It was dark, cold and the air smelled of metal.
That were the first sensations Dean could make out, when he woke up from his raging headache. He couldn’t recount what had happened or how he had ended up… wherever here was. It was narrow and so dark, that Dean couldn’t make out anything. He was drifting in some sort of liquid. It was watery and licked against his hips, splashing up his arms. It soaked his trousers. Dean was half sitting, half laying in what seemed to be a really uncomfortable corner.
Dean frowned and groaned. As he groped around behind himself, his knuckles hit against the walls, which made his prison into such a narrow and claustrophobic space. Dean flinched. Whatever he had hit, it echoed loudly around him. Bang. Bang, bang. The sound faded away, after having been thrown around multiple times. Dean reached forwards once more to properly touch the wall. It felt cold and smooth underneath his finger. Was that tin? It seemed like it. Was he in a container of some sorts?
“Oh, you stupid son of a bitch”, breathed Dean. His feet slipped off the wall as he tried to stand up. But whatever that weird corner was, it made it impossible for him to get on his feet. In fact, his attempts caused the dark liquid to slosh around, and several drops landed on his face. They were so large, they easily covered it and seemed to encase his head in a bubble of the liquid. Dean gasped in shock and swallowed some of the liquid.
Big mistake! Dean slammed his hands on his mouth. With teary eyes, he thought: Don’t throw up! Don’t throw up! Don’t throw up! Whatever he had just swallowed, must be the worst alcoholic beverage in the history of alcoholic beverages! It had an awfully strong, metallic aftertaste. But prior to that, it was sour. Like freaking lemon-juice-raw-sour! Its flavour scratched in Dean’s throat and he felt the overwhelming urge to spit out. Moreover how could something so watery taste so sticky as soon as it touched his mouth? For all Dean knew, he had just swallowed soap! Had he swallowed soap?!
Oh my God, I am gonna die! I am gonna die! I am gonna die! Hectically, Dean groped around his throat and made several hurling sounds. He was fully expecting that he would throw up for sure. Maybe puke along some snot and bile for good measure? But nothing happened. Maybe Dean’s hunting instinct and paranoia had overreacted. Still, he had to get out of here. Somehow!
Dean rose his tiny fists and started to hammer against the metal walls. He shouted: “HEY! I AM IN HERE! HELLO! ANYBODY?!” He could barely hear his own shouts over the loud echoes his pounding caused. If anything, he had to stop fairly quickly, because his attempts at catching the attention of anybody outside of this container were starting to hurt his ears. Leave alone that screaming so loudly in such a narrow space was taking up quite a lot of oxygen. Not three minutes later, Dean had to stop. He leaned himself against the metal wall and tried to catch his breathing. His head was dizzy.
Thus Dean at first didn’t pick up on the strange rustling and graining outside. That unawareness abruptly turned into awareness as his prison was suddenly lifted up and pulled out of wherever it had been stored in. The sudden jerks and pulls of the outside force caused the corner, Dean had been leaning in, to be tilted sideways. Dean screamed in shock and panic as he lost his balance. Staggering forwards, he heard a rushing of liquid, before he was met face first with a dark tidal wave. It took Dean under, having him hurl over himself, disorientating him. Only the experience from prior with the creepy substance made sure that Dean kept his mouth firmly shut.
He tried to get himself into a more upright position and swim back up to the surface of the liquid. However as Dean was giving all his energy into a powerful backstroke, the stranger, who had grabbed his container, was inflicting a new kind of peril. The entire thing tilted itself forwards, then backwards, then forwards again. Tidal wave upon tidal wave rose against the metal wall, and Dean was tossed around from side to side. Just keeping his head above the surface was becoming an uphill battle. The unwitting stranger must be completely oblivious to the carnage he was inflicting, with what could only be a simple flicking of his wrist.
Finally the movements stilled. Dean took in lungful of air. His head was pounding. Above him, there was a high pierced squeaking noise. Metal scratched against metal. A small ray of light fell on top of him and with it the sensation of fresh air. Dean looked up just in time to see something white and large remove what looked like a dark silver button.
It took Dean a few seconds to put two and two together. The button had been the cap of a flask, which had just been unscrewed. Which meant that whatever this disgusting liquid was, it was drinkable. And if it was drinkable and the stranger had just removed the cap, then this meant he would no doubt raise the flask to his lips to take a sip.
No, no, no, no! Dean’s eyes widened in horror and dread as his mind realised where his journey would be headed. He began to scream with renewed energy and power in his voice, that could only be born from absolute desperation and fear: “DON’T TAKE A SIP! I AM DOWN HERE! I AM INSIDE YOUR FLASK! PLEASE DON’T DRINK ME! PLEASE..”
