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Too Pretty to Be a Hunter

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It’d started as a normal hunt: some dead virgins, slaughtered cows… So clearly a demon. Dean had gone on his own to take care of it, not wanting Sammy to get involved because of the stuff with Gadreel in him. And now here he was tied to a table, naked.

Abaddon had gotten him, knocked him out by strangling him, which left his neck sore, and now he was in some abandoned basement somewhere, the room dusty and damp, and fitting the perfect description of pretty much any horror movie, all lit by one hanging bulb of some ridiculously low wattage: creaky, old floorboards, dark gray stone walls that had maybe had blood and dirt smeared on them at one point, stains from unwelcome things growing on them in the pattern of dripping water. There were rickety old stairs with railings threatening to fall off to the left of him, and he could see the door. The sweet, sweet door, light trickling through the bottom, his escape. But there was no escape. He was cold, exposed, and the complete opposite of happy with the way he was tied up. Dean had seen enough pornos to know what this bitch was up to. There was a leather collar on his neck with a metal loop on it, ropes that wrapped around his knees running through it, holding them up, and more ropes were around his knees, connected to the table, leaving his legs up and spread wide. Ropes were on his wrists and his arms to keep him from moving too much. There was a table next to him as well, this one smaller, holding different devices on them, and Dean couldn’t bring himself to look at them all without bile filling his mouth. Abaddon walked around him, hands trailing over his body, making his heart skip a few beats.

“Hey, not to be rude or anything, but can we skip the porn and get right to the torture?” he asked, hating how his voice barely came out.

God, why had he been so stupid?

He’d known Abaddon wanted him, and now here he was. Her red-painted nails trailed over his anti-possession tattoo, Dean lifting his head up to watch, nervous that she was going to burn it off of him and get inside him.

“Oh, sweetie, I don’t want to torture you.”

“Oh well, glad we’re on the same page. Wanna let me go?”

She leaned down, leather jacket opening and showing him her low-cut shirt. He’d expected the normal one she usually wore that said “ The Devil Made Me Do It ”, but now it was just black, almost in the design of a corset.

Wow, she really went all out for this.

A hand stroked through his hair, quickening his pulse, and Dean tried yanking away from her, but couldn’t move. She laughed, making his blood run cold.

“I want your body.”

“Get in line,” he spat. There had to be a line. It wasn’t uncommon for monsters and demons to show their interest in him. Abaddon wasn’t the first, and she wouldn’t be the last.

“Mm, no, think I’ll have my fun with you while I can. I’m a busy girl, you know. Trying to overthrow Crowley isn’t easy.”

“Yeah, he’s a real dick.”

She laughed again, and bit at his ear, making Dean squeeze his eyes shut and try to turn his head away from her, but she bit down harder. The spark of sensation ran through his body, down in between his legs, and he groaned in discontent. One of her fingers ran over and over his tattoo, circling, touch so light it burned pleasantly, and he felt his nipples hardening.


“But everyone needs a break now and then, so I thought I’d lure you here, and then work you over nice and good. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds dandy if rape’s your thing.”

She pulled back, eyes turning black for just as a second as she smiled, and began removing her leather jacket to bare her arms and her shoulders, breasts a little too mesmerizing for someone who wanted to hurt him.

“Honey, I’m a demon. Rape’s what we do.”

“Good,” he muttered out, terrified, not even sure how he was still talking. “Got a real strong moral compass there.”

But god, why did she have to look good when she had plans to hurt him? Tight, black jeans, high-heeled boots, red, red lips, and that fiery hair. It just wasn’t fair.

Noticing his stare she asked, “Hmm, you like this body, Dean?”

Instead of denying it, he admitted, cheeks flushing, “Sure, it’s sexy.” But then he added on, “It’s real hot taking stuff that doesn’t belong to you.”

“That’s the fun part.”

Abaddon placed one hand next to his head, leaning on it, and with the other she scraped her nails down his body till she got to his cock.

There was an ache in his throat, nausea in his stomach, when he felt her begin to work at him, but he tilted his head back, growling at her, baring his teeth.

“Get your hand off me.”

“Or what? You’re gonna kill me, Mr. Hunter? Sweetie, you tried that already.” She pinched his cheek and then lightly slapped him. “You look cute when you’re angry.”

Dean was straining to close his legs, eyes locked on her, as he felt himself thickening. There wasn’t time for shame, wasn’t time for hurt. Fear was pumping through him, and the sweet bite of arousal took over his blood.

Just gotta get through this, he told himself. Just gotta get through this. I’m sure lots of hunters have gotten raped.

Yeah, that could work, telling himself that. Demons were demons. Of course they were rapists.

But god, it didn’t make this any easier, didn’t stop his cheeks from flushing, or make him stop tugging at his restraints, the coarse ropes making his skin sting and chafe.

“What, Dean Winchester? Haven’t been with a demon before?”

“Abaddon, stop .”

She glanced at his growing erection, Dean swallowing roughly from how filled he was, from the rough slide of her hand, and she smiled, shaking her head.

“No, looks like we’re just getting started.

