Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He woke to a not totally unpleasant sensation. There was a finger in his ass, sliding in nice and smooth like it belonged there. Dean tried to remember where he was, what bar he frequented and just who he may have brought back to the room with him. He shifted just a little and was hit with another sensation, one decidedly less pleasant. The ache in his head was low and dull, not unbearably so, but definitely distracted from the pleasure in his backside. He must have had more to drink than he thought. Dean felt warm wet pressure at his neck and a hand wrapped around his cock. Another set of hands stroked up his chest. Hands. Too many hands. Drowsiness faded in an instant as he jerked awake, only to find himself unable to move at all.

"Well look who decided to wake up and join the party," A smug voice said.

Dean looked at he man kneeling in front of him and recognized him as the guy from the next room who'd been outside for a smoke when he'd checked in earlier. The guy that currently had his finger in Dean's ass and had been working him open for some time by the ease in which he fucked a second finger right in next to the first. He tugged on Dean's semi-hard cock with a smirk.

It broke through the delayed haze of shock and Dean surged, ready to fight and kick and maim. He heard the muffled sound of his efforts distantly as strong arms tightened around his waist and held him completely immobile. He had no leverage with his hands tied behind his back and his knees spread wide open on someone's lap. The smug asshole in front of him held one knee secure but apparently was confident in his friend's ability to subdue him because he didn't bother to remove his fingers.

Dean threw his head back with a cry but the guy had been expecting it. It wasn't until that moment that he realized he was gagged. A large hand wrapped around his throat with just enough pressure to get his attention. He froze, every muscle strung tight, panting around the material in his mouth.

"Calm down, sweetheart," hot breath and a deep voice whispered into his ear. "We're just having a little fun. Don't want things to ugly now, do we?"

Dean's chest heaved; he could feel panic clawing its way through him even as his mind told him this couldn't be happening.

"You just sit there and look pretty while we play with you and you'll walk out of this just fine."

His mind raced, trying to formulate a plan.

The finger inside of him started to move again, thrusting and invasive.

Dean struggled again. The hand tightened around his neck and the arm around his waist. He thrashed and squirmed but he had nowhere to go and all he succeeded in doing was tiring himself out. The fingers moved with him, speeding up as he fought, slowing when he collapsed against the broad chest behind him. His head throbbed in time with his heart.

Sensing he'd lost a bit of his fight, the hands that held him started to roam again. On principle, Dean tried to twist free but it was a pitiful attempt and only amused his captors. The guy holding him actually nuzzled his neck with a chuckle and the one between his legs smugly scissored his fingers. Dean's dick had wilted with the struggle but the constant thrusting into his ass had it perking again, if only slightly.

The guy in front of him toyed with it, stroking and pulling, trying to get a rise out of Dean in more way than one. Huge, rough hands smoothed over his abs and up the middle of his chest before scraping over unsuspecting nipples. Dean's brain nearly short circuited. A spark of electricity shot straight to his groin and his hips jerked as if they were tied to his nipples by an invisible trip wire. The hands stopped their downward slide and made their way back, rubbing over the perked nubs again, experimentally. Dean heard himself groan and bit it off, horrified. An amazing fucking tingle radiated from beneath the surface of the pebbled skin and danced along sensitive nerve endings. He felt his nipples go hard and tight in anticipation, a faint echo tingling its way to his dick and stretched out hole.

Gentle pressure between thumb and finger on one nub and then the other had Dean nearly senseless as a gush of warmth spread downward to pool at the base of his spine. His fucking legs actually relaxed, dick twitching in that smug bastard's hand as he arched into the contact - an involuntary reaction completely beyond his control.

"Jesus, Dale" the guy on his knees said. "His eyes are practically rolling."

Deft fingertips pressed into the muscle around his nipple with just the right amount of pressure and began to knead.

Dean whimpered and went boneless, desperate for more of that glorious contact and simultaneously sickened and aroused by it. He'd always had sensitive nipples and liked having them played with. A lot. Women very rarely returned the favor and he'd never dared ask for more than what his few male partners had offered. He could easily have them toyed with for hours and be okay with it. This wasn't exactly what he had in mind though.

"Got ourselves a little nipple whore," Dale said as he stopped kneading and grazed each bud with the edge of his thumb like he was strumming a guitar. To his utter shame, Dean arched into it, neck stretched back over Dale's shoulder. He was rewarded with a sharp teasing tweak.

God, he wanted fucking more of that.

Dean keened around the gag, bucking into the proprietary hand that wrapped around his dick in hopes that he'd be rewarded.

"Add another finger, Billy," Dale ordered, "open him up nice and good. Just gotta keep playing with his tits and he'll do whatever we want."

Dean's face burned even as he felt of the truth of the words coil in his balls. Christ, if they untied him right now he'd probably lie right there with is arms thrown over his head and his legs spread so long as Dale kept working his nubs.

He hissed at the burn as another finger breached him.

"None of that," Billy jacked his dick as it started to flag. Dale tugged on both his nipples at the same time. Dean cried out, thrashing between them, humiliated and absolutely mortified to find himself aroused by it.

As if to test his earlier assessment of Dean’s nipple whore status, Dale released Dean's stiff buds experimentally. Dean panted against him open mouthed, the cloudy haze of helpless arousal lifting almost immediately. He struggled for release, despite the hold his captors kept on him, only to collapse back against the broad chest as big hands cupped his pecs as if they were breasts. Dean groaned and pushed into the contact, seeking more of that blessed friction as his tits were fondled, the inside of thick, blunt fingers swirling over aching buds.

"You're not going anywhere, sweetheart," Dale reminded him. "I could do this all night."

The flash of panic he felt at the words was overridden by a desperate oh, please as tiny pinpricks of pleasure zinged along hyper-sensitive nerves. It wasn’t that he didn't care what else they did to him, he did, but fuck no one, no one, had touched him like this before. No one had ever made him surrender, without his permission, by using his own body against him.

Dale leaned back a little and Billy released Dean’s dick. It bobbed between them, hard, flushed and weeping.

"Put the tip of his cock into your mouth," Dale ordered.

"Hmmmph," Billy sucked it free of precome and snaked his tongue around the flared head before complying.

The ever present fingers in his ass paused as the moist heat of Billy's mouth enveloped the end of his cock.

Dale began to knead again, rolling and pressing with his fingertips around cherry dark circles until Dean was pressing up to meet him.

"Fuck, you're a sweet find, kid," Dale breathed.

Pinching wide to encompass the entire nub, Dale squeezed gently and pulled one nipple, squeezed and pulled the other, back and forth, one and then the other. Alternating. Squeeze. Pull. Squeeze. Pull.

Gasping around the gag, Dean's hips jerked. Dale applied more pressure, tugged a little harder and before Dean knew it he was thrusting into Billy's mouth like he wanted it. He heard the man hum in satisfaction, felt it vibrate up the length of his dick.

Billy suckled the tip and released him with a pop. Dean continued to thrust into open air, hips twitching against his will as Dale breathed hot and heavy in his ear. "Yeah, baby. Suck it, Billy."

Billy didn't have to do much of anything, save for open wide. Dale played Dean like such a finely tuned instrument that he fucked his cock right into the smug bastard's mouth. He watched the swollen tip glide in and out, slick and shiny with precome and mixed with Billy's spit. Dean turned his head away.

"Got your nipple cherry, didn't I?" Dale's lips touched his hear. "Had no idea what a slut you were for it, did ya?"

Dean had no answer for that. Nothing could have prepared him for this. Dale obviously wasn’t expecting an answer anyways, the man adding a twist to the squeeze and pull of Dean’s nipples that had Dean making a desperate noise in the back of his throat.

"You should see yourself," Dale's voice was rough with lust. "So hot for it."

Fuck if Dean didn't rally against that inside even as he felt his cock ooze into Billy's mouth.

Dean’s lips went lax around the gag as Billy began a smooth, shallow glide in and out of his ass again. He could feel the pressure building and fought against it. Getting off inside that doucebag's mouth would be like the ultimate surrender.

Dale had other ideas.

"Gonna milk your titties till you blow, sweetheart," he said, as if sensing Dean's intentions. "Don't fight it."

Dean moaned and felt his dick grow rock hard, his nipples so tight they felt sharp, the comment sending an unexpected wave of heat through him.

"Yeah," Dale flicked a thumb over his nubs, "baby likes that."

It sent a jolt to his hips and they hiccupped, cock pumping into Billy's mouth. The young man laved at his tip, tongue flitting and swirling over flushed skin and probing into his slit, hungry for it.

Dean's head thrashed in an attempt to stave off the impending orgasm, but he couldn't help himself. Couldn't fight his body's natural response. He heard the muffled sound of needy whimpers and realized that it was him. His hips twitched and he stilled, just for a moment, the tip of his nipples cradled between thick fingers, the slit of his cock tongue fucked by the smug asshole he'd actually given a friendly nod to on his way in. Dean’s eyes rolled, lashes fluttering as he mewled, actually fucking mewled, at the force of the orgasm that ripped through him. His body shuddered, hips jerking in small uncontrollable spasms as Dale finger fucked his tits, milking large spurts of white-hot come into Billy’s mouth.

Billy actually closed his eyes and suckled him, free hand wrapping around the base of his dick as the fingers shoved in Dean's ass slowed and then slid free to cup his balls. Dean could do nothing but pant and twitch as every last trace of come was worked from his cock. He was soft and squishy in Billy's mouth when the other man finally released him. Dale stroked his over-sensitive nipples softly, tracing and grazing, keeping them pert and interested with gentle pinches that made them tingle but didn't overwhelm. Dean felt like a kitten or a puppy with its belly being stroked.

Billy slurped his way down to Deans balls and mouthed them, sucking on the loose sac, tugging them away from his body. He used his tongue to toy with them, gazing up at Dean every so often with smug satisfaction. When he closed his eyes to block out the image, Billy tugged his hips forward on Dale's lap and despite the awkward angle of his neck, snaked his tongue into Dean's stretched out hole.

It was a different sensation from when he used his fingers. The nerve endings in his dick and his ass both seemed to be hotwired to his nipples. Every touch was magnified, spreading glorious warmth in rolling waves to his groin. Billy's slick tongue licked into him, lewd and invasive, strong and insistent. Dean tightened his legs, lifting himself slightly. Billy fucked up into him. Accustomed to the gentle petting of his chest, Dean gasped in surprise as Dale flicked one of his nipples. It sent a flare of pain laced pleasure to his still recovering cock. Dean arched his back, anticipating another, tight tits straining for more.

It was too early for him to get hard again but between them they had him lightly bouncing on Dale's lap, fucking himself on Billy's tongue, flaccid dick jiggling against a dark nest of curls. He'd never felt so used, helpless...or aroused in his life. It was a very conflicting and unpleasant feeling. One he wouldn't get a chance to analyze just now.

Before he realized what was happening, Dale's arm wrapped around his waist and he was being lifted. Dean tensed, on the verge of struggling when he was unceremoniously dumped on the bed. Hands tied behind his back, he kicked out with his legs. They were ready for it, Dale and Billy both catching and holding his legs just below the knee. It was useless to struggle, but he did it anyway. Stretching out on either side of him they each threw a leg over his, pinning him to the bed.

 

It felt like an electrical surge when their mouths latched onto his nipples, the pleasure of being suckled like a sharp current that shorted out every other sensation. Dean went from fighting to moaning so quickly it would take days for the shame to catch up with him. They laughed at him, teasing his "slutty" tits until he was thrusting into their mouths like the nipple whore he was. Releasing his legs, the men each hooked a knee and spread him open, two different fingers pushing into him until his cock was hard and bobbing between them.

They took turns fucking him and Dean hated them. Hated them even as he bucked into their hands and mouths, hated them a little bit more every time they used his tits to milk his cock. He hated them enough to plan several ways to kill them slowly when they finally understood that he had to pee and forced him to do so while Billy held his dick and Dale rubbed ever so talented fingers over chaffing nubs. Dean was nearly consumed with equal parts arousal and mortification as they pressed his face into the mattress and ate at his ass, tugging at his cock and nipples like teats, and praising him for being such a slutty cow.

They fucked him over the table, on the floor, against the wall and in the shower - and Dean reluctantly spread his legs each and every time with nothing more than a tweak of his nipple. He didn’t remember falling asleep before dawn, only that he was exhausted and that he'd lost track of how many times they'd gotten him off. He woke stiff and sore, pecs feeling bruised from hours of constant stimulation. Stretched out on the bed his hands were no longer tied behind his back but over his head. He heard the distant murmur of low voices, felt his legs parted at the knee and his balls engulfed in a moist, sweaty hand.

