris caught him by the leg. Sam fell to
the floor with a thud. He immediately tried to rise but Chris pounced, dragging
him back to the floor. Sam shifted so he was lying face up, receiving a blow to
his cheek for his efforts.

Chris clearly had the advantage; he was on top, he was heavier, and
he wasn't drugged to his eyeballs. But Sam had been taught to turn every
disadvantage to an advantage. Ignoring the slightly dazed feeling from the
blow, he worked his right leg between Chris�, bringing his knee up hard. Chris
doubled over, releasing Sam from his iron grip, and Sam scrambled to his feet,
all thoughts now focused on the door to freedom.

�You go through that door and I will do to countless others what I
did to that cabin owner.��

Chris� words froze Sam in his tracks; he turned with a sinking
feeling to see Chris slowly rising from the floor.

�I think I�ll start with that nice young family who owns this hotel.
I heard it�s the daughter�s fifth birthday tomorrow.�

�No,� Sam pleaded.

�And it�ll
all be on you." Chris� smile turned sly. "But I suppose it fits,
doesn�t it? I mean, Mummy died because of you, then you got Jessica and Daddy
killed. Oh, and then there was Madison.�

�Stop it,�
Sam whispered, bile rising in the back of his throat.

Chris ignored him. �Everyone around you dies, don�t they? Well�
except for Dean. I supposed he�s been lucky, being able to get away from you.�

Looks it�s hard to explain�
it�s just that when people are around me� I don�t know, they get hurt.

What do you mean?

I mean, like, physically
hurt. With what my brother and I do, its � Sarah� I had a girlfriend. And she
died. And my mum died, too. I don�t know, it�s like� it�s like I�m cursed or
something � like death just follows me around.

�I think I�ll go get my knife now.�

Sam sank to his knees, defeated. There was no choice, not really. He
couldn�t allow more innocent lives to be lost because of him.

Sam had lost his opportunity to escape; he knew he wouldn't get
another chance, knew that Chris keep him under tighter wraps from now on. So
Sam would put his faith in Dean, his brother was the only person who could help
him now.

He suddenly became aware that Chris was moving towards him. He shot
to his feet, frightened by the palpable fury on Chris� face. Sam didn�t even
know he�d been backing away until his back hit the wall. He also realised that
he was shaking.

Chris placed his hands against the wall on either side of Sam,
effectively trapping him between his arms.

�I � � I what? I�m sorry? What could Sam say to get Chris to stop?
Nothing had worked in the past.

Chris moved one of his hands to cup Sam�s face, softly stroking with
his thumb.

Without warning, Chris slapped him. Before Sam had time to do
anything but yelp in surprise, a flurry of punches rained down on him. He
brought his hands up to protect his face, but the gesture only served to
further infuriate Chris, who hit Sam even harder.

A few minutes later, Chris was pinning Sam to the ground, face down,
with one arm twisted behind him as he put his knee on Sam�s back. He slammed
Sam�s head on the floor one last time, before hoisting him up and throwing him
onto the bed.�

Producing his pocket knife, he joined Sam on the bed. The knife was
still stained with the cabin owner�s blood. �You see this Sammy? This is what
I�m capable of. You try to leave me again, it goes straight into the next
person I see. Do you understand me?�

�Y-yes� ma-master.� Sam answered, remembering just in time to add
the last word.

Chris used the blade to caress Sam�s cheek. �You know you want this,
so why fight it so hard?�

Sam didn�t answer, and it appeared Chris wasn�t expecting one.

***

Chris threw the knife aside and stripped, eyes glittering with lust.
Manoeuvring Sam so that he was on his hands and knees and shuddering, Chris
brought Sam�s head down, guiding it towards his eager dick. Pre-come was
already leaking as he pushed into the boy�s mouth and he gagged prettily as the
cock slid in deeper and deeper. Chris kept his hands twisted in the boy's hair,
keeping Sam in place when he tried to pull back.

Angry that Sam had tried something so predictable, Chris pushed even
further down his throat, dick gently massaged by Sam�s gag reflex as he
struggled to breathe. He worked Sam�s mouth relentlessly, enjoying the wet feel
around his member. Until� finally, he jettisoned his load into Sam�s unwilling
mouth.

�Swallow it.� Chris ordered.

Sam complied, but didn�t catch it all as some dribbled down his chin
and onto the bed sheets below. Chris let it go as Sammy collapsed against him
in exhaustion.

�Uh-uh Sammy, you can�t go to sleep yet.�

Sam opened glazed eyes, watching as Chris bound him tightly to the
headboard. Chris stepped back and watched closely for Sam�s reaction while he
struck a match. He moved back over to the bed and lit the candle, allowing it
to burn for a few short moments before tipping it onto Sam�s stomach and chest.

Sam made a funny sound, something halfway between a whimper and a
gasp.

Chris decided he liked it.

He again tipped the candle, this time over Sam�s groin � the sound
was louder this time.