“Look, torture me all you want, okay? Just… Just not this. Please, not this.”

“Why? You scared of sex?”

“It ain’t sex and you know it,” he snarled. She squeezed, and then shifted over, other hand going to his balls to tug lightly, and Dean cried, “ Fuck . No, just stop! Please!” A groan left him and she seemed cruelly delighted. “Fuck, stop it!

“Say my name.”

“Abaddon,” he whined.

“Louder!” she commanded, and then she released his balls, slapping his thighs over and over, alternating, burning, and he strained to close his legs, body quivering, but they remained open, pulling on the ropes and the collar so tightly that it made him ache.

“Abaddon, stop!”

Her nails dug into his thigh, making him gasp, but her hand never left his cock, now being slow with him.

“Mm, you sound good screaming my name,” she purred. “You know how I said I’m gonna blow smoke up your ass? Well, there are other things I want to do to it too, same with this lovely dick of yours. I want to put things in you.”

“Ever heard of stabbing?” Dean joked, sure he’d prefer that over what she was insinuating. He’d been stabbed before, he could handle it, but this, this he could not. It was all very new to him. “Sure you’ll get the same benefits.”

“No torture, remember?”

“Uh huh, ‘cause it’s not like this isn’t torture or anything.”

“It’s not torture if you like it, and I think this says you do.” She went at him more roughly now, and then bent over to spit on him. “Got you all nice and hard, so now I can play with you.”

Her thumb stroked over and over his frenulum and it was all he could focus on, breaths coming in pants, sweat breaking out on his skin, chest reddening.

“Yeah, well, I don’t play nice,” he argued once he managed to get in a deep enough breath.

“So you got a bite with that bark, too?”

“Sweetie, I’d love to bite you. Maybe rip off your ear or something.”

“You’re too cute.”

She stopped stroking him, but now he was hard and burning, and he wanted to whine. Dean couldn’t figure out if he wanted his legs opened wider, or if closing them would be nice. His body was moaning yes, pleading, and the rest of him was still trying to catch up and realize what was happening.

“I only take pretty vessels, you know,” she told him, one hand holding his face in a bruising grip, the other caressing, fingers going to his lips. He snarled at her, attempting to pull away, but it was no use. “And you’re as pretty as they come. Imagine the fun we could have together. All the sex we could have in your head, the women I’d get you to put that nicely sized dick into… and men. Or would you like it the other way, like having a nice, fat dick up your ass?”

“You’re not getting me,” he growled once she pulled away, but she was staring at his lips now, eyes dark and wanting. He’d seen that look too many times, had even seen it from humans. To challenge her he lifted his head up, parting his lips and running his tongue along the bottom one slowly. “You wanna kiss me? Just get it over with.”

“It’s tempting, but now you’re expecting it.”

She slapped his cheek, the blow only stinging a little, but he bared his teeth at her nonetheless, growling. The demon rounded his head now, going to the table that was to his right, and he closed his eyes, trying to take deep breaths, but he only got in a few before they came out as pants, feeling like he was going to be sick. There were clinks, the sounds of Abaddon running her fingers over things, maybe choosing what she wanted to use, and god, Dean wanted to look, but he just couldn’t.

“Hey, sweetie, not to be a buzzkill or anything,” he began, swallowing the extra saliva building up in his mouth, “but if this isn’t torture what’s up with all the toys?”

“Come on, Dean. Sex can be more than just two bodies. I’m sure you know that. I’ve heard that you’re pretty kinky.”

“Yeah, with consent .”

She giggled, and even with his eyes closed he saw stars, and the urge to strangle her overcame him.

“So overrated. I find no much sexier than yes . All that violence to it? Mm .”

“Great. You’re insane.”

“Maybe. But I like it.”

Dean started, fire and ice raging through him, when Abaddon grabbed him in between his legs, and then he felt rope. Oh god, she was tying up his balls - something Dean had done before, but-

He grunted, legs twitching. He’d never had it this tight before. She tugged once the knot was tied, and then smacked him lightly, the added pressure making him that much more sensitive. His cock twitched in response, and he could picture the smile on her face, teeth showing between her red lips. She put the thin rope around the base of his cock too, tightening it till his toes were curling, and he was groaning.

When he felt even more rope against him in between his legs he shouted, exasperated and frighted, “Oh, come on!”

“Not done yet, sweetheart.”

“What, you doin’ a little art project?”

“Something like that.”

This rope wrapped around him just beneath the head of his cock, and he moaned from feeling it rub against his frenulum before the pressure was applied. Morbidly curious, Dean opened his eyes and looked down. The ropes were a vibrant red, and his cock, which was already aching, seemed to have swelled and hardened even more from this treatment. Sure, he could see the appeal in this if he’d consented to it, was with someone he actually had the hots for and not one of his enemies, but the fact that she was doing this because she could was sickening. Dean had a horrible feeling that she was just starting out.

His eyes drifted to the table for a second, and he saw metal things. A shudder claimed his body, and he closed his eyes again, not able to handle it.

“Nice job,” he forced out, trying to distract himself. “Ever consider becoming a full-time dom? I’m sure the subs’ll go crazy for your bondage work.”