Dean opened his eyes to find the motel manager between his legs. The guy had kind of given him the creeps when he'd checked in yesterday but that wasn't uncommon in some of these places so he hadn't thought much about it. He did now. Middle aged, portly and balding the man eyed him as if he were part of an all-you-can-eat buffet, rolling Dean’s sac in his hand. Dean pulled against the belt strapped around his wrists and thrashed, trying to get some leverage. The man's hot, eager mouth covered his breast, tongue lapping like an excited puppy at the hard, stiff peak. Sore as he was, Dean felt the throbbing ache beneath his tit blossom into a wave of exquisite pleasure. He pushed into the man's mouth with a moan, eyes open long enough to see Billy and Dale slip from his room, Billy pausing to give him a wink over the manager’s shoulder before the door clicked shut behind him.

Dean was powerless to do anything but fuck into the meaty fist that wrapped around his cock.

End.

Chapter Text

Dale released Dean's nipple from his mouth and blew a breath of cool air over moist flesh. The other he continued to twist gently between his fingers, sending muted jolts of sweet pleasure to Dean's cock. Billy was between his legs, keeping them wide as he sucked on Dean’s balls, thumb bluntly toying with his hole. He was flat on his back, hands tied and trapped beneath him. Dean wanted to close his legs, but the pressure on his nipples kept them spread just as sure as Billy's grip on the inside of his thigh.

Dale lifted his head, caught Dean's gaze and lightly pinched a traitorous nub. Dean whimpered into the gag, lashes fluttering. Dale did it again, eyes hazed with heat as Dean made small, helpless noises at the back of his throat each time. He gave Dean a devilish, unrepentant smile.

"You're gonna remember me for a long time, sweetheart," Dale informed him. "The next time you wake up with your dick in your hand and your tits hard and aching, you're gonna think of me."

Dean closed his eyes in denial at the words and the chuckle that followed, gasping as the big man tongued the stiff peak and left a thick swath of saliva on it that disgusted him even as the feel of it cooling on his skin caused his dick to tingle.

"The next time someone tugs on these slutty little teats and makes you come...you'll think of me."

Dale pulled on them to make his point and Dean groaned, arching his back and neck. Billy laughed around his balls as Dean's legs went lax and loose.

Dale teased the tip of each tit, grazing and rubbing at them as Dean panted with his legs spread. He did, he felt like such a slut. As much as his mind did not want this, his body so very much did. A complex mixture of humiliation and arousal was pushed to the background as he was forced to submit to the primal pleasure of his body and the embarrassingly hot manipulation of his nipples.

The tip of Dale's fingers were thick and rough, so big and yet so gentle as they cradled his buds. There was just something about those large hands that fueled his response and Dean found himself straining for more, back arched as far as his position would allow. Dale huffed a laught at him again, but Dean found it hard to care as heavy fingers scraped over tight, rock hard nipples.

"Like that, sweetheart?" Dale asked, a knowing smile to his voice. "How 'bout this?"

Fingers tightly woven, Dale delivered a small, sharp slap to the unsuspecting nub. Dean’s cry was muffled by the gag, his hips jerking. Billy mouthed at him hungrily as Dale slapped the bud again, Dean’s cock weeping as it bounced.

 

"Come on up here and take his other tit, Billy," Dale said with a glance at Dean's dick, "he's close."

Climbing up next to him, Billy tongued his nipple before fingering it roughly, pinching and rolling it between his thumb and index finger. Dean hissed even as he arched into it. Dale played gently with the other one, kneading and tugging with just the right amount of pressure. The dual sensation was too much. Dean bucked and surged beneath their hands. Billy's touch hard and greedy, grounding him, making him want to fight. Dale's touch was so very much worse because it undid him completely, made him want to beg for more...and the fucker could see it in his eyes.

Dean moaned, tossing his head, hips stuttering as his tits were mercilessly tugged, twisted and toyed with. He wanted to get off so bad he could taste it. He just needed something, anything to rut against. Both Dale and Billy seemed to enjoy his desperation, watching his dick bob and bounce as he thrust into open air.

"Blow that sweet load, darling," Dale stroked and swirled the pad of his thumb over Dean's aching nipple, using the edge to flick it roughly over and over again as Billy pinched and pulled.

The sobbing whimper that escaped him was as involuntary as the forceful spurt of come that erupted from him, splashes of warmth hitting his chest and beneath his chin. Dean's body seized at the force of the orgasm, twitching helplessly. Dale smeared some jizz over his nub and pulled it into his mouth as Billy moved quickly to suckle his pulsing cock, slipping a finger into his ass to milk every last drop from of him.

It took a lot out of him. Dean was boneless and breathless as they lapped him clean, sated in a way that made him tired. He must have faded for a moment or two because when he came to he was being flipped to his stomach. Dale's large hands wrapped around his hips and pulled upward. Dean brought his knees up instinctively. Faced pushed into the mattress, ass in the air, he knew how exposed and vulnerable he looked.

Billy stuffed his tongue into Dean's hole, forceful and lewd, a hungry growl at the back of his throat as Dale slipped his fingers between Dean and the bedding and took hold of his nipples again.

Dean could do nothing but take it, gasping into the scratchy bedspread as his ass was plundered.

Billy tugged on Dean's soft cock, batting it around between his legs, wiggling and playing with it. Dean groaned, face flaming at the indignity and violation to his body, a small, reluctant part of him acknowledging the flash of heat in his groin. Dean couldn't help but wonder what the fuck was wrong with him as a bright spark of arousal lit deep within him at the thought of being so carelessly used and toyed with.

Billy wiggled his cock again, hand a loose circle around the shrunken appendage. Dean couldn't help himself. He moaned and thrust his hips, dipping his flaccid dick into the small hole provided, humping desperately into Billy's hand.

"Yeah," Dale's breath fast and uneven in his ear as he continued to pull on Dean's tits, "little slut's loving it, aren't you baby?"

Dean shook his head as much as his pinned position would allow, but the noises he made as he mindlessly fucked his dangling dick into Billy's hand said otherwise.

It would be years before Dean would fully be able to admit that he actually got off on being helpless and used. Dale and Billy were the first strangers, but they would not be the last to forcefully fondle an orgasm from him. And if Dean thought it was hot, and he did, deep down where he couldn't quite admit it to himself…they had nothing on his soulless baby brother.

Chapter Text

Dean arched into the manager’s hungry mouth as his tight nub was suckled. The little bud felt raw and bruised from so much constant stimulation, but underneath that was a throbbing, achy need that he didn't understand, nor seem to have any control over. He was sickened by the large, sweaty hand that engulfed his cock, but couldn't deny how good it felt to have something to thrust into as his tit was sucked. Tired, he pumped almost lazily into to man's hand as they guy moaned and grunted his pleasure into Dean's breast.

The fat, heavy tongue rolled over the hard peak in quick eager flicks. Dean could feel the tingle all the way to his balls. His hips stuttered and his breath quickened. The manager laved at him excitedly and tugged on his dick, encouraged by his response. A new and different mouth on his nub renewed Dean's immediate arousal and his body thrummed with sudden want.

He hitched his shoulder, thrusting his tit into the man's mouth as his legs fell open in invitation. Opening his legs so willingly still made him feel like a slut, but he didn't care when he was this hot for it. He rolled his hips, whimpering, needing his hole stuffed and hoping the man would take the hint.

"Yeah," the manager breathed, skimming a beefy hand down over Dean's dick and balls and cupping the crevice of his ass, running a light finger over his hole. "Such a pretty hungry baby, aren't you?"

Dean whimpered around the gag.

"You want this?" the man asked, probing at Dean's hole with the blunt end of his finger.

Please.

The tip of a thick finger breached him. Dean's mouth fell open in a pant. He needed more. The manager flicked his tongue at the nipple that Dean offered as it rose and fell with each breath.

"You willing to give me something in return, pretty baby?" he asked, thrusting in small, slow increments.

It didn't fill that need. He bucked, head thrashing, silently begging.

"You just nod for me and I'll give you what you need," the manager slowed, stopped thrusting, tip of his finger resting just inside the ring of muscle.

Dean nodded, anything, he'd agree to anything to keep that finger moving.

"That's good, baby," he said, sliding deeper into Dean's ass, still slick with Billy's last load of come. "You do exactly what Ronnie says and I’ll make you feel real good."

Dean gasped in pleasure as Ronnie covered his nipple with wet warmth, finger deep and searching. Neck arched, legs splayed wide and titties pointing to the ceiling, Dean felt every inch the whore he must look. He was so used to Dale playing with one tit and sucking on the other or having a mouth on each of them that his other nipple felt sorely neglected. But then Ronnie found that sweet spot deep inside of him and he stopped thinking all together.

Despite his eagerness to sample Dean at the beginning, the man took his time and teasingly massaged Dean's prostate until he was a quivering mess, making noises that he was too far gone to care about. He sucked and nibbled on Dean's wet nipple, scraping the stubble of his chin over it every so often.

Finally, when Dean was on the verge of frustrated tears, Ronnie stuffed him full of two fingers, pumped him hard and bit into the flesh of his breast hard enough to leave teeth marks. Dean cried out, arching, hips rocking against the bed as spurts of come spattered across his abs and dribbled down his bouncing cock to settle in course hair. Boneless and breathless he lay there as Ronnie continued to suckle his tit, fingers stilled inside of him. Dean was half expecting the man to lick the come from him, but he ignored it for now. Pulling his fingers free and getting to his knees the man undid his belt and zipper and moved higher on the bed.

"Time for that something in return," he said to Dean as he pulled his dick out of his pants and hooked a finger around the gag and tugged it down over Dean's chin.

Dean turned his face away.

Ronnie roughly pinched Dean's nipple, the one that had been neglected thus far.

"Show Ronnie how the pretty baby sucks," he said, tugging and twisting the nub, pulling on it until Dean rolled to his side, making it easier for Ronnie to press the swollen head of his cock against Dean's lips.

He wasn't sure who secured the belt to the headboard and his wrists, but they'd done a damn fine job. There was no give to it at all. Dean pulled against them as Ronnie smeared precome over his mouth and chin, playing with his tit to figure out the best way to gain his compliance. Apparently Dale and Billy had shared that fact that he was a complete and utter nipple whore. Ronnie changed tactics and gentled his touch, kneading deep into his breast and rolling the furled hard flesh between his fingertips. When Dean's mouth opened of its own accord, Ronnie pushed his way in.

Dean's eyes opened, sparkling with rebellion despite the tingle of submission that flared from his tit to his dick.

"Suck," Ronnie ordered, "I guarantee you'll enjoy this much more if it’s voluntary on your part."

There was a bitter taste on Dean's tongue. He swiped it over the mound of flesh in his mouth, felt Ronnie's slit leak more into his mouth. When the hotel manager started to pull on his nipple like he was milking the little nub, it was easy for Dean to fall into the same rhythm as he suckled the flesh in his mouth.

"Fuck, you've got a mouth made for this," Ronnie's voice was fast and uneven. "Usually have to pay for someone as pretty as you."

Dean looked up at him, lips stretched around the substantial cock. He saw the heat in the man's eyes, felt a sense of empowerment as it flared when he fluttered long, dark lashes. It didn't take long at all before Ronnie was thrusting into Dean's mouth in earnest. He readied himself for the flood of come he knew was coming but the manager surprised him by pulling out at the last minute and blowing his load all over Dean's face. He dropped to his back again, blinking away drops of come from his lashes. He struggled when Ronnie put the gag back in his mouth, but it was a done deal before he could do much about it.

Ronnie ran a flat hand over his nipple, back and forth, flaccid dick still hanging from his pants.

"I’m gonna grab a couple of things from my room. Got some toys that'd be perfect for a little nipple slut like you," Ronnie said. He looked at the belt strapped around Dean's wrists and looped through the headboard. "Two minutes. Don't go getting any ideas."

He patted Dean like he was a pet then got off the bed and tucked himself back in his pants. He looked back at Dean once before letting himself out of the room. Dean waited until he heard his footsteps fade before flipping over, wiping the come from his face and stomach on the sheet as he got his knees under him and tried to work the leather around his wrists free. He pulled, slamming the headboard against the wall. For a cheap motel the fucking thing was pretty sturdy. He struggled unsuccessfully for minutes before he heard the approach of footsteps.

Ronnie eyed him suspiciously.

Dean was breathing heavier but in the same position, minus the come, when the manager came through the door. He set a box on the bed next to Dean and pulled out a chain. Dean wasn't a virgin by any means, even before the last twelve hours, but his experience with toys was very limited. He had no idea what Ronnie had in his hand until he clamped the end of the chain to one of his nubs. Dean hissed, arching, making it easier to attach the other end of the chain to his free tit. The low level of tingly pressure in his nipples rolled through to his groin and he moaned.

Ronnie produced another longer chain and attached it to the middle of the looped chain between his nipples, like a leash. He crawled between Dean's legs and gave it a tug. Dean came off the bed as far as he could with a choked cry of pleasure. Ronnie held his nipples taut, increasing the pressure, and the pleasure.

Dean keened shamelessly, offering his hole. It throbbed, aching to be filled.

