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Sam's wrists strain against the ropes binding him to the headboard, twisting this way and that and finding no give. He wouldn't expect any different; Ruby is intimately familiar with all his tricks, knows exactly how to keep him from escaping. It never fails to drag mixed emotions out of him—anxiety, at being so thoroughly trapped, and relief, at having everything taken out of his hands for the time being.
Somewhere behind him, he can hear Ruby moving around. His position on his stomach doesn't allow him to see much, the demon still out of his line of sight even when he twists his head around. Not that he's trying that; the one time he did, he got a solid smack to the back of the head for his efforts. Not worth the trouble.
The snap of leather through the air, and Sam falls still, listening. He'd known where this was going when Ruby slid his belt free of his pants with a grin and then didn't discard it, instead tossing it over one shoulder as she went about stripping Sam the rest of the way. But knowing and actually hearing the force she gets when she swings the belt is another matter entirely.
There's no warning before the belt is coming down against Sam's backside. Sam yelps, half from surprise but also definitely half from the pain, because Ruby's never held back with him, not once. From the first time she gripped his hair and yanked his head back, her strength has always been present and obvious, and there's never been any hint that she's considered holding back a little since Sam's only human.
But Sam can take it. He's not really only human, is he? And even if he were—what's a little pain? He can take it. He wants to take it. He wants the pain, wants to ache for days. He wants her to make him hurt in the way he deserves. He needs it. And Ruby is all too happy to provide.
"One," Sam says, hands flexing instinctively. "Thank you."
There's a small pause, the air thick with satisfaction, and Sam's cheeks heat with slight embarrassment. If anyone else ever heard him thanking a demon for hitting his ass with his own belt, he'd— Well, he doesn't really know what he'd do, or what they'd do, but he knows it wouldn't be fucking good. Hunters would distrust him more than they already do.
The belt comes down again, right over the meat of his ass. Ruby delivers another blow in quick succession, and then a third, and then a fourth, all over the exact same strip of skin. It has Sam whining into his pillow, sucking in sharp breaths, blinking rapidly as his eyes sting with tears. It hurts, his ass burning, and he barely manages to stutter out, "Two, Three, Four, F-five, thank you," as quick as he can, knowing Ruby will only belt him more if he misses the count.
"Good," Ruby praises, but Sam can't take any comfort from it, tensing up instead, because he knows she's not done speaking. "There you go, my good little pain slut. Such a whore for this, aren't you?"
Sam breathes heavily, closing his eyes, trying to regain his bearings. It's only been five strikes so far, he needs to get a hold of himself. There are so many more to come.
The belt snaps through the air and hits the soft flesh of the inside of Sam's thighs, and he shouts, jerking on the bed. Another one follows, right in the same spot, and then another. Her aim's always been impressive. Hurts like a fucking bitch.
"I said," Ruby says once she's delivered the blows, her tone nearly mild, "aren't you such a whore for this?"
"Yes," Sam pants, cheeks burning even hotter. He has to agree, always so much worse if he doesn't. And it...it's basically true, isn't it? He is a whore, a pain slut. He always spreads his legs when she tells him to, always lets her hurt him in whatever way she wants. What is that, if not exactly what she said? "I'm—yes."
"That's right," Ruby says, and the approval in her voice this time is something Sam can take comfort from. "Why don't you say it for me, baby? What are you?"
Sam's mouth opens and closes a few times, the words sticking in his throat, refusing to come out. He doesn't like the words. He never has. Has always struggled so much more with having to actually say them than just agreeing with what Ruby says. That's still—still humiliating, but it's not the same.
And that's why Ruby always likes having him do it. Because it's hard for him. Because it takes the degradation to a whole new level. Because it makes him feel ugly inside.
Ruby sighs when Sam fails to speak, and the sound makes Sam cringe. He hates disappointing her. He's always such a fucking disappointment; was to Dad, to Jess, to Dean—always fails everyone in his life. Always lets them down in the end. It's why he needs this. It's why he needs Ruby to push him, to punish him. It's not right that he's here and they're all gone when it's him that's the problem. And Ruby is just...helping.
"Alrighty, Sam," Ruby says. "Not there yet, hm? Need me to take you a little higher before you can admit the truth? I can do that no problem."
The truth. The truth the truth the truth. Is that the truth of him? Yes, yes of course it is, he knows it is. Why else would he have let her tie him to the bed and use his body to her own ends? Always a whore, a pain slut.
But he can't get the words out.
Ruby hits him again, the thick leather belt slapping hard against his flesh and making him shout. She doesn't stop, doesn't give him time to get his breath enough to even keep the count she usually loves having him do. She hits him and hits him and hits him, varying the placement of her strikes from the line of his shoulders down to the soles of his feet.
