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The Winchesters were finally doing okay.

After Mary’s death, it hadn’t been easy for them to go on and get back to normal, but now everything was alright again. They had bought a new house, quiet and pretty and big enough for three, away from the terrible memories of Mary’s death, John had a regular job that brought food to their table, and Sam was delighted to start kindergarten at the end of the summer.

Everything was so fine, actually, that John decided it was time for them to invest in something that would bring them all even closer together… that’s why at the end of June he came back home with a new pet for the family.

The dog was some sort of Great Dane mix, still young and gangly-limbed but already buzzing with powerful energy, and Sam and Dean took to him immediately, burying their little hands in the dog’s short fur, giggling as he tried to lick their faces.

“What should we call him?” Sam asked with a huge smile.

“He looks like a Max,” Dean declared. “Or a Phil.”

“That’s M. Jenkins’ first name,” protested Sam. “You can’t name a dog like a teacher, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Boys, boys,” interrupted John with an amused laugh, just as Dean was about to retort. “He already has a name, it’s Rusty.”

Dean and Sammy both frowned, looking at the dog.

“He doesn’t look like a Rusty,” objected Dean.

“Well too bad kid, cause that’s his name,” John laughed,“and he already answers to it, just look. Rusty?”

The dog looked up at him with his big, shiny brown eyes.

Sit.”

Rusty’s butt immediately dropped to the ground, his tail waggling happily.

“Good boy,” John said, petting the dog’s head proudly. “Now kids, what do you say we show him the garden?”

*

Rusty fit in their family like he had always been there.

He played around with Dean and Sammy, looked at John with an adoring gaze, obeying every command from him, and generally brought into their home the playful, mindless spontaneity it had been missing until then.

So when John told Dean that he wouldn’t be able to stay with him during the first week of summer (Sam would be away on a camp trip for science kids, that Dean had absolutely refuse to partake in), Dean wasn’t worried; Rusty would be there, and he would keep Dean company and protect the house from any unwanted visitors.

*

It was a hot afternoon.

Dean had spent most of it in his underwear, unashamed to roam around the house half-naked since there was no one to see him, happy as long as he got to feel the air conditioning on his skin.

He had been lazily throwing a tennis ball at Rusty to get him to chase it, but the dog seemed uninterested, furry head settled on huge front paws... in fact, Rusty was so bored that when the ball had bounced into the kitchen to roll under the fridge, Dean had been the one forced to go get it.

He was now trying to reach the lost ball, tiny arm searching blindly for the toy, when something brushed lightly at his ass, so suddenly he almost hit his head on the door.

“What—”

It was Rusty, apparently not bored anymore, his tail waggling happily as he nuzzled his snout against Dean’s ass, and the boy laughed.

“Stop that, you doof,” he said, pushing the dog away. “I’m trying to find your toy here.”

He went back to his search, but he didn’t even had time to put his arm back under the fridge that Rusty was back behind him, snuffing and breathing and generally being annoying… Dean rolled his eyes, batting a hand at the animal.

“Go away, Rusty,” he said without even looking, focused on trying to fit an elbow in the narrow space under the fridge.

His fingers grazed the surface of the tennis ball just as warmth suddenly bumped harshly into his backside, something pointy settling right between his ass cheeks.

“Ugh, Rusty!” Dean exclaimed, jumping back and startling Rusty who backed off, looking guilty. “What was—”

That’s when he noticed the huge, red thing hanging between Rusty’s hind legs.

“What—Rusty is that—is that your dick ?” Dean asked, incredulous.

Rusty didn’t answer of course, his round brown eyes shiny and shameful, and Dean shook his head.

“I just—whatever, man, just keep that thing away from me, alright?”

He gave a pointed look to Rusty and when the dog didn’t move, apparently subdued, Dean went back to trying to get back that stupid ball.

He had almost managed to get a good grip on the round toy, and he flexed his wrist to elongate his fingers and pull it back towards him… when the movement caused a shift in his elbow, and between one second and the next, Dean was stuck.