"Such a needy, pretty baby," Ronnie smiled as he retrieved a plug and some lube from his box.

He slicked it up and inserted just the tip of the plug into Dean's ass. Then he took Dean's cock into his mouth and sucked on it randomly as he alternately pulled at the leash and fucked the plug in deeper. Dean tossed his head, whimpering helplessly at the tri-fold stimulation. His legs were bent and spread and it kind of concerned him that he didn't even have that instinctive urge to close them anymore, like it was totally natural to have a head or a hand between them playing or licking at his genitals.

The force of his orgasm caught him off guard and his vision whited out momentarily. When he opened his eyes, Ronnie was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Can't get it up like I used to, doll," Ronnie said almost apologetically. He got off the bed and opened the door. Between his legs, Dean could see a line of closed doors down the length of the motel and the neon 'office' sign at the end. "It's the off season. Go days sometimes without a single customer. Matter of fact, you and those two boys were the first I'd had in almost two weeks."

Dean wasn't sure exactly where this was heading.

"I'm gonna be watching you from that window," Ronnie pointed to the office. "And when I'm good and hard again I'm gonna come back and pound that sweet ass."

He walked over to the bed again, leaning in with one knee on the mattress he picked up the end of the chain resting near Dean's navel and gave a few teasing tugs. Dean didn't disappoint in his response, crying out and panting. Ronnie reached between his legs and tapped the plug.

"This should help you pass the time," Ronnie pressed something and Dean's hips jerked as tiny vibrations sparked an amazing sensation through his anus.

His tits tightened in the clamps and his soft cock gave a faint stir. Before long Dean was writhing on the bed, hips rolling, back arching as his body responded to the internal stimuli.

"Jesus, kid," Ronnie watched him, rubbing his crotch through his pants, mouth watering. "So fucking responsive."

Ronnie left, almost reluctantly, leaving the door open.

Dean had no concept of time. Occasionally he felt a warm breeze from the open door and heard the distant sound of a passing car from the highway. Once or twice he looked towards the office and could see Ronnie's silhouette in the window. The manager had a perfect view of his open legs and plugged ass. His tits were so hard they hurt and his dick had gone from flaccid to ready to rock in what had to be an amazingly short recovery period.

He'd started to whine at some point. His dick was so ready to blow but he needed something else, something more. Dean was right on the edge of coming but couldn't seem to tip himself over. Humping and grinding into the air was only creating more frustration. He opened his eyes to find Ronnie standing in the open door, leaning against the jamb, watching him. Dean wondered if the silent plea he felt was reflected in his eyes.

"Ready for me pretty baby?"

Breathing faster in anticipation, Dean's hips were practically undulating by the time Ronnie got his pants off and climbed between his legs. Whining, whimpering, all but begging to be fucked as Ronnie took the time to lube himself up, Dean howled as the plug was pulled free and the manager slammed into him.

He hooked Dean's knees over his forearms and pulled him in at the same time he gave a powerful thrust forward. It was bone deep and jarring, and exactly what Dean needed. Unable to help himself, Dean screamed around the gag as Ronnie pounded him. When the man took hold of the nipple leash and let his momentum tug slutty nubs with each hard thrust - it was too much. Dean came so hard that he blacked out for the first time in his life.

When he came to, only a minute or two later, his hole was leaking come and Ronnie was doing his best to push it back in with his finger. Dean felt soppy and loose. Used. He squirmed as Ronnie fingered the cooling mess and reached into his box again for a slightly smaller plug to keep his seed inside. The big man looked spent after his climax and actually collapsed on his back next to Dean. He brought one hand to the side of his rounded stomach and the other he settled comfortably on Dean's groin, fondling his balls lightly until he fell asleep with a light snore and no pants.

Dean may have dozed as well. He woke to the sound of a loud running motor and a "Fuck," next to him as Ronnie scrambled from the bed, looking out the window as he pulled on his pants. The door remained open, but Dean couldn't see anything.

"Fucking Pepsi guy," Ronnie cursed. He looked at Dean as he made for the door. "You keep quiet unless you want another dick in your ass, pretty boy."

As soon as the door closed behind him, Dean flipped to his stomach, got his knees and legs under him, put his feet against the wall for leverage and pulled. The slat came free with a snap. Dean was already rolling off the bed, feet hitting the floor as he made his way to his duffle, hands still bound.

He knew exactly where his gun was but had trouble getting his hands to work and his shoulders were fucking sore from being strapped over his head. Finally, he felt the familiar grip and pulled it free. He backed his way to the furthest wall from the door and held it ready. He could still hear the engine and the bass of two different voices. Reluctantly, he set the gun down on the bureau next to him and pulled the gag out of his mouth and over his head before using his teeth to loosen the leather belt around his wrists. He tossed them both on the floor and picked up the gun.

He'd bought both beer and a couple bottles of water a few miles back before checking in for the night. Billy and Dale had taken care of the beer for him but the water bottles were still full. He downed half a bottle in one long guzzle, some of it drizzling down his chin and neck as he did so.

Now that he was standing again, Dean had a powerful urge to piss. He didn't want to take the time but figured with the Pepsi guy still out there he had a few minutes. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, eyes drawn to the leash hanging from his nipples. He reached between his legs and pulled out the plug, feeling Ronnie's come ooze free as he dropped it in the sink.
Standing in the bathroom completely naked with a gun in his hand, Dean relieved himself.

The sound of a vehicle door slamming and the truck sliding into gear caught his attention. He pointed his gun at the door as it pulled away, waiting. Anxious to get back to his captive, Ronnie didn't make him wait long. The look of surprise on the manager’s face wasn't as satisfying as it would be if Dean had put a bullet into him. Admittedly, he briefly entertained the notion, but ultimately decided against it. After the initial shock, Ronnie looked more disappointed than anything.

He seemed to innately sense that Dean wasn't going to actually kill him. They stood in a silent standoff as the sound of the Pepsi truck engine faded.

Dean felt a little shaky and weak after his physically demanding night and lack of water, but the hand gripping the gun was steady. Ronnie's gaze slid over him like oil, catching on thighs slick with his come. He held his hands out in front of him, placating, as he walked further into the room. Dean tracked him with the gun.

"And we were having such fun," Ronnie said, pouty.

Dean didn't say anything.

Ronnie walked a wide circle, carefully approaching. Dean pressed his back to the wall.

"You can leave anytime you want. You're in charge. Obviously," he said with a glance at the gun. "But I think you've been enjoying yourself almost as much as I've been enjoying you."

Dean's eyes narrowed, expression hardening.

"Okay," Ronnie conceded, hands lifting a little higher, "not quite ready to admit it. No skin off my back kid."

He edged closer.

"Stop," Dean ordered.

Ronnie paused momentarily but then kept edging to Dean's left, working his way inside.

"Or what?" Ronnie asked boldly. "You gonna shoot me?"

"Maybe." Dean wanted to; he really did, but knew that he wouldn't.

"Or maybe," Ronnie carefully reached for the leash, "you're looking to finish what we started."

He gave a gentle, teasing tug on the chain. Testing.

Dean uttered a small reluctant moan, lashes fluttering.

"Little titties are hard and sore, ain't they?" Ronnie asked knowingly.

They were. The pressure of the clamps kept a constant low stoked fire smoldering just beneath the surface.

"Want Ronnie to suck them for you, pretty baby?"

Just the thought sent an undeniable tingle through each tit. It flared brightly when the leash tugged tightly furled skin. Dean gasped, drawing his shoulders back and puffing out his chest.

The gun wavered.

"'S'okay," the manager applied slight pressure to the inside of Dean's forearm, angling the gun away from him but staying well clear of the weapon. "Let Ronnie give you what you need."

Dean's breath was quick and uneven as the man continued to move closer, chest rising and falling, the undeniable urge to submit wrestling with his inner urge to fight.

He felt so filthy and wrong…couldn’t admit how much he fucking wanted it.

Ronnie didn’t wait for an invitation. Ducking his head, he covered a clamped nipple with his mouth and began to suckle. Dean gasped at the suction and then struggled, offering token resistance in a delayed reaction. The manager pressed him into the wall; leaving one nub spit covered only to latch onto the other tit until the struggle turned to a moan and Dean was all but surging into his mouth.

Gun arm over his head, Dean melted in surrender as one nipple was suckled, clamp and all, and the other was grasped and kneaded by fat, talented fingers. Dean was as much a captive as he was when tied to the bed. He couldn't move, never wanted the blessed pressure on his nips to end. His entire world narrowed down to the sparks shooting to his groin. He tried to open his legs, found it harder now that he was standing.

Without looking, Ronnie kicked the waste basket over on its side and hooked Dean's knee, elevating his foot. Licking his way to Dean’s neck and the strong line of his jaw, the manager took hold of both clamped nubs and twist-turned them gently, pulling back to look at Dean’s face as he did so. Helplessly reactionary, Dean was all rolling eyes and soft whimpers as his tits were played with.

Unable to help himself, Ronnie invaded Dean’s mouth with a slick tongue as he teased a finger into the hunter’s slippery hole. Dean arched with a breathless mewl as he was fucked at both ends, tongue and finger thrusting in time with each other as Ronnie kept steady pressure on one clamped nub.

Dean panted, spilling vulnerable baby-like sounds into the eager mouth. Grunting his approval, the hotel manager swallowed them all. He toyed with Dean, fucking deep and slow, then fast and shallow. He brought him to the edge and then eased him back down, sucking, nibbling, and devouring Dean's mouth.

Dean let him, so lost in sensation that he may have let the man ease the gun from his grip.

Luckily, Ronnie was interested in other things.

"Gotta clean my come outta your sloppy hole, doll."

He eased back slowly, removing his finger, taking the leash and pulling it taut as he stepped back - leading Dean the short distance to the bed by his tits. Ronnie ignored the gun at Dean's side completely.

"On your knees if you want my tongue in your ass," Ronnie stated.

Cock rock hard and dripping, Dean was discovering that willing and unwilling submission were both flavors of the same drug. He hesitated, feeling exposed and vulnerable but oh so very hungry for that fat tongue in his hole. He climbed onto the bed, gun in hand, and assumed the position. One of the manager’s hands settled in the small of Dean’s back, the other kneading at the firm globes of his ass before two fingers pushed inside with a wet squelching sound. The door was still open. Dean felt and heard a breeze, wondered briefly how he ended up in an abandoned motel on the back side of nowhere with his hole begging to be stuffed.

"So fucking pretty," Ronnie had parked himself in a chair behind Dean's ass. He tugged on the leash between Dean's legs until he lowered his tits to the bed, ass perched high.

Dean's mouth opened in soundless pleasure as the manager pressed his face in close and sucked on his hole. It was loud, slurpy and completely obscene, but it felt soooo fucking good that it made him lightheaded. His hips twitched, hitching back for more. Ronnie gave it to him - licking, sucking and probing - ravenous for the beautiful and bountiful feast before him.

So focused on the strong, slick muscle at his backside, Dean bucked in surprise as the manager wrapped a hand around his cock and started to jerk him off. Leash twined through meaty fingers, each stroke tugging at his nipples, Dean surrendered the last of his dignity.

"Please," he begged, whimpering into the bedding, "oh, fuck, please..."

Ronnie thrust deep into Dean's ass, sealing his lips tight around the fluttering hole as he pumped his dick. Hips seizing, jerking in small movements between the manager’s hand and mouth, Dean turned his face into the bedding to muffle his moans as yet another powerful orgasm was milked from him.

He felt completely wasted and lethargic, unable to move or even think about walking. He breathed, tried not to think of anything beyond that for now. Hands on Dean's hips, Ronnie nudged him to his side, away from the wet spot, and then to his back. Dean took deep breaths, chest heaving, arms stretched up over his head; gun still firmly in his grip. He didn't even blink as his knees were pushed wide and Ronnie smeared the come on his stomach over soft genitals and began to lick him clean.
The man was thorough, lifting his limp dick, licking into the crevice of each leg and even licked his dried come from the inside of Dean's thighs. Dean allowed it passively as his breathing returned to normal, Ronnie's big balding head comfortably ensconced between his legs. The man worked his way to Dean's navel, sticking his tongue inside, making his way higher to gain access to the clamps. Dean couldn't close his legs now if he wanted to, the bulk of the manager’s stomach pressing into his groin as he removed the leash.

The pleasurable pressure in his tits faded as they were freed, but they felt almost super-sensitive to the air around them. Ronnie swirled the pad of his middle fingers over the very tips of Dean's nipples. The light touch was like a live wire of sensation to his lax cock. Dean's back and neck arched and he let loose a pained cry. Ronnie rubbed the sensitive little nubs back and forth in a light but relentless motion. Panting through a whimper, head thrashing, Dean's hips jerked against the manager’s stomach.

Ronnie settled himself comfortably between Dean's open knees, putting some of his weight on his elbows on either side of him, but effectively pinning him as he continued his methodical tit grazing.