He knows how much damage she could do to him, just like this. She could break him. She could make it so he never walks properly again, or never lifts his arm without pain. Just a little harder, just a little more brutal—and there Sam Winchester is with a physical deformity to match the one in his blood.
It...scares him a little, that he'd let her do that, if she wanted to. As long as it doesn't stop him from being able to kill Lilith, then...then does it matter? Does any piece of his body matter one little bit? He deserves it, anyway. He got Dad and Jess killed, and so many others. He's the reason Dean's in Hell. So much suffering on his shoulders. It's only fair he gets a little in return.
He starts screaming at some point, he isn't sure when. All of him hurts. His entire body is on fire, and he's sure that she's broken skin in a few different places—wouldn't be the first time, but still hurts so much to have happen. You have to be hit really hard with a belt, for it to draw blood. You—you have to be hit really hard.
"Please," Sam chokes out, tears streaming down his face. He doesn't know how many strikes they've reached, but it's—it's a lot. It's too much. "Ruby, stop, I—" What's the word, Jesus fuck, what the fucking word? It—it is— "Sunshine! Sunshine, Ruby, sunsh—ah!"
There's not even a millisecond of pause. Sunshine means stop, sunshine means stop, but Ruby doesn't. She keeps hitting him with the belt. He doesn't understand, she's the one who made him pick a word in the first place, why would she do that if she wasn't going to listen?
"Oh, come on," Ruby says derisively, not even out of breath despite how long and how hard she's been beating him. "Don't be a fucking baby, Sam. You can take this, and you will. You know why? Because I want you to. Because you're my bitch and you do what I say. We're done when I say we're done."
Tears make his face and the pillow beneath his head damp. He's yanking against the ropes around his wrists and ankles, unable to stop himself. He—he wants to listen, he does. But there reaches a point of pain where conscious thought goes out the window and you just want to escape.
He doesn't know how much longer it goes on before the strikes finally stop coming. He doesn't even notice at first, once it's ended; his body is like an inferno, burning and aching and screaming at him, pain all over, so the lack of new pain on top of it takes a moment to register. Once it does, though, he slumps in full-bodied relief, crying openly and shaking like a leaf. It's over. It's finally over. He did it. She said he could, said he would, and he did.
The bed dips as Ruby climbs onto it, and Sam whimpers when her settling between his spread thighs brushes up against abused skin, setting the areas re-ablaze. He's so sensitive. He feels like even a gentle touch right now would hurt like a bitch.
Ruby hums, pleased, and Sam can feel her eyes on him, dragging up and down his body hungrily. Her hands settle on his hips, and then slide up to rub over the swell of his ass. He whines a complaint, the touch hurting, but Ruby only chuckles and keeps rubbing at his abused flesh. She does it over his ass, his back, his thighs, clearly enjoying the way Sam whimpers and whines and cries out, helpless and stuck still for her to do whatever she likes with.
Her bitch, just like she said.
"There, see?" Ruby says, her voice practically a purr. "Just like I told you." She leans down, hands kneading at his aching shoulders and mouth brushing over the shell of his ear. She's naked, he can feel. It sends a shiver down his spine.
"Now," she says, nipping at his earlobe, "what are you, baby?"
Sam's breath hitches, but he speaks anyway. "A bitch. Your bitch."
Why resist? It only ever hurts.
"And what else?"
Sam swallows. "Pain slut. Whore. I—please, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
He doesn't know what he's apologizing for, or who he's even apologizing to. Ruby, for not following instructions the first time? Dean, John, Mary, Jess, for getting them all killed simply by being alive? Too many to count. Too many people he should drop to his knees before and beg for forgiveness he doesn't deserve.
But that's why he's here. Ruby's going to help him get strong enough to kill Lilith, and she's going to bend him over whenever she likes and take what she wants from his body, because that's what he deserves and she knows it.
Ruby coos at him. "It's okay, baby. It's okay to be those things, as long as you know what you are, hm?"
It's not rhetorical, so Sam nods miserably in agreement. Ruby pats the top of his head comfortingly. It feels embarrassing for some reason Sam can't identify.
"You did good," she says. "Being such a good little whore for me. Ready for the next part?"
Sam doesn't really want to have sex right now. All of him hurts, and he just wants to curl into a ball and ignore the fact that the world exists, at least for a little while. But that would be rude. Cutting stuff like this off right after the foreplay is just being a tease, and no one likes a tease, especially when it's a slut acting like one. Ruby's told him that enough.
"Okay," he says, and Ruby hums her approval, straightening up again. There's some faint rustle, the sound of buckles clinking into place that Sam recognizes as Ruby putting on her strap, and then there are two fingers piercing into Sam's cunt.
Sam yelps, legs kicking as much as they can with his ankles bound to the footposts, eyes going wide. Now his insides ache, too; he isn't wet at all, not aroused from the belting, so he's too dry and too tight for Ruby to do this so suddenly.