But the ground was lurching and swaying underneath him as the giant unwittingly rose the item up towards his lips. Dean could hear and feel the rushing of the liquid. Its strong current was hurling itself towards the opening, ready to be taken in by the darkness of the awaiting mouth. Dean threw himself backwards. He was frantically starting to swim in the opposite direction towards the bottom of the flask. The disgusting liquid slammed in his face and stung in his eyes. Behind him, just outside of the metal walls, he could hear a deep rumbling and gurgling as the stranger swallowed gallons of liquid.
Dean kept fighting against the unrelenting current, not caring how he swallowed small particles of the liquid. Trying to resist his urge to throw up. His heart thumped in his ears. Dean prayed that the mysterious stranger was not going to finish the entire flask. Please lower the thing! Please lower the thing! Please! His muscles strained as he kept swimming. He wouldn’t be able to keep up with this rushing liquid for much longer.
As if the stranger had heard his wish – and as if to spite him –, he raised the flask even higher. Dean screamed in absolute horror as he felt the pull of gravity. Through the opening of the flask, he could hear a soft hum as the stranger continued gulping his beverage down. Whatever this was, he clearly wanted to savour every last drop of it. By now the flask was almost vertical. Dean’s fingers lost any hold, he might have had on the already slippery surface.
“Please, no! I don’t wanna die!!!!”, screeched Dean as he did a free fall through the flask. Wind rushed in his ear and his body did somersault after somersault. At least this unfortunate case allowed him to sort of arrange himself in how he was falling. The narrow entrance of the flask’s opening was coming closer and closer by the second. Behind it Dean could make out huge, plush lips, which were parted. Through a slit in them flooded the dark liquid, which as it turned out was as red as blood.
Dean shut his eyes, crossing himself and murmuring a prayer in absolute desperation. He prepared himself to be sucked up by his unwitting predator and swallowed along with his drink. However the narrowness of the flask’s entrance turned out to be Dean’s salvation. He smacked against the upper lip with a dull splat. Realising where he was, he immediately tightened his grip upon smooth and soft skin.
The lips were warm and large. Their skin had a fair pink tan to itself. Above Dean were long, fine, dark hairs. Maybe the hints of a well shaved beard, which was now starting to grow back. A smell of honey emitted from the lips. Maybe their owner was using lip balm on a regular basis.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you”, Dean stammered in utter relief and kissed the skin before his face, which had through a happy accident saved his life. Around him, the flask was being pulled away. It was probably empty. Dean took the chance to look back at it in the hopes of getting an idea of whose flask, he had stumbled into.
The flask was made out of tin. It was hard to stare at. Everything was so very large from where Dean was currently cowering. He had sunk his hands as deep as he could into the upper lip. His predator didn’t even seem to have realised it. Or if he did, he didn’t pay it any mind. The giant’s movements seemed to happen in slow motion. As the flask was lowered to be stored back into the man’s pockets, it took a while for Dean to make out an enormous hand. Its skin was white and the fingers long. The tips alone were large enough to squash Dean, if the giant applied just a bit too much pressure.
As Dean’s gaze wandered down a muscular wrist, he could make out what seemed to be a blanket or carpet. It was of a fine and thin fabric, had a fair grey tone and some strange folds and crinkles in it. It took Dean a few seconds to figure out that he was staring at the beginning of a sleeve. It took him a few more seconds to realise that this sleeve belonged to a grey jeans jacket and that he also knew the owner of that jeans jacket.
Dean’s jaw dropped.
“Son of a bitch!”
This was Sam! This was his fucking baby brother! Though right now he was more like a giant brother! Dean had landed in Sam’s flask. Now the pieces were starting to fall into place. The weird, awful tasting, red liquid had been demon blood. Dean watched the flask in Sam’s gigantic hand disappear back in the jacket’s pocket. As Dean looked around once more, he froze. Sam must have been rather sloppy, when he had downed the demon blood. In the corner of his mouth was a huge red smear of it. Unfortunately for Dean, he was stuck right on top of that smear. The blood had already started to crust a bit and thus its consistency turned into something akin to super glue. Dean couldn’t pull himself free. No matter how hard he tried.
Sam seemed to have realised he had blood stuck to his mouth too. Dean made out a blurry movement over his head and then to his right. Turning his head, he gave a horrified, choked down scream. Sam’s finger placed itself against his lips and began to move sideways. His brother wanted to wipe the blood off his mouth! “Sammy, no”, begged Dean. The steady movement of the finger was like an earth quake. It rippled through Dean’s body as it inched closer and closer.