"Fuck," Ronnie said, enjoying Dean's helpless reaction, "you're so much better than pay-per-view, pretty baby."

While Dean's dick may not have been able to rise to the occasion, pain laced pleasure continued to build at the base of his spine. He rutted against the exposed underside of the manager's rounded stomach, holding his nips high for Ronnie to play with. It hurt but at the same time he didn't want it to stop, wounded whimpers turning suddenly more desperate as a small crest of barely there pleasure pulsed through his groin. He'd gotten off so many times and so recently that not even the smallest amount of come eeked from his dick. He came completely dry, mouth open, hips fluttering against Ronnie's hairy beer gut.
Eyes closed, hands over his head, Dean was completely exhausted. His fingers curled loosely around gun but he made no attempt to move until Ronnie shifted and he felt the sharp bite of the clamps on very sore buds. The manager didn't tease or pull, just reattached them and slowly levered himself from Dean's thoroughly used body.

"Consider it a parting gift," Ronnie said in reference to the nipple leash.

Dean was tempted to aim the gun at him but wasn't sure how steady his arm would be.

"Get out," he said instead.

Ronnie nodded as if expecting the comment. He paused at the open door but didn't turn around.

"You're a special kind of whore, pretty baby. You ever need to do this again, you know where to find me. Ronnie'll use you real good any time you want."

He closed the door behind him, offering Dean some privacy.

Dean was too tired to freak out about what he'd done by choice after freeing himself, but he could feel it there at the edge of his mind, biding its time. He'd worry about it later. For now, he needed to get out of here. It was easy to gather his things since he'd never really unpacked. Setting the gun in close reach, he pulled on his jeans and then put on his boots. He was tired and winded, needed to eat something and find a safe place to sleep for a few hours. He stood, dressed from the waist down, the silver chain of the nipple leash dangling from his tits.

He left it, opting to pull his t-shirt on over the clamps. Shoving the last of his toiletries from the bathroom into his duffle he paused at the door, bag over his shoulder, one hand on his gun and the other on the knob.

Not completely understanding what drove him, Dean walked back to the bed and Ronnie's box of toys. He didn't know what some of that stuff was for, but it was all clean. It looked like the man took good care of them. He picked up the vibrating butt plug, wrapped it in a pillow case he'd jerked free and carefully tucked it into his bag.

The sound and feel of the Impala around him was as comforting to Dean as any embrace. It soothed and centered him - as did the lone stretch of highway before him. He looked in the rearview, once, at the little motel with its line of perfectly spaced blue doors.

And he couldn't help but remember how they looked between his legs...

...bouncing cock flushed and heavy...

...hands bound...ass stuffed and vibrating...

...writhing in mindless, helpless need...

The whole unexpected and disturbing experience of the last fifteen hours was like the first hit of a new drug that he would eventually come to crave.

End.

Chapter Text

It was four months before Dean found himself drawn back to the Little Sparrow Motel on Route 36 just off the highway. It was situated between two exits that boasted an assortment of well-known lodging, food and entertainment choices. Not many opted for the exit that would bring them to the Sparrow. Despite that, the familiar motel with its blue doors had a car parked in front of one room and a motorcycle in front of another. It was just shy of 11 pm but there was a low glow from a lamp in the office and Dean could see the boxed blue light from a television screen beyond, in what must be Ronnie's private living quarters.

Dean sat in the dark, engine turned off, just down the road. He'd had no intention of returning here. But the need...the need to be used and humiliated...was a throbbing, aching presence almost daily now. He'd tried to ease it in other ways, hooking up at the bars, looking for it in alleys, but no one gave him exactly what he needed to the extent that he needed it. At best he got a fleeting taste, enough to make him crave much, much more. And the opportunity to find it and quench it was much harder to come by since he'd hooked up with Sam again. His brother was currently two towns over and under the impression Dean had hooked up with a girl for the weekend. Sam had sounded a little relieved to have some time to himself when Dean called and informed him he'd be back on Sunday to pick him up.

He started the Impala. Dean knew that he should turn around and just drive away even as he drove the short distance to the little motel and parked around back. He was almost sick with anticipation as he walked to the office. Dean paused with his hand on the door. Nightly and hourly room rates were listed on a sign stuck to the door. He could see the little bell in the corner up above that would chime once the opened the door. He could still turn back now, no one the wiser, if he wanted to. He knew he wasn't going to though.

Dean opened the door.

Within seconds Ronnie appeared with a drink in his hand, stopping short in surprise as he recognized Dean.

"Well hello there, pretty baby," he said, recovering quickly.

In a pavlovian response, Dean's nipples and dick tingled and immediately hardened.

"I'd hoped to see you again."

Dean didn't respond. He may not have known exactly what he wanted, but he knew Ronnie could give it to him.

"Come on over here so Ronnie can get a good look at you."

Ronnie set his drink down as Dean made his way behind the counter. The butterflies in his stomach fluttered restlessly and his breath quickened as the hotel manager stepped closer, the tight cotton of his t-shirt almost too much on his stiff peaks. They ached to be touched and manipulated and Dean unconsciously arched his back as he leaned against the checkout counter.

The manager smiled knowingly and part of Dean blushed. The other part was too busy thinking about how Ronnie’s mouth or fingers would feel on his nubs.

"Little titties need some loving, doll?"

Dean made a desperate noise in the back of his throat. Please!

Ronnie eyed his nipples, brown and tight, straining against the thin white, worn material of the t-shirt that Dean had purposely chosen for the occasion. The manager's gaze travelled to the bulge in Dean's jeans. Dean was disappointed; he was hoping to have had one of his achy buds dealt with by now. He leaned back a little, putting them on display.

Smirking, Ronnie slowly unzipped Dean's jeans. He wasn't wearing underwear so it was easy for the man to ease Dean's dick through the zippered opening. It stood hard and proud between them, precome cooling on the tip as it was exposed to the air.

"I've thought about you a lot, pretty baby," Ronnie wrapped loose fingers around Dean's shaft, "Dreamed about using you again."

Dean arched his back, intent clear. All Ronnie had to do was touch his breasts and he could use Dean however he wanted.

The manager eyed his needy nipples like tender sweet appetizers. Dean rolled his hips, thrusting slow and deliberate into the man's hand.

"Want Ronnie to play with you?" he asked. "Treat you like the pretty little whore you are."

Dean groaned, nips aching, slit dripping. Nnnngghh, yeah...

"Tell Ronnie what you want,” the manager encouraged.

Desperate for his nipples to be touched Dean begged, "Touch them...please."

Ronnie smiled, leisurely stroking his weeping cock.

"You can do better than that," Ronnie teased. "Be more specific."

Dean knew exactly what he wanted. So did Ronnie, but apparently he wanted to hear Dean say
it.

Dean's face flamed through white hot arousal and he couldn't help but think of Dale.

"Milk my titties," be whispered, "please."

"That's a good boy," Ronnie praised and fuck if it didn't make Dean's dick twitch.

The older man braced Dean's ribcage on either side, large sweaty hands warm through the thin t-shirt as his thumb and fingers gently massaged their way up the lean torso. Skirting hard peaks Ronnie cupped each pec, thumb just beneath the perimeter of each nipple as he kneaded into the muscle. Dean's head fell back, lips parted, completely wanton as he arched into the meaty grip. His exposed dick continued to leak between them.

The pressure of Ronnie's hands on his breasts was more teasing than satisfying, especially since the man had yet to give him what he wanted. He'd never wanted his tits played with so bad in his life. He wanted, needed, more than random tweaks and sucks in the back of a bar. Some days his nips were so sensitive that just his shirt rubbing over them was enough to make him hard. He touched and squeezed them himself when he could, but it wasn't the same.

Dean burned at the memory of hanging helpless in a Wendigo lair and the way the creature had taken pleasure in his involuntary response, stroking his chest and cupping him to give him something to rut against until he came in his jeans. Thankfully Haley and the young man they'd eventually rescued were unconscious and unaware of his humiliation.

Dean was so primed that when Ronnie finally took his straining tit tips between his fingers that he almost came from that alone. As it was he mewled and bucked shamelessly. It was a few moments of harsh open mouthed panting before he could get himself under control enough to not blow his load. He gripped the edge of the checkout desk on either side of him, knuckles white.

Ronnie seemed to enjoy stringing him out, holding him captive by nothing more than cradling stiff throbbing buds, turned on by how needy he was. The t-shirt was a thin shifting barrier between them as his chest heaved.

Ronnie gently squeezed each nub like little mini-marshmallows. The feeling that shot to Dean's groin was so intense that he could make no sound and it was every bit as satisfying as having his cock jacked. His hips twitched, the coiling pressure at the base of his spine getting harder to hold at bay. The manager seemed to sense this and instead of squeezing him again, used his fingertips to lightly fondle each peak through his shirt.

Lashes fluttering, Dean whimpered. It was too much - and not enough. Ronnie fingered and grazed his tits with just enough pressure to keep him on the edge without tipping him over. He'd had one or two guys get him off this way, but it had been over all too quickly. They'd gotten him off and then wanted the favor returned - usually on his knees. Ronnie knew that he needed more, knew how to make him beg. It was why Dean had returned.

The tug on his nipple caught him off guard and he surged with a gasp.

Ronnie chuckled, "such a responsive cow."

Dean's face heated at the term even as his cock jumped.

The manager plucked and pulled at his buds, alternating leisurely between them - a slow, steady, glorious milking. Dean's head lolled back, eyes rolling in pleasure as his hips hitched and jerked between them.

"Love your slutty teats," Ronnie said.

Dean's tenuous grip on a potentially explosive orgasm slipped. He must’ve had a tell because Ronnie stopped, letting go of his tits immediately. Dean whined like a puppy as the man cupped him through his jeans, thumb hooking over the base of his exposed cock and squeezing him firmly. Not enough to cause pain, but definitely enough to fend off the immediate need to blow.

He held Dean by his crotch with one hand and tweaked a needy nipple with the other, moving with the flow of Dean's body as he writhed between the manager and the check-out desk.

"Did you bring your leash, pretty baby?" Ronnie asked.

Dean couldn't answer but his hand went to the front pocket of his jeans and pulled the chain free.

Ronnie actually groaned as he covered one of Dean's nubs through his shirt in reward. Dean arched in surprise, pushing into the man's mouth and pumping into his hand. The manager mouthed at the stiff peak flicking, sucking and stabbing until the cotton was damp and clinging.
Dean moaned helplessly, shoulder hitching. He'd had a few partners who'd worshipped his body, spent time making love to his nipples and he'd liked it, but this...he'd not had a good nipple fuck since Dale.

There was no stopping his climax. It washed over Dean in a wave and he gripped the desk tight as his knees went weak. Ronnie pulled back to watch, milking his wet nipple and fondling his denim clad balls as the first spurt of come exploded from his slit and splattered across the dark fabric of Ronnie's shirt. Dean jerked and whimpered as he came before slumping back against the desk with a slight tremble as his softening cock continued to twitch. When it was limp and sticky against his jeans, Ronnie went to his knees and licked it clean, pulling it into his mouth and sucking on it until Dean winced at the oversensitivity

Unbuttoning Dean's jeans he ordered the young man to toe off his shoes and then eased the denim from him, stashing both under the desk in the corner. As he stood he took Dean's damp tit into his mouth again and pulled on it with gentle suction. Dean's gasp was less needy; more pleasure now that his immediate need to come had been met. His eyes flew open at the bite of the clamp on his wet nub. The steady pressure shot right to his still recovering cock.

"You're mine now, pretty baby," Ronnie teasingly circled his other stiff peak with the remaining clamp, "but for how long?"

Once he was leashed, Dean knew there was no going back. He wanted this too bad, was willing to submit completely. Still, his throat was dry as he responded, "S...Sunday. 10 am."

It was Friday night. Ronnie's smile was dark and genuine as he clamped Dean's other nub.

"Up on the desk, knees wide," the manager ordered, "let’s feed that hungry hole of yours."

Dean did as he was told, too desperate for what was coming to worry about someone seeing him through the window or the possibility of someone walking in on them. He climbed onto the desk, oblivious to the paperwork beneath him, arms resting on the raised shelf and knocking off a stack of take-out menus.

He held on to the edge with his back low and his ass as high as he could get it. He could feel Ronnie there, breathing on him, but not yet touching. The manager made him wait for it, blowing on his hole softly, inhaling his scent, close enough to almost feel the prickle of his trimmed beard. The first teasing touch was nothing more than a kitten lick, a ticklish swipe over the puckered entrance that felt like it was throbbing in time with his heart. Dean keened, dropping his head.

"Yeah," Ronnie's voice filled with hot lust, "so fucking needy."