Ruby clicks her tongue, beginning to slowly drag her fingers in and out of his cunt. "Your stupid little pussy doesn't seem to know what to do," she says. "You think it would know how to be ready for me by now, but I guess it's a difficult bitch just like you."
Humiliation burns in Sam's gut, and there's something—hurt in there, too, though he doesn't know why he feels that way. She isn't saying anything that isn't true. He is a difficult bitch. Was a difficult kid, and a difficult teen, and a difficult adult, and now he can add sex to that list.
(He wasn't difficult with Jess. At least, she never said. She never seemed...upset with him, like this. Not even if some nights he just couldn't get it up, not even for her. She never said he had a stupid pussy. Never said he was a bitch. She always smiled at him like...
But what does that matter, really, nowadays? He got her killed. That's all that matters.)
"'M sorry," Sam mumbles, because it feels like he should, and he thinks he hears Ruby snort. Her thumb rubs over Sam's clit, her fingers still working inside of him, and slowly Sam can feel himself getting wet, arousal pooling beside the lingering humiliation in his gut.
"There we go," Ruby says, sounding pleased. "You always come around eventually, don't you? Even if you have to be led there by a leash, like a big dumb animal."
Even as the words make him want to hide, he moans, her movements finally feeling good even if the ache is still present too. This time he's sure he hears her snort, a derisive noise at his pleasure.
"Yeah, I know, baby. I know how hungry you are for it. See how nicely your pussy's taking me in now? You might act like a shy bitch but you really are a slut, just like you said."
Ruby's fingers pull out just as suddenly as they went in, and then there's the sound of a knife being pulled free of a sheath. Sam goes rigid, panic instantly rising, but Ruby doesn't start cutting into him, or into herself. Instead, she slices through the ropes binding his ankles to the end of the bed, releasing his legs.
He's confused for all of two seconds before Ruby's saying, "Why don't you show me your pretty little pussy, baby? Present for me."
Sam's face is on fire. He doesn't know how she keeps managing to surprise him, to find new ways to make him feel even more humiliated than he already does. Present for me. Like Sam's just a bitch in heat, ready to be taken. Nothing more than Ruby's dog.
But no matter how sick with himself he feels, he follows the instruction. He slowly pulls his knees up under his chest and then pushes upward, lifting his ass in the air. He has to spread his legs to keep balance, and, with his arms tied up above him and head still on the pillow, the position feels extremely obscene. He can only imagine what kind of picture he makes.
No, he doesn't have to imagine it. He knows what he looks like. He looks like a desperate whore.
Ruby's fingers—still slick from having been inside him—rub over the folds of his cunt, then push them apart, tug on them, repeat the actions. It's like she's just playing with them, like Sam's cunt is nothing more than a toy for her to use.
"Such a cute little pussy," Ruby says, and Sam can hear the smile in her voice. "My baby girl makes such a nice view."
Sam tenses at the term. He doesn't like when she does this, when she leans into all the 'girl' stuff because of his cunt. She doesn't always do it, but she—she does it enough. And honestly, it's far from the worst thing she's done to him, so it really shouldn't matter. It shouldn't. It—it doesn't, really. He's just overreacting. It's fine. It's just words.
Ruby takes Sam's enlarged clit between her thumb and pointer finger and strokes it a few times, making pleasure spark up Sam's spine, and he moans.
"You like when I touch you like this?" Ruby murmurs, and Sam nods, because it does feel good, despite everything else. "What am I touching, baby? What do you like me jerking off?"
There's a sour taste on Sam's tongue. He knows the words she's looking for. "Ruby..."
"Ah, ah, ah," Ruby interrupts, still stroking him, making it hard to focus on the conversation at hand. "I can grab the belt again if you're gonna go back to being whiny."
Sam swallows. He really doesn't want that. "You're...you're touching my—" He doesn't like it, he doesn't want to call it this, "—my...girlcock."
"That's right," Ruby says, sounding so damn pleased. "Pretty little girl cock for my pretty baby girl. Gonna have to put you in a skirt next time, baby. And some nice lacy panties. Oh, would be so fun to bend you over a desk, flip your skirt up, then push your panties to the side so I can fuck your little pussy nice and hard."
Honestly, Sam wouldn't put it past her to make that sex talk fantasy a reality.
"Wish I could fill you up with a load of my cum, leaving you dripping the way a good slut should for her owner. Maybe I'll have to buy one of those strap-ons with the artificial cum, hm? That way I can stuff you full."
Sam breathes shakily into his pillow. A sudden swat to the ass makes him yelp.
"Hope you're not checking out on me, sweetheart. I want to know how that sounds."
"Sounds good," Sam says, because that's—because it is what it is. If Ruby wants it, then...then they'll do it. And Sam will take it, just like he always takes everything she does. He deserves everything she can dish out, no matter how uncomfortable.