“I have a sub right here.”

Dean blushed, and argued, even as she ran her hands over him - his balls, his cock - “Honey, you’re wrong.”

“Sure, you like to play Mr. Tough Guy, like everyone to think you’re the one shoving people against walls just to get off, but you want nothing more than for someone to take charge of this body of yours. I can do that.”

“So is that your pitch? Think I’ll give myself over ‘cause you’re some irresistible dom and I’m a sub who couldn’t help himself?”

“I could just take you.”

She squeezed hard, right at the head, and heat flushed through him so violently he grew dizzy, and he moaned loudly.

“Th-then… Then why… don’t you? Fuck!

She was running her thumb over his slit now, coaxing precum from him, the sensation jolting up from beneath his balls and somehow sparking its way up into his stomach.

“A girl’s gotta have her fun. Besides, I kind of like my current vessel. She’s sexy, isn’t she, Dean? Not alive anymore, of course, which means, these things I’m feeling right now, looking at you, that’s all me.”

“Oh, so you get wet from hurting people?”

She leaned over him, and licked at his abdomen as she stroked and squeezed, before responding, voice low, driving home how very screwed Dean was, “You wouldn’t believe the things that make me wet.” Without his consent, his cock twitched and throbbed at her words, and another pleased laugh left her. “Oh, you like this, this talk of me being turned on? You want me, Dean? You’re not gonna get me, but I’d fuck you real hard, ride this dick of yours till you beg me to stop. I’m all hot inside, and soft.” Her words sent that jolt through him again, slicking up the head of his cock, and he groaned. God, that’d be nice. It’d be nice to give in to all of this, pretend she was just some insanely hot waitress he’d picked up at a bar or something. Abaddon was hot, really hot, with that gorgeous red hair, and legs that went on for miles, and perfect curves, and creamy skin, and the way she touched him… God, why couldn’t he just pretend? Maybe he could force himself. But Dean got taken right out of it when she went on, “Yeah, you want to be in me?”

“Not particularly,” he got out, words feeling partially like a lie.

How could he not want it when his body was aching from her, when he was so filled and just needed release?

But he didn’t.

But, maybe…


No, he didn’t.


This was wrong .

“God, please stop,” he choked out.

“Honey, I haven’t even gotten to the good stuff.”

Dean screamed at her, and pulled hard at the ropes until they dug into his skin, made his body sore, and tugged at the collar and choked him. Long seconds passed, his struggles futile, before he rested himself back down, breathing hard, sweating, on the verge of letting his voice loose once more.

Abaddon released him, and Dean couldn’t stand not knowing what she was doing, so he watched once she grabbed his cock again, an opened bottle of lube in her other hand. She was dripping it onto his head, rubbing it in, and the ropes enhanced the sensation, pressing his nerves together, making the tingles run all the way down into his legs, and he couldn’t breathe. Then she did something unusual, placing the end of the lube - which was warming up on his already heated skin - at his slit and squeezing it into him. Dean tossed his head back, letting out a swear, back arching, trying to close his legs again.

She did it till it was dripping out of him, and he felt it in him, warm, wet, and so very odd.

“Oh, what the fuck ?”

She seemed to finish up with putting lube on him, and Dean’s cock kept hardening, twitching, even without any touch, and he lay there groaning, terrified about what was about to happen to him. Abaddon seemed to be putting lube on something else, and then she was away from the table with the devices and on his left.

“Wh-what’s that?” Dean asked, mouth dry, when he saw her holding something long and metallic. It was ridged with a bulbous end, and it seemed hollow, but was thicker than her pinky finger.

“Just a little something I thought you might like. I did consider starting you out with a normal sounding rod, but that’s too boring, so I decided to skip right to the good stuff. This is a penis plug. Unusually long for a penis plug, but nice and thick for one.”

“Uh, where’s that going?”

“I think you know,” she responded, tapping his slit, which just made him twitch even more as pleasure plunged through him.

“Oh god.” Abaddon grabbed him, and started bringing the plug closer to him. “Abaddon, no, no, don’t, don’t! No, no, no! Abaddon! Agh!

The large end was being inserted into the tip of his cock, and the sensation burned through him, his nerves searing from the new, unusual feeling, and fuck, it hurt. It was too big.

He tried to hold back a scream as she slowly pressed the tip into him, but it got wider, and wider, too wide, spreading him apart, and god, it was getting deeper. God damn it, he was pretty sure nothing was supposed to go in there.

“God, fucking stop! Please!”

She pulled it out of him, squeezed the head of his cock, making him cry out, and then she was placing it in him again. Abaddon essentially fucked him with it, going deeper and deeper each time, getting past the bulbous end, till the ridges were getting inserted, and he was trembling, toes curling, hands clenched into fists, nails digging crescents into his palms, knuckles white. He thought he was going to pass out when it was in him all the way, just the little ring on the end for her to pull on sticking out. Dean felt full to bursting, beyond that, sore in a way he’d never been before, and burning . But when she began to pump him he felt pleasure in a whole new way, nerves hypersensitive, flesh pressing against the plug in him, and his voice couldn’t stop leaving him. She talked through it, taunting him, asking him if he liked it, and after awhile, she quit stroking him to fuck him with it, not starting out slow.