He continued with his light random licks until Dean was wiggling desperately and pushing his ass back for more. He was more than a little mindless by the time the manager slipped his fat, demanding tongue inside him. Dean gave a gutteral groan and pushed back, the leash hanging from his tits and coiling on the desk beneath him. Ronnie pulled his cheeks apart and fucked in deep, mouthing at him, alternately thrusting into Dean's hole and sucking on it. The need to come again coiled at the base of his spine even as his spent dick dangled uselessly between his legs. Ronnie ate at his ass like a starved man, lewd and ravenous as he slurped and tongue fucked Dean's slutty hole.

It felt unbelievably good, but something was missing. He didn't know what it was he wanted, needed, until one of Ronnie's hands slid between his legs.

Dean all but came unglued, trying to open his legs wider, as Ronnie fondled his soft dick. The man played with his genitals without missing a beat with his tongue, rolling, rubbing and tweaking his cock like it was another tit. When he started rolling his hips in an attempt to hump Ronnie's hand the manager pulled his knees from the table. As soon as Dean's feet hit the floor, Ronnie was nudging them apart and pressing the head of his cock into Dean's ass. It wasn't completely dry, the man may have used some of the come Dean sprayed him with previously, but it wasn't smooth either. It stole the breath from his lungs when the man slammed home and kept driving into him. He held Dean's hips in a bruising grip, as he hit his prostate over and over again. He was rock hard again by the time the manager blew a sizeable load into his ass.

Ronnie slumped over him, breathing heavily for a few moments before pulling out and
telling him to stay put. Dean held onto the desk and did as he was told, ass open and dripping, legs spread wide. Ronnie returned quickly, setting his trusty box on the floor next to him. He pushed as much of his come as he could back into Dean and shoved a thick plug into place. When he was done he took hold of Dean's dick under the desk and pumped him a few times until his skin stretched tight and hot and then he just...stopped. Dean was still whining from that when Ronnie chuckled and slipped the cock ring into place.

"Stay here and look pretty, doll," Ronnie slapped him on the ass before disappearing into his quarters again. "I've got plans for you."

Clamped, ringed and plugged Dean felt some of the building, blinding need of the last few
weeks ease. He had no trouble finding hookups, never had, but what he needed he couldn't ask for. The closest he'd come was a late night truck stop where some guy had pinned him to the wall and jerked him off, pinching his nipples and calling him a cunt. The man took what he wanted and left, never mind the fact that Dean needed more. Ronnie reappeared with a hammer and pounded something into the wall behind him at each corner of the door frame separating the office from his room.

When he was done he removed the leash long enough to dispose of Dean's t-shirt and had him stand in the open door frame behind the desk.

"Spread your legs," he ordered.

Dean opened his legs until each foot was pressed against the door frame. Ronnie bent
and tied his ankles to each corner. Then took his wrists one at a time and secured them to the top corners. He had no idea what Ronnie had in his hands next, but he put it over Dean's head, pulled it down the trunk of his body and threaded it between his legs. Criss-crossing straps of leather fit snug to his torso but didn't really conceal anything. They framed his tits and junk, held the plug firmly in place and thinned, disappearing up the crack of his ass to connect and secure with the other straps that Ronnie adjusted to suit him.

It was purely ornamental apparently.

Dean flexed, stretching against the restraints, conflicted about how hot he found being bound and at someone else's mercy. It was a little scary to be so helpless, but the thrill he got
from it overrode his fear... and fueled his arousal. He wanted this so fucking much that his balls had been aching in anticipation for days.

Ronnie clamped the leash back into place and removed the longer chain, leaving only the one connecting his tits. He gave it a slight tug, pleased when Dean's entire body arched towards him.

"Almost time for the bars to close," Ronnie said as he took something else out of his box. "I get a few regulars who'll appreciate a beauty like you."

Dean's heart rate increased at the thought of being pinned and exposed. He was given little time for concern as his lips were forced apart by a dark twisted rope of material and knotted at the back. The muffled sound he made into the gag turned him on, made his cock jump.

"Love seeing those pretty lips spread," Ronnie's hand framed his chin possessively, hungry and horny gaze sliding over his mouth and features. "Close your eyes, doll."

Dean tensed reflexively as he was blindfolded, channeling anxiety into arousal as one of the clamps was removed and a warm, eager mouth suckled at him. He moaned into the gag, puffing his chest out to seek more. Fuck, he was such a whore.

Ronnie chuckled, flicking the tip of his tongue over the nub.

"Gonna leave this slutty nip unclamped, let it get nice and needy," Ronnie informed him.

Dean's pout was accompanied by a disappointed whine.

"Not to worry, pet," Ronnie assured, "your titties and cock are part of my Friday night special. Anyone willing to pay can play."

Dean was barely given time to react to that when he felt Ronnie's hand slip between his legs and activate the vibrating plug. His hips jerked and that lovely tingle radiated from deep beneath his nubs. He breathed into the gag, arching against the leather strapping, enjoying the snug feel of it against his skin. He could feel the way it criss-crossed over his breasts, showcasing his tits, tender buds aching to be touched.

Ronnie was talking but Dean was a little too lost in sensation to really pay attention. That changed rather quickly when the man inserted some foam ear plugs and Dean was completely cut off from what was going on around him as they expanded to fit his ear canal. He was gagged, blindfolded and now he could barely hear. A small sound of distress escaped him. The deep bass of Ronnie's voice sounded distant, but reassuring. Breathing through his panic he reminded himself why he was here. The manager gave his heavy balls a pat.

Dean let himself go, rocking his hips and writhing wantonly in the restraints as his cock bounced and his nips remained hard and wanting. He wasn't sure how long it was before he felt mild night air as the office door opened or how much longer after that it was before he felt fingers wrap themselves around his cock out of nowhere. He moaned, thrusting into the too loose grip. He had no idea when or where someone was going to touch him. It made his heart pound...and his hole twitch around the plug. His cock was fondled and released all too quickly and he couldn't help but whine. The cockring prevented him from coming, but the need was still there.

Some time later the pad of a finger along his bottom lip startled him and he pulled his head back out of reflex. Tentative fingertips traced his jaw and moved slowly down his neck and chest to pluck at his unclamped nub. If it weren't for the ring on his dick he'd have come right there. Dean keened into the gag, hips pumping and seeking, chest straining outward for more. The nip was rolled between two fingers, tugged gently and released. He thrashed against the restraints whimpering. A hand settled on his ribcage, followed by the warmth of a swirling, flicking tongue on his bud.

Over the course of the next hour he was alternately fondled and suckled, different hands and mouths touching and tasting him, grabbing and kneading the globes of his ass, a nose pressed into his pits, a tongue into his belly button, a nail scraping over his tit. When someone lapped at his leaky slit and mouthed the tip of his dick he whined so prettily that he felt a moan vibrate through the length of him. The cockring was fingered as the luscious mouth withdrew. Dean could do nothing but pant helplessly in frustration...and wonder how much Ronnie was
charging to whore him out.

When that glorious mouth returned to his cock he decided he didn't care. His hips worked as he tried to thrust deeper but hands held him steady and limited his movement. Dean felt another hand at the base of his cock as the ring was released. He froze with a groan, balls full and sore, on the cusp of coming...until fat familiar fingers took hold of his peaked nub, pinching and squeezing. Dean cried out around the gag, head thrown back as Ronnie worked his tit and his cock was swallowed. The hands on his hips moved to his ass, pulling him in and holding him in place as large spurts of come erupted from deep within him. His hips hitched as he was suckled, every ounce of come he had milked from his cock. When the warm wonderful suction finally
released him he was completely flaccid and almost lethargic with his release. The hand on his ass trailed down the outside of his thigh and Dean felt the caress of fingertips behind his knee before the man withdrew.

Desperation eased, Dean languidly enjoyed the intermittent groping that followed. Especially the abnormally large hand that rubbed at his soft bits and the mouths that nibbled at his nubs.

Despite the vibrating plug it took awhile for his dick to get with the program again. He was only half hard when Ronnie finally removed the ear plugs and praised him for being such a good little slut.

"Every bit as popular as I knew you'd be pretty baby," Ronnie said as he moved about. Still blindfolded Dean heard the rustle of papers, the click of a light switch and the jingle of keys before his ankles were untied. Ronnie released his wrists as well but quickly bound them behind his back.

The bite of the clamp on his freed nip had Dean arching, gasping in pleasure as the steady pressure sent a renewed jolt to his cock. While he loved having them fondled and sucked - the clamps kept him in a constant state of arousal. Always wanting and needing more. He felt Ronnie attach the longer chain and then a tug as he tested the leash.

"Let's take this somewhere a little more private, doll," Ronnie said as he opened the office door. Dean heard the sound of the bell as he was lead from the office. "I kept your room at the end just for us."

Dean's breath quickened as he was led by his tits down the walkway, past the row of blue doors, to the little room where he'd discovered so much about himself. His skin prickled in the night air, mostly from feeling so exposed and helpless to do anything about it. It was late and dark and highly likely that no one would even see him, but the fact that someone could was very exhilarating. The straps of leather around his body felt wonderfully restrictive and his nipples were so hard beneath the clamps that just the tug of the leash had blood rushing to all the right places. Walking felt slightly awkward with the plug in his ass but he managed it well.

Ronnie led him inside and the door closed behind them. Dean remained blindfolded and bound while Ronnie removed the gag long enough to offer him a drink and then set the room to his specifications. When he was done Ronnie removed the blindfold and Dean blinked at the familiar room. It was exactly as he remembered it - except for the bed. The wooden headboard had been replaced, a metal slated frame with leather cuffs attached at each end and in the middle taking its place.

"Home sweet home," Ronnie smirked as he undid his pants, letting them drop to the floor as he unbuttoned his shirt. Dean noticed the flaked dried come on it from earlier.

The manager kicked his pants and shoes free and tossed the shirt across the table. Naked and hard he took hold of Dean's leash again and led him to the bed, sitting on the edge.

"Climb on pretty baby," he instructed as he released the chain.

Dean's hands secure behind his back, Ronnie took his hips, guiding him as he straddled the man’s lap. The managers rather large and impressive dick was flushed almost purple, head glistening with precome. Dean was forced to lean against him as Ronnie reached behind him and pulled aside the leather strap between his legs. He turned off the plug and eased it from Dean's stretched hole, leaving him wet and empty. But not for long.

Leaning back a little, Ronnie maneuvered Dean until they were lined up. Still slippery with the load he'd been plugged with earlier the fat tip of the manager’s dick slid right in. Dean took in a deep stuttering breath as Ronnie's fingers pressed into the flesh of his hips, guiding him steadily down the length of his cock until he was fully seated. Chest rising and falling as he adjusted to the much larger intrusion, Ronnie relaxed back against the bed and watched him.

"Look so pretty sitting on my prick," he observed. “Like you belong there.”

He hitched his hips slightly, pushing in deeper. Dean whimpered into the gag, eyes slipping closed, stretched and full. A part of him couldn't believe he was letting himself be used like this. Another part of him couldn't believe how fucking good it felt. How addicting.

"Ride me," Ronnie ordered. "Take your time, pretty baby."

After the rutting the manager gave him earlier, the man looked ready to enjoy him a little more thoroughly.

Dean let his head fall back and rolled his hips, leaning back slightly to keep his balance. The leash dangled cool against his skin. Releasing Dean's hips, Ronnie let Dean manage on his own, lifting up on his knees and slowly impaling himself over and over again. Eyes lidded he gauged the smoldering heat in the man's gaze as he writhed like the pretty little whore he pretended to be – feeling a sense of power and freedom that he knew was only temporary.

A leisurely bouncing, grinding rhythm had him fully hard as the thick cock inside stimulated his prostate. Eyes closed and very focused on what he was doing, he gasped in surprise when the manager's hand wrapped around his dick.

"Easy, doll," Ronnie said as he bucked, slipping the cockring back into place as Dean's moan turned into a whine.

The manager continued to stroke him and despite the fact he knew he wouldn't be able to come until Ronnie let him, it felt so good to thrust into the meaty hand.

"The next load of sweet sugar you blow is mine, pretty baby," Ronnie informed him.

Dean cried out, bucking again as the leash tugged on his tits.

"All those mouths on you," Ronnie recalled. "They all wanted you. All so willing to pay for a piece of you."

Dean's arousal spiked and he started to breathe faster. He'd enjoyed being touched and tasted. Each new mouth had made him hot and hungry for more.

"Room 9 paid a $100 bucks to suck you off while the chick he'd picked up at the bar watched," Ronnie was breathless as Dean's movements grew more frenetic.

The mingled sounds of their heavy breathing filled the room.

"Fucking loved whoring you out," Ronnie admitted.

Dean groaned in agreement, panting open mouthed around the wet gag. He moved faster.

"Yeah," Ronnie lifted his legs slightly, pitching Dean forward. The manager caught him by the hips. The angle was much better for fucking himself, but with his hands tied he was completely dependant on Ronnie to keep him upright. "That pretty little ass loves to be stuffed doesn't it, pet?"