The only warning that things are changing that Sam gets is Ruby letting go of his clit, and then the head of her strap-on is nudging at the folds of his cunt and then pushing inside in one smooth, steady stroke. It's too much too fast, her large dick forcing his cunt wide. She barely fingered him before, he wasn't ready for this. His hips instinctively try to move forward to escape the assault, and she grabs onto them to yank him back into place, forcing him to stay still and take inch by inch of her strap.
Sam gasps once he feels her hips pressing against his ass, finally sheathed to the hilt inside of him. She really did choose her biggest one for this, like she knew how extra big it would feel after belting him so hard and for so long. Every touch of her against his abused skin lights the wounds up all over again.
He wonders, distantly, if there's blood on her hands from stroking over his skin. He knows there are some open wounds, after all. Though, it's not like she'd mind. Ruby's never shied away from a little blood, especially not Sam's.
"Taking it like a pro," Ruby says, grin audible.
She starts fucking him, rough and dirty just like everything else she's done tonight. She snaps her hips, fucking hard and deep into his cunt, splitting him open wide and giving him no ability to catch his breath or brace, no matter how he tries. He finally has to give up and just accept that she's going to overwhelm him, that there really is nothing he can do but be a hole for her to fuck.
"You really do make a damn good whore," Ruby says on a groan, and changes the angle of her next thrust, making it hit Sam's g-spot and dragging a moan out of him. "Fuck, yeah you do. People would line up around the block for a chance to get a piece of you. I could charge top dollar. Maybe I will, someday. Everybody wants to be inside of Sam Winchester."
The words make Sam feel unsettled, not quite right in his skin, and not even because of the sex part. There's just something about the way she said 'everybody wants to be inside of Sam Winchester' that felt—he doesn't even know. He's being crazy. It doesn't matter.
Ruby fucks him hard, rocking Sam sharply back and forth. He's started to adjust to it now, and he tries to relax—it does feel good, after all. It's feeling good now. So he really doesn't know what he was complaining about before. Ruby might hurt him, but he deserves it, and she always makes him feel good after. There's a lot worse she could do.
"What are you?" Ruby asks, demands, panting, and Sam forces his tongue to unglue from the roof of his mouth.
"A whore," Sam says, and then moans as she reaches a hand down to tug at his clit. "Just—just a whore, a bitch, a little slut made for—made for fucking. Useless, worthless, can't do anything right, failure, get everyone killed, got Dean killed, don't deserve anything but this, deserve worse—"
He's panicking, spiraling, moving away from the things she likes, the sex things he is. She doesn't want to hear his self-pity. She wants to hear him tell her how much of a hungry slut he is.
And yet, Ruby moans, long and loud.
"That's right, baby girl," she says on a groan. "My broken, desperate, whiny little whore, aren't you? Would let me do whatever the fuck I wanted to you and still say 'thank you' after, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah," Sam agrees, voice barely more than a whisper, because it's true.
Ruby's free hand clamps down on Sam's neck and shoves his face into the pillow, covering his mouth and nose. Instantly, he can't breathe, but he holds still and doesn't fight, whimpering as she fucks him hard into the mattress. It feels good. And he's being good. He can do this.
His lungs start to burn soon enough, but he forces himself still. Ruby is muttering above him, and every stray word Sam catches is just as degrading as the last.
The burn starts to grow, and he forces himself still and still and still until he simply can't anymore, until instinct takes over and he starts jerking against her hold, trying to toss her off, working as hard as he can to get his face free so he can breathe.
But Ruby's a lot stronger than him, and only holds him down harder. She never stops fucking him, doesn't stop jerking off his clit. The mix of pain and pleasure is both confusing and familiar, and it's all he can focus on as black spots begin to dance in front of his eyes.
Moments before he passes out, Ruby finally changes gears. Her hand shifts up to tangle in his hair and she yanks his head up. His jaw drops open to suck in a desperate breath, and the rush of air makes him dizzy, feels like a rush of endorphins.
He comes right then, clenching down around Ruby's strap even as the rest of his body goes absolutely boneless.
Everything else kind of—drifts, after that, the world feeling very far away. She stops fucking him at some point after what feels like ages more, and then unties him and rolls him over onto his front. Distantly, he feels the ache all along his backside that that action causes.
Ruby's face swims into his vision, and Sam blinks tiredly up at her, still feeling like he's floating. He can see her smile, but his distorted vision makes it seem a little too wide and too sharp.
A delicate, strong finger strokes down the side of Sam's face.
"So good for me, Sammy," she murmurs. "Obedience is a really good look on you. I know he'll appreciate it."
Sam doesn't know who 'he' is, and right now, he doesn't really care. He lets sleep take him gratefully.