She got it deep in him and wiggled it around, and Dean felt hot and wet inside, and there was a liquid warmth, like he was going to cum. His aching balls were slapped, endorphins and adrenaline bursting in his brain to battle the pain that stabbed up into his stomach, and something akin to a sob left him. Then her hand went lower, pressing hard against his perineum, pleasure arcing up into his cock in brilliant white.

It was a familiar sensation, but with the ropes and the plug in him everything was increased tenfold, driving him insane. Dean was starting to want to break out of these ropes just so he could see if he could fuck her to death, or at least make her hurt. He wasn’t a violent lover, not like Sam, liked to be on the receiving end, but with an enemy? God, he’d love to slam her against the wooden floor and fuck her bloody, make her scream and wish she could smoke out. This was no longer about sex in Dean’s head. It was about violence: painful, exquisite violence.

Her hands left him, the plug remaining, leaving pressure on the inside of him that had him groaning, and then she was putting lube on him again. It was his rim this time, and Dean tried to shy away.

“Never had anything in your ass before? Don’t be such a baby.”

As a matter of fact he had, but that didn’t mean he wanted her in there. Besides, he couldn’t even handle the plug in him. Why be filled with something else as well?

“Pretty sure you asking about my past sexual experiences counts as sexual harassment.”

Dean stiffened, trying to retreat from her, when he felt her curious fingers at his rim; there was a passing thought that her nails would claw him inside.

“Aw, baby, we’re way beyond sexual harassment. Or would you like some more?”

He grunted when she began to rub circles into him, her other hand still pressing hard at his perineum, massaging, and his voice was a deep gravel when he answered, “Nope. No, I’m good. Gotten enough of it all my life, you know?”

“Why, ‘cause you’re pretty? Do all the monsters want to fuck you, Dean? Want to use your pretty mouth, and this pretty hole?” For emphasis she slid a finger into him, and he couldn’t relax, so it burned, and he found himself whining. “Or do humans do, too? Bet they do. You’re too pretty to be a hunter. Bet you could quit right now, start making money selling yourself.”

“Been there, done that,” he gasped, not even sure why he was engaging her in conversation anymore.

That was a part of Dean’s life he didn’t want to talk about. Dad hadn’t always left him with enough money to take care of Sammy. He’d started it soon after his first kiss. Hadn’t been a hard thing to realize he could do. Lots of his dad’s friends told him how pretty he was when his dad wasn’t around, told him the things they’d like to do to his mouth, or what they’d like to leave on his face. He’d needed money one night, so he’d done it. And then he’d kept doing it. The world was evil outside of the monsters so it wasn’t too hard to find people who would pay for a good-looking teenage boy with perfectly chiseled features and plump lips and muscles.

Abaddon laughed at this new information, forced her way in deeper, making Dean tug uselessly at his bonds.

“So you do know how gorgeous you are, huh? Did you like getting used? Bet you got off to selling yourself, making money off this gorgeous ass.”

“Abaddon, shut it.”

“Hmm, no.” She worked at him a little more, a choked sound coming from Dean’s throat from the pain, and Abaddon breathed, “Relax, baby. Relax. Just pretend I’m one of your customers.”

“You gonna pay me?”

“I’ll pay you by letting you go.”

“Oh, fun. You know, I was hoping for a little cash. Thought I might as well get compensated for getting brutally violated, you know?”

She removed her fingers from him, and spanked him at his words, ass stinging, and he yelped.

“Shut up. You know you like this.”

“Oh yeah, love gettin’ weird things put in me.”

Abaddon had been crouching to get a better look at him, but now she rose to her full height, heels clicking as she came to stand by his head. Her hand was on the ring sticking out of his cock, and she pulled, before pushing it back in again. Dean’s breaths were shuddering, voice leaking out of him.

The demon leaned down, mouth near his, hair brushing against his chest, tickling his sensitive skin pleasantly.

“You’re starting to annoy me.”

And then her lips were pressed against his. Dean wanted to pull away, but he feared what would happen if he did, and it didn’t help that she started to fuck him harder with the oddly shaped plug, so he groaned deeply, and he kissed back, mouth wide open for her. She licked her tongue into him, moaning with pleasure, and then she was leaning against him, breasts resting on his naked body, and Dean found himself yearning, yearning to squeeze them, to bite at her nipples, to hurt, to have her till he couldn’t anymore, just to get her to stop all this. She pressed down against the plug hard till he was crying out into her mouth, unable to kiss back, and her tongue was reaching deep. She wiggled it in him, twisting it, ridges running along the inside of his flesh till he was sure he was swelling up, and he was pulsing with agonizing need, and there was that heat trickling through him, all the way to his fingers and toes, causing his stomach to flip, and making him light-headed. He left his lips parted when Abaddon pulled away, breathing heavily, and she sensually licked his lips now, tongue slow and purposeful, causing trembles to run through his wanting body.

“You gonna be quiet?” she asked.