He tried twisting his arm and wrist to break free, but somehow every time he felt like his elbow was about to give in, the sharp pain he felt made him fear to sprain it—or worse. He tried to delicately pull, testing the resistance, but nothing gave and he remained just as trapped as before.

Well, there was really nothing he could do, apparently. He would just have to wait for his dad to come home, which… admittedly would not happen before several hours, but Dean was a big boy, wasn’t he? He could be patient…

Dean had just made that decision when Rusty came back and started sniffing his ass again, nudging hard against the thin fabric of Dean’s underwear.

“Rusty, for god’s sake!” yelped Dean, annoyed that he was this time physically unable to force Rusty to back off by anything but by voice. “Go away!”

But the position Dean was forced to stay in apparently did something for Rusty, since the next thing Dean knew, he had about a hundred pounds of fur and muscle plastered all over his body, two long paws on either side of his waist, and something wet was sliding wetly on the back of his naked thigh.

“Oh my God, Rusty,” Dean lamented. “You stupid dog, you can’t—”

But Rusty had already gotten bored of Dean’s clothed ass, because he started pawing at the boy’s underwear, the pads of his paws warm against Dean’s skin at the waistband of the boxers, catching at the edge.

“What the—”

That’s when Dean really understood what Rusty was trying to do.

He was trying to mount him.

“Oh god, Rusty, no, you can’t just—get your paws off of me!” Dean yelled, starting to panic slightly and trying to get away.

He still miserably failed, maybe because of the sheer weight of the animal he was trying to dislodge, and his pathetic excuse for an escape actually only served to push his ass closer to the dog’s crotch.  Rusty barked happily, maybe mistaking Dean’s wriggling for enthusiasm, because his pawing got a lot more urgent after that, short claws dragging insistently at the thin fabric.

“No, no, please…” begged Dean. “Please, someone! Someone help! Please!” he cried out as loud as he could.

But his screams weren’t heard, and he was forced to remain there, on the verge of tears as his dog tried to fuck him.

It wasn’t long until Rusty figured out there was an easy way to get rid of that unfortunate barrier of clothing keeping him away from Dean’s ass, and the boy whimpered desperately when he felt Rusty pushing it down, weirdly skilled claws guiding the fabric until it was past Dean’s ass, blocking his thighs together.

Rusty started sniffing again, apparently fascinated with the warm uncovered skin, and Dean could feel his tongue lapping between his cheeks, behind his balls, and humiliation was burning his eyes; he yelped when Rusty actually licked his hole, cheeks flaming at how wrong and good that had felt, and that went on for a few minutes, Dean completely mortified at the moans that escaped his lips while his dog rimmed him.

When the loud slurps suddenly stopped and Rusty took a step back, Dean almost felt dizzy with the rush of sensations. The cool air hit his slick, loose hole, and he closed his eyes, half in prayer, half in fear.

“Please stop—you can't—please stop doing that—” Dean ordered weakly, but Rusty ignored him and just stood again on his hind paws as he came closer, the soft fur of his legs brushing the back of Dean’s naked thighs...

Dean tried to move, push his hips down to make a slightly less easy target, but Rusty was too heavy and he was pressing too hard against Dean’s legs, forcing him to keep his back arched and his ass freaking presented, and the boy found he was totally unable to move…

In fact, Rusty didn’t even flinch at Dean’s pathetic effort, and the boy could only whimper when he felt the dog’s long, hard cock nestle itself between his ass cheeks, rubbing wetly against his hole.

Dean clenched his ass to try and keep Rusty away, but that only encouraged the dog to fuck harder into the hot space between the boy’s cheeks, and Dean shivered helplessly at the hateful, moist sensation.

It took Rusty a few tries, his cock slipping between Dean’s cheeks every time he thrust forward, and Dean actually prayed that it would discourage him and he would just give up an go away… but suddenly the cockhead caught the boy’s entrance and Rusty, far from giving up now that he was so close to his goal, just thrust in.

And God, it hurt so bad.