Fuck, did it ever. Dean clenched his muscles, rocking and grinding. Ronnie's grip on him was almost painful as he jerked with a grunt, entire body seizing as he came, pulsing into Dean for the second time. He lay there until he caught his breath and then eased Dean back so he could balance himself.

"Lick me clean," he ordered, fingering the gag out of Dean’s mouth.

The manager’s soft cock slipped free easily and Dean felt a gush of warm come leak from his hole. He went to his knees on the floor between Ronnie's feet and lapped at the sticky genitals, mouthing the flaccid dick and sucking the large balls. He did a thorough job, even pressed in close and took a tentative swipe at the man's asshole. Ronnie lifted his knees and opened himself up to give Dean better access. He'd had this done to him before, but he'd never returned the favor.

It was a very different experience on the other end. Not to say he didn't enjoy the heady, musky flavor or the way the puckered hole twitched at his prodding...but he much preferred being on the receiving end of a lewd and searching tongue. It made him feel desperate and needy...dirty and vulnerable. And so fucking hot it felt like he could crawl out of his skin. He liked it any way he could get it but Dean particularly enjoyed being held down with his hips high and forced to take it.

Unable to hold the position for too long, Ronnie hooked his knees to keep himself spread.

“Stick your tongue in, pretty baby,” Ronnie ordered. “Taste my ass.”

Prodding at the puckered entrance, Dean pushed past the ring of muscle, moaning at the tight, clingy heat. He wiggled his tongue experimentally. The manager groaned, twitching around him.

“Fuck it, doll,” Ronnie was slightly breathless, “in and out, show me what you got.”

He’d never done this before but Dean did the best he could, always feeling that need to do a good job no matter what the task. He slipped in and out and played with the pressure and speed, tickling the rim and pressing his face in close - feeling that sense of empowerment again as the manager lost a little bit of his control.

Finally, the man shifted and eased his legs down, breathing heavily. Dean leaned back slightly as the manager pushed himself into a sitting position and then cradled Dean’s head, pulling him in and taking his mouth roughly. He was forced to breathe through his nose as Ronnie plundered and sucked his own flavor from Dean’s mouth.

“You’re a natural, pet,” Ronnie said, stuffing the gag back into his mouth and then rising to his feet. He stepped around Dean and walked to a small fridge he must have stocked earlier. “But a slut like you belongs on the receiving end.”

Dean had to reluctantly agree. He got off on being made to submit…squirming helplessly on somebody’s (anybody’s) tongue.

Ronnie grabbed a beer and took a long swallow before setting it down and making his way to the bathroom to relieve himself. Cock rock hard, ass dripping, Dean remained on his knees, waiting patiently. It wasn't until Ronnie had fluffed the pillows and stacked them against the headboard, making himself comfortable with remote in hand that he summoned Dean to join him, patting the bed next to him.

"Knees, right here," he instructed as he channel surfed.

Dean climbed onto the bed within easy reach, cock flushed and bobbing, knees spread wide. He was ready to come any time now.

Unfortunately Ronnie had other ideas. He continued to surf the late night cable offerings with one hand while reaching over to casually fondle Dean's balls with the other. They were full and heavy, almost painfully sensitive with the ring holding his come at bay. Ronnie skimmed them with the palm of his hand, hefting and rolling them at his leisure as Dean whimpered and writhed.

Occasionally he's slip a finger into Dean's slick hole. It was loose and sloppy with come and he played with it intermittently, teasing with a random wiggling finger that never ventured too deep. Dean let loose a startled, muffled shout as the manager lightly slapped his bag, hips canting and rocking for more as his body begged for release.

The noises he made were beyond his control, wounded and so fucking desperate that he'd have been embarrassed if he weren't so completely out of his mind with need. Ronnie hit the mute button on the TV to enjoy them fully and reached for the dangling leash. Dean keened as his nips were tugged, bucking in place as thick fingers tickled the inside of his slippery rim.

"Fuck, you're a needy slut," Ronnie praised, withdrawing from Dean's hole and cupping is balls.

The shame Dean felt at his need to be used served only to heighten his arousal. He rocked his hips forward, flushed cock ready to be sucked as Ronnie removed the ring. The manager mouthed the swollen tip and slid two fingers deep into his hole. Dean fucked back and forth between them until the force of his orgasm rippled through him, Ronnie making happy slurping sounds as he suckled his pulsing dick, ass muscles clenching around his fingers.

"Hmmmph," Ronnie hummed lazily as he probed into Dean's slit, seeking every last drop before falling back against the bed with a sated sigh. He didn't feel inclined to remove his fingers yet.

Dean was spent and tired after a constant level of arousal and three rather powerful orgasms. Still, he couldn't seem to help himself, grinding in slow circles on Ronnie’s fingers.

"You’re insatiable, doll," the manager seemed content to watch, scissoring his fingers every so often.

Dean had a small plug hidden in his bag when he needed it. If he went too long without satisfying his needs, he'd sometimes have to use it, needing that feeling of fullness. It was nice though, to have live moving digits inside of him.

Ronnie actually dosed off for a few minutes while Dean wiggled contentedly on his fingers. When he woke, he decided Dean needed to shed his leather strapped attire and that it was time for him to be tied to the bed. Dean remained on his knees as Ronnie removed the leather, carefully threading the leash through, and tossed it aside. It wasn't until that moment that Dean realized what was playing on the muted TV screen. Pay-per-view porn. Pretty cheesy porn at that. Apparently he wasn't the only one that was insatiable. He was allowed a brief moment of private time in the bathroom before Ronnie cuffed him, hands over his head, to the center of the metal headboard. The manager turned off the lights and climbed onto the bed next to him, leaving the porn on mute.

"Bend your leg, open your knee," Ronnie ordered.

Dean complied, opening the leg on the side opposite the manager. Ronnie unclamped the nipple closest to him and covered it with his mouth, hand settling on Dean's groin for some soft petting. Dean fell asleep to persistent suction on his nub, his balls stroked and rubbed like a kitten.

He wasn't sure what time it was when he woke. The blindfold was back in place. He felt a warm cloth on his skin, heard the dripping of water and scented cheap motel soap. It stroked over his skin slowly, left the hair prickling in its wake as it dried. It felt good. He was cleansed from his neck down to his toes in a near clinical manner until he felt fresh and clean again. Not quite recovered from last night, he hadn't even woken with morning wood. By the time Ronnie was done, he was semi hard again. Just being tied to the bed not knowing what next awaited him was slightly arousing. The bed moved and Dean hard some noises before slippery soap slicked fingers grazed his nipples in a small circular pattern before pulling and plucking at them. His cock took an immediate interest, filling rapidly with a flash of heat as he arched his back for more.

"There's Ronnie’s little nipple whore," the manager purred with pleasure, slick fingers kneading both stiff buds at the same time until Dean was breathing heavily. He pulled his knees up and let them fall wide in invitation.

He wasn't disappointed as the manager wrapped a slippery hand around his cock. When there was no movement, Dean took the initiative and thrust into the man's fist. It was a gloriously slick, smooth glide that had him lazily rolling his hips again and again. Ronnie kept his hand stationary, forcing Dean to fuck into it if he wanted any satisfaction. He found a very good rhythm and was close to getting off when the manager fucked a finger roughly into his hole. It too was slick, but the sudden penetration caught Dean off guard, his hips jumped and he blew his load without warning, the muscles in his ass clenching madly and uncontrollably around the digit that continued to pump lewdly into him. Dean thought he was spent until Ronnie took hold of an unsuspecting nipple, milking it as he continued to finger fuck the man tied to the bed.

The last bit of come he had to offer was worked from him, oozing from his slit to dribble down the backside of his cock as he lay there like a complete slut, legs spread, jerking between the man's hands.

"Yeah," Ronnie breathed, all worked up, pulling harder on Dean's nub, "feel that sweet ass twitch."

Dean could barely hear him over the rolling whimpers muffled by the gag. Face hot with humiliation, Dean was turned on by the way his body responded to both his shame and the physical sensation of being used and played with at someone else's will. Being tied up and made to take it added another whole level of arousal. He wanted it, but the fact that he had no control in the matter once Ronnie had leashed him made it easier for him to enjoy it without any of the internal conflict that went along with it. He knew it would catch up with him later, but right now he was way too hot to care. He just wanted to feel.

"That's right," the manager soothed as he came down, "Ronnie's pretty cow is such a needy little baby, aren't you?"

Dean made a sound that could only be taken as agreement, his nip still sandwiched between fat, rolling fingers.

"Your sticky little udder needs cleaning."

Dean's face flamed, wilted cock twitching internally at the comment. A damp cloth wrapped around his dick and then down over his balls to remove soap that had started to dry. Ronnie licked the come from his belly before burying his face in Dean's clean crotch and suckling the sticky end of his udder. Dean couldn't help but groan loudly, just as turned on by the thought as how it felt.

Stretching his other arm up over Dean's torso, Ronnie took the other nipple, now tugging on both of them as he sucked the soft dick clean. Tiny, electrical currents zinged from his nips to his groin as his buds were pinched. He couldn't get off, but it didn't stop his body from responding. Ronnie tweaked and pulled with alternating pressure until Dean was moaning and thrusting his flaccid flesh into his mouth. The need to come but the inability to do so was almost painful. Panting and covered with a light sheen of perspiration, head thrashing with an intermittent keen, Ronnie pushed him until a small pain-laced wave of pleasure overtook him. Wrung out and exhausted with the effort, Dean just laid there and let the man suckle him. He had nothing left to give at the moment. It was the second time the man had gotten him to come dry.

"You're too much for me to keep up with, doll," Ronnie said as he got up from the bed. Dean heard him moving about the room. "Between last night's customers, word of mouth, and some email buddies, I booked your ass for a good four hours."

Dean was a little startled by that. When he came to Ronnie he hadn't expected to be whored out. Then again...he remembered the little taste of it he'd gotten last night. He heard the manager get dressed and then leave the room. He was gone for about twenty minutes before returning. By that time Dean's bladder was about ready to burst. He had no idea what Ronnie used for a makeshift bedpan, but the man did assist him in relieving himself. Neither of them seemed to get off on that, it was just something that had to be done. He hissed in surprise and arched his back as the nipple clamps were attached. Fuck, he loved that glorious, steady pressure that went straight to his cock.

"On your stomach, pretty baby," Ronnie ordered, "ass in the air."

Filled with butterflies, Dean complied. He'd never done anything like this before and he was almost grateful for the blindfold, convincing himself he could hide in the darkness if he wanted to. Ronnie seemed to sense the edge of his anxiety and offered him a reward for good behavior.

"Be a real good boy for Ronnie and I'll let you sit under the desk and suck my balls when I catch up on my paperwork later," he said. "Stuff you with that nice thick plug that tickles you just right."

He shouldn't want that nearly as much as he did, but just the thought of being stuffed and used as a sac warmer was enough for Dean to get his nerves under control.

"You want that don't you, pet?" Ronnie asked, his tone of voice suggesting he already knew the answer.

Dean nodded, braced on his elbows, leather cuffs snug and secure around his wrists. Ronnie gave his ass a light slap and opened the door. There was a brief muffled discussion and a rustle of bills as money was exchanged.

"The door stays open at all times," Ronnie wanted his view of the proceedings apparently. "Remember what you paid for. You've got fifteen minutes."

Someone settled on the bed behind him before clearing their throat nervously.

"I, ah, never done this before," an older male voice said almost apologetically, then, "always wanted to."

Dean spent the entire first hour on his knees being rimmed. Four different people, 15 minute increments. The first guy wasn't kidding when he'd said he'd never done it before. Still, an inexperienced tongue in his ass was better than no tongue in his ass. He did his best to make it sound good and boost the guy’s confidence. The next two obviously had some experience and a little bit of skill, but the last guy...holy fuck. He went at Dean's ass like he was a starving man, moaning into his hole, prying it open with his thumbs and pressing in with his face to bury his tongue as deep as he could get it. When he wasn't holding Dean open, he had a firm grip on his hips, pulling him in hard, stabbing and thrusting and taking. The others had been almost respectful, treating him like some special treat or privilege that they were grateful to pay for. The last man treated him like a filthy whore, spitting on his hole and forcing his way in, quick and dirty, rubbing and slurping at Dean's crack and then ordering him to rock back and fuck himself.

He was trembling and hard again by the time the man jerked himself off, groaning into him and coating the back of one of his thighs with a thick rope of come. The man was still breathing heavy when he zipped himself up and left the room. Ronnie returned briefly and told him what a good boy he was as he lubed his fingers up and stretched Dean open until his dick was leaking all over the sheets.