“Probably not,” he responded honestly.

She pumped his cock now, and he grit his teeth, tossing his head back, which pulled at the collar.

“Then you leave me no choice. You’re cute, Dean. Real cute, but you’re getting on my nerves.”

Dean wanted to shrug, show that he didn’t care about what she was going to do. He’d been gagged before, no big deal, right? But what she held up when she went over to the table was certainly a big deal. Okay, yeah, he’d had things in his mouth before, and it probably wasn’t the biggest, but a dildo gag ? Really?

An anxious smile made its way onto his face, and words started pouring out of his mouth, “Y-yeah, really, you don’t need to do that. I’ll shut up. Promise. Zip it, lock it, that whole deal. Even throw away the key, you know?” But she still started securing the straps around his head, Dean struggling the whole time. “Oh, come on! Please, no! Fuck! Fuck!

Realizing that talking now wouldn’t save him, he clamped his mouth shut, felt the black silicone pressing against his lips, and he was screaming through his closed mouth. Abaddon held his nose.

Dean held his breath for a long while, chest heaving and aching, lungs pounding, and he started seeing black spots in his vision.

“Baby, come on. Humans need air. Just give in. I’m not gonna kill you. You know you’re going to lose eventually.”

Dean glared at her, and that at least made it somewhat easier to ignore the large, rounded tip against his lips, and the fact that it was connected to a few more inches of thickness that was going to probably reach into his throat. He liked his throat, liked having it all to himself. She pinched harder, nails putting indents, stinging, his eyes watering, and he could feel all of him begging for air.

There was a sinking sensation in Dean’s stomach the moment right before he lost. He wasn’t even given time to suck air in, mouth opening wide, lungs attempting to gasp for breath, throat getting assaulted with the gag, and it was named correctly, seeing as he did gag, choking. His head was pounding, blood rushing through him so fiercely he felt fuzzy, he lost his vision, and then everything in him seemed to drop, body going hot and cold and tingly.

Time slipped away from him.

Dean was choking when he came to, saliva dribbling around his mouth, dripping down from his chin and jaw, to his neck, even going around to his ear. His body was straining at the ropes, cock still raging hard, plug searing within him, and the straps for the gag had been secured around the back of his head. Abaddon gave him a smile that could only be described as sadistic, eyes glinting cruelly before turning black for a second or two, and then she went back to work on his ass. Dean tried to scream around the gag, but it was choking him, so he had to focus all his attention on staying calm - not easy to do with two things in him now, and a demon trying to get in his ass. His eyes rolled back in his head, a moan leaving him from deep in his chest when she slid two of her fingers into him, and apparently trying to relax his throat meant all of him was relaxed, so it didn’t hurt this time. Her nails did scrape, but the roughness wired him, his erection throbbing, warmth pooling at the base of his spine and his pelvis, before gushing up and out, cock wettening even more.

“Look at you, all excited about getting your holes stuffed.”

To Dean’s dismay she worked on widening him, and he carefully moved his head to the side, gagging at the feel of the dildo in his throat, to take in what else she had on the table. There was another dildo there, this one unbelievably massive, and he wished he hadn’t looked at it. He laid his head back down, eyes wide.

“It’s alright, sweetie,” she crooned. “You’re gonna feel real good.”

Since when do demons care about how good someone feels?

Firing the question off at her would be fun, but his mouth was filled, and he simply groaned.

Apparently getting choked by a dildo was a turn-on for him because he felt each touch so much more, like her fingers were digging down into his flesh, caressing his nerves and filling them with radiant heat. When Abaddon seemed satisfied with his ass, almost hitting his prostate, she grabbed a cock ring, and a little remote. The cock ring was almost too tight, but he didn’t care once she twisted a dial on the remote and it began to vibrate, shaking down to his core, cock straining, and rim now throbbing with neglect. Abaddon flicked the head of his cock repeatedly, making him scream, as her fingers went in and out of him, continuing to widen him till she was nearly fisting him.

It was when she fucked him with the plug and found his swollen, yearning prostate that his orgasm hit him, bliss exploding from in between his legs, and pumping out of him in brilliant, ropy spurts. Thank god for the plug being hollow, allowing him to cum, and he kept cumming, getting it on her, himself, the plug, the cock ring; her hand milking him dry, till his balls were aching and he swore he was going to turn inside out.

Muffled, guttural screams left him, body straining, abused cock red and swollen, and begging for it to end. Pain infused the pleasure, every part of him so sensitive it was as if his nerves had been dipped in the hottest fires in Hell. Tears fell from the corners of his eyes, and he felt so much he actually wanted someone to chop off everything in between his legs. Chop it all off and put him out of his misery. The vibrations ate his flesh, hungry, teeth sharp and merciless, and the plug stabbed like a knife from hot coals. And her hand, oh fuck, her hand was going all the way into him now, making a fist, knuckles rubbing against one of the many parts of his body that wanted to be done with all this.

She fucked him with her fist now, movements imprecise and thirsty for his suffering, his reactions, and she yelled through it, telling him how gorgeous he looked all spread open, cock abused, and lips around a dildo, that he was too pretty to be a hunter.