Rusty simply didn’t stop. There was no slow penetration, no allowing Dean to get used to him, just a mad race, in-and-out, in-and-out, lightning fast, and Dean was screaming in pain, panting at the foreign, unusual feeling of having his hole breached again and again, the member feeling giant and burning inside of him…

It was like time had slowed; Dean could feel every single inch of Rusty’s cock enter him, the slide painful without lube or any kind of prep… it went on and on and on, the long animal penis just fitting itself deeper inside of Dean at every thrust, going where nothing had ever gone before.

It was agonizing, and there was nothing Dean could do.

Rusty was still fucking him, rhythm mad and slapping and Dean was crying, fat tears rolling down his face, but the dog obviously didn’t care as he kept on pounding his young master’s ass, harsh and jackrabbit fast.

As if the humiliation of being fucked by his own dog wasn’t enough, Dean had yet another surprise coming.

The pain was still intensifying, and Dean suddenly realized it felt as if Rusty’s cock was still growing inside of him… which felt alien and wrong, but after a few seconds of feeling his ass being even more stretched, even more wrecked from the inside, Dean knew it wasn’t just a feeling…

He was being knotted.

He was being knotted like a proper bitch, and he would be forced to stay speared on his dog's cock as he was stuffed full of come, trapped there until the knot deflated...

There was truly no escape.

Rusty’s cock swelled and grew until there was something big and fat catching at Dean’s ass at every thrust, forcing the rim wider at every passage, tugging at the loose, tender muscle, and it grew and grew and grew

And then all of a sudden the knot caught, and Rusty was locked inside of Dean, and the stud was coming inside of him.

Dean moaned helplessly as the dog emptied his load in his ass, warm come splashing his insides, Dean’s fingers scraping the floor for some leverage, for any kind of escape, but finding none as he was bred like a bitch.

Dean didn't know how long they stayed like that, locked together as Rusty spilled his dog seed inside his tight little virgin hole... it could have been hours for all that Dean knew, but eventually the knot deflated enough to slip wetly out of the boy's ass, and Rusty stepped back.

Dean let out a whine, his ass weirdly empty as the muscles clenched nervously around nothing, and he felt a dollop of come leak out of him, rolling between his thighs.

Rusty sniffed curiously at the abused hole, licking the fresh come with a raspy tongue, and seemed satisfied with the results of his fucking since he just took off, his claws clicking on the kitchen tiles as he left the room.

Dean was left alone, still stuck, arm aching and ass throbbing, but at least it was over and now he could just wait for his dad to come home and release him.

He suddenly realized what John would come home to, his son naked and ass up in the air, dog come leaking out of his hole, and Dean's cheeks burned hotly at the embarrassment...

Maybe he could break free before John got back.

Dean pulled on his arm again, but by now the muscles were numb, and he couldn’t even feel his fingers… he sighed dejectedly, trying to calm his heart.

At least Rusty was done; that was something, wasn’t it?

*

Turned out, Rusty wasn't done at all.

He came back some forty minutes later (Dean couldn't be sure, but it was certainly less than an hour), trotting lightly into the kitchen and walking up to a still-stuck Dean, and the boy understood suddenly that once hasn't been enough.

The dog wanted more, and he was gonna take it from Dean's well-fucked, presented hole...

Dean was unable to do anything as the dog just stood on his hind legs and started mounting him again, long cock sliding easily into his master’s already come-wet hole.

*

*

*

John came home that night in a particularly good mood, whistling quietly as he hung his coat to the rack.

He was surprised when Dean didn’t jump on him immediately, begging for a hug.

“Dean?” he called curiously.

He could hear Rusty move around in the kitchen, and he realized Dean was probably with him, making the most of his summer holiday to catch up on his favorite games before his dad got home and asked him to get started on school homework…

John was smiling when he walked in the kitchen, expecting to see Dean sat at the table with Rusty at his feet, but his smile dropped as soon as he took in the picture before him.

Rusty was—he was mounting Dean, his huge, muscular, animal body covering the boy’s small, human one, hind legs straight and standing as his furry hips worked furiously against the tight, pert ass.

Dean wasn’t making a sound, his whole body limp and broken as he just lay there with his ass in the air, the dog’s red, long cock jabbing in and out of him so fast it seemed almost blurry… and judging by the impressive puddle of come he was kneeling in, that—whatever that was— must have been going on for hours.