Dean blew his load shortly after the first stiff cock slammed into him, griping his hips tight and hard. He could already feel finger tipped sized bruises forming from the previous guy and knew that by the time he was done being used that there would be more. Thankfully the next guy wanted him on his back, Dean's ankles up over his shoulders as he pounded him. Dean quickly forgot about the cool sticky jizz melding the sheet to his back as his prostate took a relentless pounding. No sooner had one guy finished and another was pressing into him, come slicking the way and dripping freely from his ass as they changed places. They used him as the hole he was meant to be, ignoring his dick as it flopped sticky-tipped between them. Six of them total, though none had lasted very long once they were inside of him.

"Look at you," Ronnie said with approval, finger gliding into his slippery hole, "all fucked out like the pretty little slut you are.

He pushed Dean's legs back, knees to his chest, and lapped at the mess of come leaking from him with a hum of pleasure. It felt dirty hot, his ass sloppy and used and he was too tired to do anything but admit that he was fucking loving it. Dean begged with a whimper, hoping the manager would slide his tongue into the puffy, swollen hole. Ronnie was only too happy to oblige, lapping up the come like it was a rare and exotic treat and dipping into Dean's ass like he was licking out a bowl of homeade frosting.

"Ungggh," yeah, mouth lax around the gag, too tired to do anything but enjoy the focused attention.

Ronnie left him pink and shiny with spit though Dean felt more come dribble free as his legs were released.

"Spread eagle, doll," Ronnie ordered.

When Dean opened his legs wide the man produced some silk ties from his pocket and wrapped them around his ankles, kneeling to secure them to the foot of the bed. One wrist at a time he released from the binding in the center of the headboard and secured them to opposite ends and until he was spread out like a starfish, flat on his back. It was pitch black beneath the blindfold and he had no sense of time. He'd been tied up all night but his new position made him feel particularly vulnerable. He couldn't move much of anything.

He arched his neck, a surprised moan slipping from him as Ronnie took hold of the clamps and twisted his buds back and forth before tugging them away from his body. Dean could feel his semi-hard cock filling again as the manager worked his tits with practiced ease. Ronnie stopped without warning, chuckling at Dean's whine as he walked toward the door.

"You're gonna enjoy this, pet. I'll be watching," Dean heard him leave the room and then the bass of his voice as he gave someone permission to enter.

"Someone has been a very naughty boy," a deep voice lustfully purred. "Daddy's little whore is all slick with someone else's come. Daddy doesn't like to share. You know that, don't you?"

Dean made a contrite noise around the gag, an uncontrollable surge of arousal making his cock twitch.

"You know what that means don't you, sweetheart," the man climbed on the side of the bed on his knees. "Daddy's gonna have to punish you."

Dean's heart beat faster, chest rising and falling as he took quick breaths, anxious and excited. He wasn't quite sure what it said about him and his relationship with his father, but now wasn't the time to analyze it. He just went with it.

"You need to learn who you belong to boy," Daddy said, taking hold of Dean's dick, "who this belongs to."

Dean tried to thrust into the callused hand, groaning in frustration when he was quickly released.

It turned into a cry of surprise, entire body rolling in reaction as hot weeping flesh was given three sharp slaps with tightly woven fingers.

Panting open mouthed, an immediate sheen of sweat breaking out all over his body, Dean writhed in shocked arousal.

"Daddy's little slut likes having his cock spanked, doesn't he?"

The tone was mocking and knowing as he spanked Dean twice more in quick succession.

He gasped, jerking against the restraints as his hips stuttered, head thrashing as white hot need flared through him.

Oh yeah, he wanted more of that.

"You want more?" the man asked as if reading his thoughts. "Show me."

With his legs spread and tied at the ankles, Dean's movement was limited but he made the most of it, humping and keening desperately for more.

"Fuck, kid," the man whispered, breaking character momentarily, "worth every fucking penny."

Daddy rewarded him with another spank to heated, bouncing flesh.

Every nerve in Dean's body was hardwired to his cock. He felt his orgasm building, steadily gathering strength. A hand or mouth wrapping around him would set him off instantly. The need to come was quickly becoming his only focus.

A rough hand gripped his full, heavy balls, squeezing.

Hips rocking, body restless he begged with muffled pleas around the gag as the man tugged on his sac.

Smack!

Dean howled as his bag was slapped, trying to pull his legs in out of reflex.

"Like that don't you naughty boy."

Dean would have nodded, but the man didn't wait for a response before spanking him again. Slick with sweat he thrashed, hips pumping, cock leaking and slapping against him.

"Daddy's gonna teach that slutty little cock a lesson."

That was all the warning Dean got before said appendage was slapped over and over again. He bucked and squirmed against the bed, crying out as the force of his orgasm tore through him. His body seized, beyond his control, jerking as a bright bloom of pleasure emanated from deep within and overtook him, colorful spots dancing against the back of tightly closed eyelids.

Dean felt faint, like he was slipping quickly down a slope of darkness. He was pretty sure he'd never come so hard before in his entire life. Distantly, before the demand of his body completely claimed him, he heard Daddy grunt out his release and felt the soft patter of come across his chest.

He slept.

Dean wasn't sure how long he was out for or what may have been done to him while he was. He startled awake, slightly disoriented. His ankles were untied but his wrists were still cuffed to each end of the headboard.

"Shhhhhh, open your mouth, just a little," a gentle male voice said next to his ear.

The gag was tugged free, falling loose and damp around his neck. Dean flexed his jaw as a hand wrapped around his chin and a thumb stroked over his bottom lip. He was reminded of the touch to the back of his knee the night before when someone had paid to blow him in the office.

"Can we just pretend that this is for me too," a female voice said from between his legs.

A quiet sigh before the man surprised Dean by kissing him on the lips.

"You love wearing that thing. Don't act like you're not enjoying yourself," the man said to the woman.

She flexed her hips and Dean felt movement inside of him as she shifted. Realized his hips were elevated with pillows and he was apparently stuffed with a strap on dick.

"So, how exactly did you get in on this anyways?" she asked suspiciously.

"Can we talk about this later, Evelyn?" the man said patiently, removing the nipple clamp closest to him and massaging Dean's nub.

Ultra sensitive after being clamped for so long, Dean gasped, arching into the contact.

"Sure we can," she replied, the tone promising that they most certainly would. Her small hand took hold of Dean's flaccid cock as she thrust her hips. "After we play with the pretty boy."

Wrung out and exhausted, Dean was reactionary on a very basic level, feeling weak and vulnerable as the couple played gently with his nips and softened genitals.

"Fuck his mouth with your tongue, Greg," the woman suggested as she continued to slowly glide in and out of his hole.

Greg hooked Dean's chin and turned his head to the side, tongue flicking over his bottom lip before licking into his mouth. Anyone could kiss. Some could even do it extremely well. But for some, it was an art form. Dean had gotten girls off by nothing more than kissing them and grazing his thumbs over their tits or slipping his hands between their legs, all hot and bothered before he’d even touched them. This man was on par with Dean himself he thought. He didn't fuck Dean's mouth roughly, he all but made slow gentle love with his tongue, taking his mouth with the same gentle rhythm that Evelyn used, squeezing and rolling his sensitive bud with just enough pressure to make Dean whimper helplessly into him.

"Yeah, baby, so fucking hot," Evelyn praised, voice deep with lust as she rolled Dean's dick between her fingers.

Dean took the mouth fucking somewhat passively at first, just enjoying it instead of participating. When he actually kissed back, Greg's moan reverberated through his entire body. He unclamped Dean's other nipple, the chain sliding to the bed, pinching at them both as his tongue swirled and withdrew, licking back in fluid and skilled. Dean's mouth fell open as he lost his focus, chest rising as his nubs were plucked.

Evelyn hit the switch on her honorary cock and low vibrations tingled their way through Dean's ass. He rolled his hips, squirming at the stimulation, as Greg flicked his nipple. The kiss turned more desperate, the other man eating at his mouth with an urgency that was hard to keep up with. Evelyn kept speed with her hips, driving into him with a determination that made up for her lack of finesse.

His cock had only just started to fill when Evelyn slowed and then stopped, panting at the effort she'd put in. "Our time is almost up," she said.

Greg ignored her, continued to plunder Dean's mouth and pull at his tits.

She sighed and pulled out of him, small footfalls walking away from the bed followed by the closing of the bathroom door.

Greg broke the kiss, fingertips softly grazing dark furled flesh.

"Between last night and this morning I've spent half of our rent on you," he informed Dean quietly without any rancor. "I'm leaving my card under the desk lamp."

Dean caught his breath as the man spoke.

"If you ever..." Greg trailed off sounding slightly uncomfortable and then gaining back his courage. "I could do this all day. Just kiss you and play with your tits. Whenever you want...if you want...just call. I'll drop everything for more of this."

Slight movement as Greg turned his head to look at the bathroom door, his voice still low as he spoke quickly before Evelyn returned. He stroked Dean's jaw again.

"Give me a name, please," he asked, "so I'll know its you. I'll do anything you want..."

It was all so awkward and uncertain and to be honest Dean didn't know if he'd ever call, but having something like that available to him when he started to have that crawling need again...it was appealing. Not to mention, empowering.

He barely recognized his own voice when he spoke in a sandpaper rough whisper, "Dean."

Greg's tongue returned to his mouth, deep and sweeping, hand's bracing and cradling his head.

"Let's go Greg before that skeevy manager comes back," Evelyn's voice trailed across the room as she got dressed and gathered her things. "I'm sure he's got us timed down to the second. How exactly are we affording this anyways?"

"Jesus, Evelyn," Greg finally pulled away from Dean, "can you go start the car or something!"

Dead silence. Rustling as the woman grabbed her stuff and exited the already opened door and then slammed it behind her for good measure.

Greg heaved a heavy sigh.

"Sorry about that," he said as he put the gag back in place and then set himself to rights. Dean wasn't sure the man had actually gotten undressed. He heard a thump as the man did what he said and put his card under the lamp.

Settling on the bed again he wrapped a hand around Dean's semi-hard cock and covered his nipple with his mouth. It was a brief touch of tongue and hand before he was pulling away again.

"Call me, please," Greg said as he paused at the door. "Tell me where and when and I'll be there."

Dean was alone for all of about five minutes before he heard voices approaching, one of them Ronnie’s. The door, with the exception of Evelyn's slamming, had been open all morning for the manager's viewing pleasure. Dean heard two other voices in addition to Ronnie’s and the distinct click of the door as it was closed and locked. It was obvious that the three were friendly.

"On your hands and knees, pretty baby."

His wrists were released, hands guiding and moving him where they wanted him.

"What end to you want?" Ronnie asked one of the men.

Dean's chin was lifted. He couldn’t' even see a sliver of light at the edge of the blindfold.

"I'll take his mouth," the man holding his chin said.

The other man was already climbing on the bed behind him and running a hand over his ass.

Ronnie dropped something on the bed.

"Lube up," he ordered. "Don't want you to damage the merchandise."

Dean appreciated the sentiment and realized it must have been a standing order as each of the men that fucked him earlier had slid in nice and smooth.

He could smell the musky sent of the man's precome in front of him, almost feel the heat of his cock as the gag was tugged free again.

"Wrap those lips around this sweetheart."

Precome smeared over his lips as the man traced them with his hard on. A large hand wrapped around his hip to steady him from behind. The flared head of two cocks pressed into him at the same time and he grunted around the flesh in his mouth.

"Fuck he's tight for a slut," the man behind him breathed, just barely having breached his hole.

Lips sealed around the substantial cock head in his mouth, Dean lapped at the bitter fluid dripping from it.

"Yeah," the man breathed, "lap that slit, whore, oh, oh, yeah, just like that..."

Dean moaned at the order, grunting as the man in his ass probed deeper. Dean willed himself not to gag as the man in front stuffed his mouth full. Before long he could feel balls pressing against his ass and the tickle of pubic hair at the tip of his nose.

Tight, possessive hands held his hips in place as both cocks began to thrust, slow and out of sync. Dean breathed through his nose, lips stretched as he fought an almost claustrophobic urge to panic.

"Oh, baby," the man in front cradled his head, but kept the same slow steady rhythm. "Ron, you fucking lucky bastard.”

Ronnie chuckled nearby as they used him.

"Open those legs a little wider," the guy behind him ordered. Doing so changed the position of his hips slightly, they jerked slightly as his prostate was hit was each thrust. His dick soon went from semi-hard to full and flushed with the repeated stimulation. When the man in his ass picked up the pace and Dean began to moan, the guy in front started to fuck his mouth in earnest with short, sharp strokes.

Dean whimpered, drooling around the thrusting cock, arousal warring with the helpless feeling of being trapped.

And then Ronnie’s hand wrapped around his udder and another tugged at his tit.

“Ronnie’s little cow ready for a milking?” he asked knowingly.