Dean was full in nearly every way he could be, and that sensation increased when the overstimulation passed into pure, sizzling lust that had him crying out through the gag. His body was ready for more, more of this perfect and horrible torture.

So much of him was drowning in disappointment when she pulled her hand out of him, and wiped it off on a towel, and then switched the dial off so that the cock ring stopped vibrating. Dean took this opportunity to try and get his breathing under control, but Abaddon was just grabbing more tools.

“I realize I’ve been neglecting a very important part of you, Dean.”

Dean did his best to look irritated and snarky - not easy to do with his mouth spread wide, but he at least lowered his brows, eyes widening.

What? he wanted to shout at her. My autonomy? My thoughts? My mind? My consent? Or are you realizing nipples are fun too?

And apparently it was the last one because after rubbing her hands over him, sparking pleasure down into his gut that had him moaning, she was attaching metal clamps to his nipples. They weren’t connected to each other with chain links like he’d seen in a lot of pornos, but there were loops on the end, so he wondered what else she had in store for him. It stung, and ached, and god, he loved it, legs opening a tad wider, body arching up as much as it could. Abaddon tugged at the clamps lightly, laughing at his reactions, which dug shame into his stomach until he felt like he was going to be sick.

She pat his chest, telling him, “You stay there, darling. I have to go fetch a few things.”

After she left up the rickety stairs towards his left, latching the door on her way out, Dean mimicked as best he could (without gagging himself) the intonation in which she’d said it, thinking it sarcastically, You stay there, darling .

Yeah, as if I can move, bitch.

His head continued to think up insults in her absence. They weren’t very creative, and it only fueled the fire in his blood, cock twitching, ass throbbing with neglect.




Usually Dean didn’t like that last one, but she was basically Lucifer’s bitch, and she had him trussed up like some damn slave in a sex dungeon. As far as he was concerned, he could call her whatever he wanted.

And then with her absence came the urge for her to come back.

Not so she could satisfy him, but so he could rape her.

God, that’d be nice. Get out of these ropes that’d she’d fucking secured so efficiently and intricately, rip off the collar, take out all the damn things she’d put in him, grab a knife and slice her clothes off, maybe slice her thighs open to make sure she’d keep her legs spread wide, and then fuck her while strangling her. That’d show her not to put things in him. He should be the one putting things in her, the demon slut.

He’d carve into her, nice and quick so she couldn’t escape, put a Devil’s Trap in her toned stomach so she couldn’t smoke out, and then he’d fuck her till she wished she could be in him, till she wished she could have any body but the one she’d taken.

God, he didn’t even need to fuck her pussy. Just needed some place he could fill - her ass, maybe her mouth, anything would do.

Was Dean worried about where his thoughts were going? Not really. He rationalized it with the fact that he was aroused beyond belief, terrified, hurting, and she was his enemy. His thoughts were cropping up in self defense.

He’d never raped anyone before. Had never wanted to, the thoughts never crossing his mind. But fuck, it’d be nice to get her on that wooden floor, screaming his name, begging for mercy, showing her that he was more than just a pretty hunter who’d had to sell himself for money when he was younger, that he knew how to use his body more than she ever would.

He knew himself. He did. It didn’t matter that she could tie him up, put things in him, and make him cum harder than he ever had before. He knew what he liked, what he didn’t like, and he didn’t like any of this. He hadn’t asked for any of this.

And Dean fantasized about making her pay, the thoughts turning him on so much, that by the time she came back he was so lost in his own head and in a hazy, searing need that he didn’t really comprehend what she had with her. He did, but he didn’t put two and two together. She had a box with dials on it, coils on the end that things could be attached to, and copper wires.

It wasn’t till she was setting it up, attaching the wires to the box, and then the clamps, that he realized its purpose, and Dean just glared at her, imagined getting out, seeing beneath those clothes, all that pale skin, those long, curvy legs, those gorgeous breasts. And fuck, she’d be so nice in between her legs: pink, and dripping wet. He knew she was getting off to this. She’d be perfect for him, hungry, and then he’d take that hunger and use it to destroy her.

He could see the appeal in it, could see why she was doing it to him. The thoughts of having an enemy like that were delicious.

But to Dean, only because of what she was putting him through.

She deserved to hurt just like he was hurting.

Abaddon was caressing his abdomen now, hand soft and gentle, and he watched her other hand as she switched the machine on, hearing the hum of electricity. A red meter flicked back and forth a few times before settling.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep the current low. Just enough to keep you excited. No torture, remember?”

Dean was panting, throat constricting with his anxiety, making him start to gag and choke again, spit dribbling out of his mouth, as her hand went to twist one of the dials.

A zing! went through the copper wires straight to his nipples, his back arching as best it could with the restraints, and then he was tingling and burning. Beyond that it didn’t feel like much, other than the soreness of the clamps.

“How’s that?” she asked, nails now scraping up closer to his chest, but avoiding the wires.

Dean glared, and then a shriek left him when she turned it up very quickly, the tingling heat shooting all the way down into his pelvis and his wanting ass. But soon she was lowering it again, and he was trying to breathe, but the gag seemed as if it had somehow worked its way deeper into his throat.