John came closer, watching attentively as his dog took his son like a bitch; Dean’s face was turned away from him, his dark blond hair matted against his head by sweat, and he obviously hadn’t heard his father come home.

Something was trapping him where he was, and John could see the weird angle that the boy’s arm was doing under the fridge, forcing him to just stay put if he didn’t want to get hurt...

(John had always been quite adamant about his boys’ safety, and there was nothing they could do that could make him angrier than when they hurt themselves carelessly. Obviously Dean knew that, since he had chosen to stay still and be mounted like a bitch instead of risking injuring his arm…)

So John decided not to say anything.

He watched as Rusty finished his business with his son, coming with a hoarse howl, deep inside the tight ass.

He watched as the dog’s knot trapped his come inside the boy, watched as Dean took it without moving or saying anything, only letting out a tiny, pained whimper once in a while.

John waited until Rusty was done, until the fat, red knot deflated and slipped out of Dean’s ass… a gush of thick come rushed out of the gaping hole, dripping down the boy’s smooth, come-soaked thighs and to the tiled floor of the kitchen, and as soon as Dean was released his hips dropped to the ground, weak and boneless.

After that Rusty simply left, abandoning Dean on a ruined heap on the floor, his small belly round and bloated with dog come, and John was left alone with his son.

John threw a glance at the boy, but Dean was completely out of it; his breathing came out deep and tired, as if he had been so exhausted that he had passed out as soon as Rusty had been done with his breeding.

Heart pounding, cock straining against the fly of his jeans, John quietly walked closer to get a better look…

Gently, careful not to wake up his wrecked son, John grabbed the boy’s skinny hips and raised them higher, putting the little ass at level with his eyes…

Dean’s hole was wrecked.

Cherry red, raw and abused, the once-tight pucker was positively gaping, rim loosened so much John could see the pink insides twitching beyond the tender entrance, creamy and shiny with dog come.

John felt his cock twitch against the fly of his jeans, and he instinctively looked around as if watching out for indiscreet  neighbors, but there was no point; no one lived close by, joggers tended to stay away from the little house by the woods, and Sam was away at camp.

There was literally no one to see John right now.

He brought a hand to his crotch, half-surprised, half-resigned to find there the hardest boner he'd had in years, and all for his son...

Eyes fixed on the gaping magnificence of Dean's ruined hole, John slowly unbuckled his belt, unzipping his fly and taking his cock out blindly, hypnotized that he was by the irresistible display.

After all, there was no harm in using what was so gracefully offered, right? Dean would never know...

No one would ever know.

John guided his erection to the pink, stretched entrance of his son's ass, teasing the abused flesh with the leaking tip of his cock, dragging his own fluids through the ones his dog had left behind…

He would not enjoy this, John told himself. He would not allow himself to like it too much, because he wasn't that guy.

But it would have been an insult to see such a gorgeous offering and not to take it.

He was only a man, John thought, and he sank inside.

The feeling was— god, the feeling was amazing. Even after being fucked for hours, even after being pounded and stuffed full of dog cock for a whole day, Dean was still overwhelmingly tight, the silky inner walls of his tiny body wrapping around his father like a vice, and John let out a low, animalistic growl as he started pounding the wet heat. 

It was simply delicious, and John would have been more disturbed at having the same taste as his dog, had Dean's hole not been girl-sweet, slut-wet and virgin-tight at the same time.

It was definitely a first class ass, John thought proudly as he picked up the pace, feeling his orgasm build and his balls tighten. 

He finally came with a groan, flooding his son's insides with his own seed and weirdly pleased at the thought it would mix with his dog's come inside Dean's body.

When he was done riding his orgasm inside his boy's tight heat, John pulled out, watching as his cock was followed out of Dean's ass by a gush of thick come, and tucked himself back in his jeans.

It was time to go back to the door and pretend he had just got home before releasing Dean from his under-the-fridge trap, maybe play up a little disgust at seeing his son so defiled...

And after that, maybe John could figure out a way to use Dean's hole again.