Dean’s eyes were wide in absolute terror and fear as he saw the rills on Sam’s fingertip. They felt rough and coarse as the finger swiped across the corner of Sam’s mouth. It took Dean along with itself like he was nothing but a crumb. Finally the finger stopped its tumultuous travel and hovered in mid-air. Blood stuck to its tip, deep and red and sticky – and Dean was right in the middle of it all.
His heart hammered in his chest and he panted as he looked up his brother. Sammy was huge. Frightfully huge. His whole face seemed to span the field of Dean’s vision. His eyes alone were dark ponds of brown, mixed with the tiniest flakes of green. But even those tiny flakes of green were larger then Dean himself. Long strands of brown hair hang around Sam’s face. Over his eyes and down his shoulders. Even just one of those strands was as thick as wire to Dean. His little brother had turned into a more terrifying thing then any of the monsters, they had ever hunted.
Sam’s eyes dipped down to stare at his finger. Immediately Dean began to scream: “Sam! Sam, it is me! I am here! LOOK AT ME! SAMMY!” The finger began to steadily move forwards. Its push still felt so forceful that it almost knocked the air out of Dean’s lungs. They were advancing towards the lips again. Dean’s face turned white as he saw them part once more. Hot, moist breath greeted him. It smelled of the blood, Sam had just downed mere minutes prior.
“Sam! No! Don’t! You fucking –” Upon seeing that tongue sneak out again and head his way, Dean quickly turned around. His tiny fingers groped onto Sam’s nail for dear life. It felt rigid and hard like a plank of wood in Dean’s hands. He dared to peek over his shoulder. His heart plunged a hundred feet deep. The tongue was coming closer. It curled its way out of Sam’s mouth like a snake out of a cave. Saliva bubbled between taste buds.
Dean tightened his grip and braced himself for the impact. Sam’s tongue felt wet and hot. It pulsated like a living animal. However merely the tip of it had wept across Dean’s feet and legs, leaving them dripping with saliva. Sam halted, almost as if he had changed his mind. Maybe he found finger licking gross? Surely his brother didn’t belong to the kinky type of people. Right? Right?! Surely Sam would just wipe his finger with a napkin, he’d toss away. Please let that be the case, please let that be the case, please let that be the case.
Dean yelled out of the top of his lungs, when Sam suddenly shoved his whole finger into his mouth. Before he even had any chance to orientate himself, that gigantic serpent of a tongue came to life. It wound itself around Sam’s finger, comfortably sandwiching Dean between itself and the tip. Saliva pooled around them. It quickly soaked Dean and his clothing through as Sam began to suckle on his finger.
Being suckled on was probably one of the worst things, Dean could ever experience. There was this constant pull and push, which seemed to try to tore him away from the finger. At the same time, that titan of a tongue was slobbering all over the finger and Dean himself. It tightened in rhythmical intervals. Dean was pressed face-first against the taste buds, which scraped across his skin. They were sore bumps, which dug into his flesh like sandpaper. The brutal smothering of Sam’s tongue made it almost impossible to breathe. Dean was certain, if Sam’s tongue weren’t so cushiony and soft, this treatment would have broken more then a few rips.
Sam’s moan vibrated around him. It was in parts muffled by the tongue and the finger. However at the same time, the tongue trembled and its tremor rippled through Dean’s entire body. He gave a painful squeal and moan as that vibrating shudder shook his poor cock through and through. Of fucking course! I am in the middle of being eaten alive by my big oaf of a brother and I am having a freaking boner! Why was his penis like this?!
Sam pulled his finger out of his mouth with a low plop. He smacked his lips against each other as if he was contemplating the aftertaste. That smacking sounded like the wet flaps of a dragon’s wings in poor Dean’s ears. There was a short moment of calm. Maybe Sam had noticed, he was having something other then liquid in his mouth. Surely, he would open his mouth again and pull out the foreign body. Any second now. Any second now.
That didn’t happen. Instead those plumb lips once more sealed Dean in almost complete darkness. Through a small slit, which naturally seemed to come from Sam’s breathing, fell in a small ray of light. It allowed Dean to make out the row of teeth, pristine and white. Each one was as large as he himself. From the sharp canines, which looked like they could slice meat to pieces to the heavy molars, which no doubt could grind Dean into a pulp, if he had the misfortune of getting between them. Underneath him, the serpent of Sam’s tongue was deceptively quiet.