“Relax,” she told him, grabbing the plug, and working it in and out of him, making his legs tremble. “Relax.” Fingers slipped longingly into his dripping rim now, puckered muscle clenched from the current running through him.

Oh, fuck, he was burning, little shudders trailing all throughout his body, liquid heat building up in his pelvis and just beneath his balls. Abaddon buried the plug as deep as she could, pressing down hard till he cried out, and then she was smacking his balls, over and over again, till he thought he saw stars, and his stomach felt as light as air, adrenaline sparking in his brain.

Dean screamed as best he could when she went and grabbed the dildo. She held it up for him to look at it, stroking it, making his own cock leak with want.

“Fourteen inches,” she appraised. “And all fourteen are going in here.” She spanked him for emphasis, but not on either of the cheeks of his ass, very directly on his rim, making him throb, and groan. “Four inch diameter to spread you nice and wide.”

Dean didn’t even have any coherent thoughts in his head because all of him was panicking at looking at it. It was black like the dildo gag, but so much bigger, larger than anything he’d taken up his ass before.

“Baby, you’ll be feeling me for days .”

Her voice was saturated with longing, absolutely soaked through with it, and it sent his heart climbing up into his filled throat. He screamed till he choked, voice muffled, as she placed it at his entrance and was rubbing it around and around. His eyes were squeezed shut, but he knew she was smiling, either that or licking her lips, or maybe sucking or biting on her bottom lip. Oh, that last image was hot, and it made it easier to relax as she pushed it into him.

His stomach was flipping over and over with an odd mix of fear and desire, hot, and liquidy, and then more lube was getting dripped on him and the dildo.

“Take it easy, baby. Easy. You’re gonna love it.”

With a few hard pumps of his raging erection, swollen flesh pressing against the ridges and the bulbous point in the plug, he was calming, legs going limp, ropes pulling at him, and a quiver ran through his entire body, up from his toes, through to his gut, his nipples, his throat, till his brain was cloudy with want. His eyes rolled back in his head when Abaddon pressed the dildo deeper, spreading him open. It felt like it was going to tear him apart, but in a way that hadn’t yet slipped into violence. This was on the edges of it, dark, and rough, and hard, but slick, and smooth, and sensual, and oh , it was getting deeper.

“Yeah, you like that?” Abaddon purred, now fucking him with it, opening him up. “Yeah, you do. You’re no hunter, no hero. You’re just a pretty, little toy, aren’t you? Just a body that can be used for sex. Bet all the nasty monsters want to fuck this hole. Ha! I beat them to it. And my, my, what a nice hole it is. Look at it, hugging this big dildo when I pull it out like it wants more. You want some more, Dean? You wanna get fucked nice and hard?”

He tried shaking his head, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, but that had him choking, and he thought he might’ve actually squealed when it went deeper.

“Yeah, getting all nice and stretched. You’re gonna be so ruined after this. Little Sammy’s not gonna know why you’re walkin’ all funny. What are you gonna tell him, huh? You gonna tell him about me? Tell him you had a nice redhead give it to you real good?”

Dean was shuddering, toes curling, and Abaddon was laughing.

“Sweetie, it’s only an inch in.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He wasn’t going to make it.

He was starting to hope he could pass out again, maybe skip through all of this, and wake up, having already orgasmed, weird things out of him.

You’re being a baby, he told himself.

If women could take his dick, which was admittedly not small, why couldn’t he take this?

Women were tough as shit, he realized, so maybe he had to be more like them. So Dean did his best to relax, ease into it, let his breaths go deep into his stomach, and each sensation increased tenfold, slicing into him, penetrating his nerves till he couldn’t figure out whether to be limp or tense, and it was sliding in deeper and deeper, spreading him, impaling him. Oh god , this was too much.

No, no, this wasn’t too much. It was too much when Abaddon made the cock ring start vibrating again, laugh piercing him.

“There we go,” she crooned. “How’s my pretty boy liking it now? Good, right?”

Oh, it was more than good. It was breathtakingly phenomenal, and he was going to lose his mind.

In, and in, and in, and in . She pushed beyond the point of discomfort, where pleasure bloomed within the depths of the unknown, and pain knew to take over. And then, the fake balls at the base were pressing against his ass.

Dean let out a long exhale, which came out as a deep moan, cock ring sending vibrations down to his core, dildo penetrating him beyond that, plug stabbing him right where it mattered. Dean was full in every possible way. He felt odd, stretched, and he looked down when Abaddon caressed his lower abdomen.

Dizziness overcame him when he saw his stomach was distended, and he laid his head back down, a weak, muffled cry leaving him, breaths now heavy as his overstimulated body that had clearly been pushed too far prepared to pass out.

Either the demon didn’t notice or she didn’t care because the dildo was getting pulled from him, leaving him with an acute emptiness that reminded him of getting kicked in the stomach.

She flicked her wrist forward.

Pressure and burning pleasure became Dean’s world, but then heated numbness and tingling took over his body and he soon forgot everything.