�Please stop.�

Chris was angry. �I�ve told you the rules Sammy. But you just can�t
seem to take them in.�

He left the bed; giving Sam�s limp cock a squeeze and promising to
be right back, returning moments later with a whip in his hand.

�Gonna mark you now Sammy. Make sure you remember who you belong
to.�

He swung the whip down viciously, again and again. Sam cried out
beautifully for each of the ten lashes laid across his chest, his legs and his
stomach. Chris watched each welt appear with lust twisting hotly in his gut;
those were his marks on that gorgeous
caramel skin. Each strike made him harder and harder.

Chris threw the whip aside, but the fun wasn�t over yet. He forced
Sam�s legs apart as wide as they could go, and Chris breached him, dry and
unprepared. Sam�s scream was immediate as the thick phallus thrust into him so
hard that he was lifted off the bed.

***

Thrust. �You belong to me.�

Thrust. �I own you�

Thrust. �You are my property, my pet, my slave.�

Thrust. �Your body belongs to me.�

As the litany continued, Sam tried to distance himself from what was
happening to his body, but he couldn�t. Pain upon pain, agony upon agony.
Screams were torn from his throat until his voice became hoarse. And through it
all was Chris� voice; telling Sam that he was nothing . . . that he was a slave
. . . that he belonged to Chris . . . that he was to obey Chris without
question.

Finally, something new filtered through Sam�s ears. �You�ve done it
to yourself� this is your fault� you�ll never do that again, right?�

The damn finally broke and Sam�s tears leaked out. �I won�t. I
promise I won�t. I�m sorry. I�m sorry. Stop, it hurts. Stop, STOP!�

Sam didn�t even know what he was saying� anything to make Chris stop.

***

Chris had always hated tears, but Sam�s tears? They weren�t so bad.
They told him he was making progress, and every moan of pain, every gasp, every
twitch of Sam�s beautiful body urged him on.

�You want this Sammy.�

�Please.�

�Tell me you want this,� Chris said as he gave Sam�s nipples a sharp
squeeze.

Sam�s eyes were so pretty like that, all shiny-wet with tears.

�I want this,� he choked out.

�That�s my boy.� Chris stopped thrusting, tenderly brushing his
hands over Sam�s face, drying his tears. �My poor Sammy, this is for your own
good.�

Sam�s only response was a pained sob.

Chris watched for it, the moment Sam relaxed, let himself think this
was over � that was when Chris drove his dick forward hard, lifting Sam�s hips
clear off the bed.
***

Sam cried out again at the harsh invasion, but was silenced when
lips gently took his own. A few seconds later, a hand grabbed his cock,
alternating between squeezing and twisting.

Then it stopped as soft butterfly kisses were being laid along his
neck, and a hand lightly stroked through his hair. Sam took what little comfort
he could from it before . . .

Chris bit into his neck, accompanied by another hard thrust.

Pain. Comfort. Pain. Comfort. The cycle continued until Sam couldn�t
take it anymore.

When the thrusting eased again, Sam noticed that Chris was looking
at him thoughtfully.

�You know Sam,� he said slowly, after a moment�s pause, �you have an
amazing ass. It�s so sweet, so hot. And I got to taste it first. Do you know
how jealous your brother is about that?�

Sam looked at him through a haze of tears, the words making no sense
in his confused state.

�Oh yes, your brother wants to fuck you as much as I do. Didn�t you
know?�

Chris� words finally registered, but . . . to be tortured like this,
and then told that his only hope was as sick as the deranged man raping him now
� it was too much for Sam�s broken mind to bear. �No, you�re lying. You�re lying!� He screeched, emotions
overwhelming him.

Sam tried to lift himself up, to attack the person maligning his
brother, to do something, anything,
but his feeble attempt to hurt his assailant did nothing but infuriate the man.

***

Freeing his member from Sam�s body, Chris leaned over the bed and
scooped up the whip again, bringing it down as hard as he could. Again and
again he let out his frustrations on the boy who continually defied him at
every turn.

It was a while before Chris realised that his charge was silent,
that the weak cries of pain had stopped completely.

�Sammy?�

The boy was a bleeding mess, but his eyes were still open; wide and
unseeing.

It scared Chris.

�Oh God, I�m sorry. I�m sorry, I didn�t mean� Baby, hold on okay,
I�ll look after you. I promise��

Sam drifted in and out as gentle and apologetic hands tended to him,
cleaning his wounds and bandaging them, all the while making soothing noises
and apologising to him for hurting him.

Chris could tell that Sam heard him, and that some part of the boy
believed he was sincere, truly repentant. Once he had finished doctoring Sam,
Chris pulled the blankets up, and tucked Sam in, running his fingers through
Sam�s hair.

I�ll have to give him time
to recover Chris realised.

He was seriously beginning to regret letting his temper get the
better of him now. With Sammy injured, they wouldn�t be able to�

Chris was about to turn off the lights before he finally remembered,
and a sneaky grin stole across his face.
```
 
```
TBC

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Manipulation