It was hot and moist in here. Sam’s breath felt damp against Dean’s skin. He panted softly, listening to the whooshing noise and its low pace, which came from his brother’s breathing. There was a tremulous shake and a low thundering sound like an earth quake. Dean startled and screamed in absolute terror as the tongue lifted itself up again. It rose higher and higher, before Dean was pressed against the hot, hard flesh of his brother’s palate. The incisor teeth were only a few inches away from him. If Dean had the freedom to move his arms, he might be able to touch them.
He tried to wrestle his arm free. Another thunderous moan boomed through Sam’s mouth and drowned out any other sounds. His tongue squished Dean harder into the palate. It moved back and forth like the hottest, thickest tidal wave possible. Hundreds of taste buds dug themselves into Dean’s skin. His poor cock twitched and hardened from the rigorous pressure and friction as Sam’s tongue was moving up and down his body. His tongue was probably only moving a few inches. Yet for Dean, it felt like an entire continent moved.
Dean’s cock twitched and drummed up and down from the applied friction. This shouldn’t be hot! But god damn it, the whole situation had something frightfully erotic about it all. The confined space, the hotness and moisture of the air. Sam’s tongue, which worked him over absolutely mercilessly as his big brother savoured every last inch of his tiny body, completely unaware of Dean’s predicament. The oldest Winchester always had had a kink for being dominated and controlled by others. However this situation brought it to a whole new scary and horrifying extreme.
His cock was growing uncomfortably hard at the treatment. The way, Sam’s tongue kneaded and pressed against his erection felt like it was trying to squeeze his cum out of him. Parts of Dean would have probably tried to hump on Sam’s enormous tongue, if he wasn’t so completely immobilised and held in place. At least the erection and its resulting pleasure and arousal was doing one good thing. It limited Dean’s fear or at the very least it let him forget for a fleeting moment, where he was.
Sometimes he could swear, he and Sam were moaning out at the same time. Of course the moans, sighs and groans, his little brother made, drowned out any pathetic and puny sounds, Dean made. No wonder. This was Sam’s mouth and thus it was his domain. The noises, Sam made, boomed in Dean’s ears. Sometimes, if his brother made a particularly loud groan, the sound caused Dean’s head to ring.
Pearls of sweat covered Dean from head to toe. His cock ached and shivered. Tiny droplets of pre-cum came out of his slit, which must be thinner then a skin’s hair. It was opening and closing, and Dean couldn’t help but give a quiet whine and plea. He needed to come. He needed release. “Sammy – Sammy – Oh my God… You feel so good.”
Even though there was no way that the titan had heard him, Sam’s tongue seemed to suddenly increase its rhythm. Its hot, narrow tip cowered Dean’s face as the tongue lapped and licked across his entire body. He was pressed into the hot body of flesh. His own body smeared full of saliva and in parts his own pre-cum, which must have diluted in a matter of seconds. Finally Dean released a high pitched scream, body bolting upwards as much as he could in the confined space between Sam’s tongue and template, and came.
Hot, white cum discharged itself across Sam’s tongue. It got washed away by the river of saliva. Dean gasped and groaned as he flopped onto his stomach. He gave a whine at his overstimulated cock. Dean panted in his afterglow, satisfied and exhausted. Embarrassment, fear and shock flooded his system. He doubted that Sam had ever noticed he was there in his mouth. Or that he had jerked off his big brother with that insanely talented and gigantic tongue of his.
Suddenly there was another lurch and sway in the environment. Disorientated, Dean looked around. His satisfaction was ripped away from him as his mind remembered exactly where he was and where he was going to head. Sam must have finished the savouring of whatever he had assumed Dean to be. Thus it was now time to discard this little treat. Dean screamed as the probably loudest and most heinous gulp filled his ears and ran down his entire body as Sam swallowed him whole.
Sam gently nipped at his fingers. He was brushing them clean with quick licks of his tongue, eyes half shut in satisfaction. The gentle suckling of his knuckles familiar in his ears. Luckily Ruby had been able to give him a full flask of demon blood a few days back. Thus when Sam had been having the craving, he had downed the whole content. Once you got over the sourness of its flavour, it was among the best substances, you could drink. The way, his body responded, the blood rushed through his veins and Sam felt like he could take on the whole world, always excited him anew.
Though there had been something different about today’s flask. Maybe parts of the blood had clogged up? Whatever it was, this piece had tasted really interesting. Sour at first, but the longer Sam had licked and suckled at it, the more its flavour had changed. It had merged into something sweet with a hint of savoury saltiness. It had been too good to immediately swallow down. Sam had really wanted to savour it. Which was exactly what he had done. And boy, it had been probably one of the best flavours, he had tasted in a long while.
Sam rubbed his full belly and smiled to himself.
He absolutely had to ask Ruby what, if anything she had added to this flask.