When he realized what was going on the cock ring seemed to be off of him, and he was breathing heavy, tears leaking from his eyes, cheeks stinging as if he’d been slapped. And still he was stuffed full - mouth, cock, and ass.

“What, you think you can pass out to get out of this?” Abaddon asked, fucking him slowly, leaving him groaning. She shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. And yeah, I took the cock ring off, but don’t think that means I’m going easy on you. I just decided your ass is what I want to focus on. Besides, I can always do this.” She grabbed the ring on the end of the plug, pulled it free of his stiff, swollen, tied-up cock in one swift movement, and then timed its re-entry with the thrust of the dildo. She went quickly with both, Dean’s body arching, muscles bulging, sweat dripping off of him, as he attempted to scream, but it made the gag dig into his throat, which caused his cock to twitch. She jabbed her palm against the end of the ring and he jolted, and then she turned up the dial for the clamps on his nipples, filling Dean’s body with delicious pain. “You’re lucky I’m going easy on you, Dean. It’s only because I like this body so much.”

And then she fucked him. She fucked him without mercy. In and out at an impossibly fast pace, dildo opening him up more than any man or monster could, and he supposed that was the appeal of it for her. His stomach bulged with each thrust, the air getting pushed out of him, pleasure getting punched upwards into his cock and his gut in bright, liquid bursts of pressure, gushing through his center like magma.

At one point she went slowly, pulling it out thirteen inches before letting him feel all of them slide and force their way back in. She pumped him hard as she did that, squeezing him around the plug.

Dean’s favorite and least favorite part was when she pulled it all the way out, positioned it at his reddened, beaten rim, the muscle sore and swollen and done, and then she waited, before pushing it back in, giving it to him.

He’d liked the idea of toys before this; dildos, in particular.

Dildos were emotionless, uncaring, as kind or as merciless as the wielder. They were impersonal, things that could be inside you and beating pleasure into you till you were screaming and then some.

But now sex toys were part of his assault.

Abaddon was creative, he had to give her that.

As she fucked him diligently, watching him arch his back and choke, she put a hand down her pants, mouth open in a silent oh , and he could tell she was working herself hard. His cock was twitching, throbbing, absolutely leaking precum watching this. Oh fuck, she must’ve been so impossibly wet. Dean could barely move, but little jolts ran through him, attempts to thrust his hips as he watched her, as he got opened up and destroyed inside where he was all hot and wet with lube.

She smiled, pupils huge with want, hand still clearly working fast as she went at him. Eventually she pulled the dildo from him, leaving him crying out and throbbing, and it fell to the floor. Then she was on the table, kneeling in between his legs, pulling her jeans down just a bit, giving Dean a glimpse of lace, crimson lingerie. She turned off the current, and her mouth was hungry, latching onto his thighs, fingers rubbing over her clit, other hand fucking him as hard she could with the ridged and bulbous plug that hurt like a bitch at this point.

By the time she was biting his thigh as she seemed to climax, Dean was reaching his own end, ass and insides throbbing and clenching powerfully, all the way up into his stomach, pleasure injecting itself straight into his bloodstream, and Abaddon was pulling the plug out to suck up his cum, which had him curling his toes. He saw black, and stars, and blinding white. He saw everything, and nothing, saw the most sexual images there were, and the most violent, filled with skin, and wetness, and heat, and blood, and in all of them it was him and Abaddon; pale, creamy skin, bodies pushing, and pulling, and tugging, and straining, searing and aching for that painfully sweet end. Bursting and gushing, everything inside of him coming undone in a sinuous, undulating assault. It burned deep within Dean’s body, rising and falling, and crashing together till he couldn’t take it and his mind went blank, the end of it all falling upon him.

He had a body. That, he was aware of. It was breathing, breathing hard, and someone was leaning on it. They climbed up it, his body, reached up, and pulled something long and thick from his forced-open mouth, and then a sound was leaving him.

The blankness ceased when he saw Abaddon’s face, and she was caressing him, nails almost digging, like she wanted to scrape, make him bleed.

“So pretty,” she told him.

“Fuck you,” he breathed, not sure where the words came from, or how he mustered them after all that. Surely others would be too afraid. But what more could she do to him? She’d already used everything from her table.

She undid the nipple clamps, letting them drop to the floor, fully feeling over his body, and all he wanted to do was sleep, but he found it in him to face her down, numbness taking over, a strange perception of reality clouding his mind, like none of this was real.

“Be nice,” she chided, lips close to his. “After all, I still want a ride in this body.”

“Then get to work, bitch.”

The words didn’t seem to come from him, tone empty, almost meaningless, voice missing its usual snark, and Abaddon seemed to notice because she frowned at him, brows lowering.

“No, I think I’ll let you walk around on Earth just a bit longer, just to play, just until it really sinks in. You were never meant for this life, never meant to be daddy’s little soldier, or a big, mean monster killer.” She pouted, red lips looking a little too perfect. “After all, you’re far too pretty to be a hunter.”

Abaddon kissed him, and Dean let her, too tired to put up a fight, too tired to feel much of anything, but he had one thought...

Maybe she was right.