Dean groaned around the flesh in his mouth as Ronnie milked his dick and nipple, the hand on his udder squeezing and tugging just right. A quicksilver flash of heat in his groin and he was bucking, over stimulated by all the contact. His hips stuttered back and forth, alternately impaling himself and thrusting into Ronnie's hand as the cock in his mouth started to twitch and pulse, filling his throat with come. The skilled finger on his nipple kneaded and pulled, tiny jolts of pleasure zinging along nerves already buzzing from the steady tapping of his prostate.

He blew with a strangled, muffled cry and it seemed like he came forever, Ronnie expertly milking every drop of come he could from his cock. The clenching of his muscles had the guy behind him grunting, losing his rhythm as he pumped his load into Dean's twitching ass.

The dick in his mouth had shrunk and softened, slipping from his mouth with an ooze of come and saliva that dribbled down his chin. He felt the same sensation as the one in his ass pulled free, warmth running from his hole and down the inside of his thigh. He felt depleted and thoroughly used, shamed by how much he both needed and enjoyed it.

He was manhandled to his back as the three men descended on him like a starving pack of wolves with their tongues and mouths. He was pretty sure that it was Ronnie who slurped at his leaking hole. Another sucked on his sticky dick and the other pinned his arms above his head and buried his face in Dean's armpit, breathing in his scent and licking at him. He was too tired to actively participate at all, could only lie there and take it as they sampled him. He didn't pass out, but he did eventually fall asleep to the feel of fluttering tongues and wet noises of pleasure.

A ringing phone on the bedside table woke him. The blindfold and gag were gone. He was untied and alone with the door closed, though still completely naked. Dean levered himself up, feeling slick, achy and hollow and noticed there was food and water on the small table in the room. He drank most of the water in one long swallow and gobbled up the cheese and crackers before slowing down a little as he ate the small bowl of grapes. A glance at the clock showed him it had been almost a full twenty-four hours since he'd last eaten. He hadn't realized how shaky he was feeling until he had something in his belly. His cell phone and a note were placed next to the food.

You have 1 hour.

Eat. Shower. Change the sheets.

Be face down and spread on the bed when I return.

Dean noticed the folded sheets on a chair next to the door. The blindfold and gag perched on top.

Had he wanted to leave, which he didn't, he wouldn't have been able to without going through Ronnie. His clothes, including the keys to the Impala in the pocket of his jeans, were in the manager’s office. Dean sat in the chair for a long minute until he could feel some energy returning from his nap and the small meal. No messages from Sam. He was both disappointed and relieved. When he entered the bathroom to take his shower, he avoided the mirror, not ready to face himself. After relieving himself, Dean turned the spray on as hot as he could stand it and let the heat soak into his body before utilizing the complimentary soap and shampoo. Once he got going he couldn't help but scrub himself pink, using almost the entire bar of soap. He still didn't feel clean when he was done. The small, scratchy towels were barely absorbent enough to dry his skin. He walked around the room naked until he'd air dried.

He almost turned on the TV to see if he could catch some news, but in the end decided against it. He found the short chain of the nipple leash in the bedding when he changed the sheets. He set it and the blindfold on the bedside table, put the gag back on and climbed onto the bed with fifteen minutes to spare. Dean thought about lubing himself up but he was still pretty slick and open from his morning fucks.

Exactly one hour from the time the phone had woken him, Ronnie opened the door.

"I could get used to this, pretty baby," he drawled, eyeing Dean's prone and spread form. "I've got a list of names and numbers in the office, people who want a call if you're ever up for sale again."

Dean absorbed that bit of info. Liked the sounds of it. Maybe he could come to some type of arrangement with Ronnie.

The manager went to each corner of the bed and secured his wrists and ankles. The silk straps around each ankle had some give; he could move his legs but couldn't get to his knees. The cuffs around his wrists were snug and secure but not enough to leave any marks on his skin. Ronnie climbed on the bed behind him, between his legs, and ran his hands up the back of spread thighs to cup his buttocks, squeezing and parting.

"You've been such a good boy, pet."

He pressed his face into Dean's crack and inhaled his scent, nosing at his puffy, sensitive hole. Withdrawing, he slid a finger inside, pleased at the ease in which he was able to glide in and out.

"I'm going to reward you."

Ronnie's weight pressed him into the mattress, hot breath at his ear as the man pinned cuffed wrists to the bed. Dean could feel the damp head of the manager’s cock nudging his balls.

"We're gonna do a little role playing," he informed Dean. "I'm going to take you like the little slut you are. Bury myself so deep in your ass you know who it belongs to. You're gonna fight like you don't want it...but we both know you really do."

Dean was already struggling, not liking the feel of being pinned. It was all too easy to just go with it and pretend it was real. He bucked his hips, trying to find purchase with his knees, scrabbling against the sheets as Ronnie wiggled and thrust his hips, trying to find his way inside Dean's ass without removing his weight.

"No," desperate and muffled around the gag, grunting as he fought, "please."

"That's right," Ronnie panted, "beg for it whore. You know you want it."

Because Dean didn't do anything half way, he put all he had into fighting, made the manager put in some real effort in keeping him pinned. Heard the man curse when he threw his head back and connected. When the head of Ronnie's dick finally found his hole, he shoved in hard and fast, the angle all wrong and tearing a more genuine scream from Dean’s throat.

"Take it slut," Ronnie was plastered against Dean's back, rutting and panting and already sweating from the brief struggle.

Dean tried to bring his knees up again but Ronnie was heavy and the trunk of his body was well and truly pinned. He hitched his hips back, lifting them, hard cock trapped beneath the bed and the manager as he wiggled ineffectually. Ronnie held his arms against the bed, his knees between Dean's legs, keeping him spread as he laid claim to Dean's slutty hole. The only movement Dean had that offered any give was his hips. He could move them slightly up or down or remain completely passive as Ronnie fucked him.

Dean wasn't passive. And besides, when he lifted his hips, the fat cock inside him hit his prostate and he kinda forgot he wasn't supposed to be enjoying this.

"Can't help yourself can you?" Ronnie mocked, "little slut like you needs to be filled. Doesn't matter who it is, does it?"

Dean bucked hard and renewed his struggle.

"Yeah," It seemed to excite Ronnie and he pumped harder and faster into Dean's ass. "Love having a pretty little wildcat squirming on my dick."

Grunting, one of the manager's hands went to Dean's hips, pressing him into the mattress as he came with an almost brutal snap of his hips and yowled out his release. Dean huffed out all the air in his lungs as the man collapsed on top of him. Ronnie's softened dick was loose and slippery inside of him and he rocked his hips, barely able to move, pressing his cock into the mattress and enjoying the loose slick meat in his ass. It took a few minutes for Ronnie to catch his breath and move his weight.

"Keep going whore," the man ordered with a slap to Dean's ass, "hump that mattress."

Trapped beneath him, Dean's dick was hard and leaking, rubbing against clean but scratchy sheets. Ronnie made him work for it, weight on his elbows between his spread legs, watching him as he worked his hips, trying to find the right amount of friction. He could feel come leaking from his hole and canted his hips high, offering Ronnie a nice view. The manager didn't disappoint, lapping at the come on Dean's balls and following the leaking trail to his loose hole and stuffing it with his tongue.

"Nnghhhh," Dean's hips hitched, pushing back against Ronnie's face for more. So dirty fucking hot, it just split him wide open in the most intimate way, made him feel helplessly vulnerable. Normally not at home with such feelings, it was different in this setting, where he didn't have a choice and there was no one he had to pretend for. Dean whimpered as the stabbing tongue raped his little hole, not gentle but demanding and possessive, Ronnie taking what he wanted without consideration, the scruff of his goatee scratching roughly against sensitive skin.

"Mmmphh," Ronnie's voice muffled as he continued to eat Dean out, "taste so fucking good, pet."

Wiggling and rocking for more of the man's tongue, Dean bucked in surprise when the man's hand found its way between his legs and wrapped around his dick. He thrust frantically into the man's grip, the need to come growing more urgent with something to fuck into.

"You should see yourself, doll," Ronnie's voice raspy with lust as he poked two fingers into Dean's ass. "I've paid for boys that didn't enjoy being used nearly as much as you do."

Dean lost his rhythm, whining in frustration as Ronnie loosened his grip on his cock. His balls tingled as the manager chuckled at him, hips rising and falling as thick fingers slid slowly in and out of his ass. Ronnie played with him, alternately loosening and tightening his grip, keeping Dean right on the edge but not quite able to come.

Dean was practically mindless with need, humping away at the mattress, by the time he realized the manager had gotten off the bed and was untying him.

"Roll over," Ronnie ordered.

Dean did so, arms and legs still splayed, hips moving of their own accord. Ronnie held up the small nipple clamp chain.

"Still begging for it like a slut, even without your leash," the man teased.

Dean had forgotten all about it. Usually his tits needed tweaking to get him to let go and fully enjoy being used.

Ronnie set the leash aside and climbed onto the bed next to Dean.

"Such a good boy," the manager ran a hand over his hair and Dean felt his cock twitch at the praise. "Ronnie's gonna reward those little titties."

Dean made a desperate noise around the gag. Please.

"Come on, pretty," Ronnie encouraged, "show me how much you want 'em played with."

Dean arched and writhed, offering his nips, bending his legs and letting them fall open. His hands were no longer tied but he left them over his head.

Just the idea of having his tits played with made his cock leak a steady stream of precome. The clamps served a purpose and definitely turned him on, but the thought of being played with manually - randomly touched, tweaked and manipulated by the manager’s fingertips...he suddenly wanted nothing more.

Ronnie watched him squirm and beg with his body. He reached between Dean’s legs and slapped his bag lightly. Dean’s hips hitched and he made noises he'd never thought himself capable of.

"There you go, pet," Ronnie tapped the sac again as Dean's eyes rolled, "beg for it like a little puppy."

Through his panting, Dean realized he was whining and whimpering, tight little nubs straining for contact. He was not so far gone that he didn't flush a nice shade of pink at the picture he must make. If anything, it only turned him on more.

He was at the mercy of his nipples. Stiff, rose-colored peaks of furled skin that tingled on the surface and ached down to his cock with an almost insatiable desire to be touched or suckled.

When Ronnie finally took them between his fingers, rolling and then gently squeezing the aroused buds, Dean's mouth opened in a silent cry - sweet molten heat erupting from his core as he bucked uncontrollably. Totally lost in each wave of glorious sensation as the milking of his tits went straight to his cock, he felt a fleck of wet come hit his chin and his lower lip before a spatter of warmth speckled his chest. It was more difficult to get off without direct stimulation to his dick, but when he did, he came hard.

Ronnie continued until he was completely soft and spent and then took great pleasure in lapping every drop from his skin, sucking on his chin and lapping at his lips. The man definitely enjoyed his come - Dean's and anyone else's.

"Stand up, pretty baby," Ronnie ordered once he'd finished. He'd brought Dean's jeans with him and retrieved them from the chair by the door. He held them for Dean while he slipped them on, tugged them up to his hips and buttoned them. He left the zipper open and threaded Dean's soft cock through the opening.

"Hands behind your back," he ordered, using one of the silk ties from the bed to secure his hands. Lastly, he attached the leash to Dean's tits and led him from the room.

As soon as they were in the office, his jeans were stripped again. The manager folded them and set them aside before bending him over the desk and fucking a thick plug into his ass. A very low vibration radiated from within, mild and teasing.

"On your knees, under the desk."

Dean did as he was told as Ronnie removed his pants and sat in his chair. There wasn't a lot of room, but if someone did come in all they would see is Ronnie at the desk in his shirt and tie, so long as he didn't move or get up.

The manager opened his legs and lifted his sac so Dean could wrap his lips around it.

"Ahhhh," Ronnie obviously very much liked the warmth of Dean's mouth, "yeah."

Dean shifted to find a comfortable position as the manager ran fingers through his hair and over his scalp.

"Don't be blowing your load on the carpet, pet," he said. "Ronnie wants to suck that sweet sugar from your pretty dick, so you let me know when you start dripping."

It would be awhile before Dean was able to come again.

For close to an hour he sat under Ronnie's desk, warming his nuts, as the man did whatever he was doing. He heard the scribble of a pencil and the clicking of a calculator. The phone rang once and Ronnie laughed and stroked his head as he talked.

"Yeah, he's sitting under the desk sucking my nuts as we speak," Ronnie talked about him like he truly was just a pet. Dean got the impression it was one of the man's email buddies that Ronnie had shared him with earlier. "Tell me about it. Such a needy, hot piece of ass and I didn't have to pay a dime for him."

Dean felt his face heat but the shame and embarrassment that should have mortified him went straight to his groin. Apparently it was affecting the manager in a similar way; the man’s dick had fully hardened and was bumping against Dean's nose.

Ronnie chuckled again sounding a little possessive. "Think I'm gonna keep him all to myself for now, but thanks for the offer."

Dean was perfectly fine with the current arrangement, but he couldn't help but wonder what the other guy was offering.

"I'll give it some thought for next time," the manager said.

Next time?

"Yeah, I'm sure there'll be a next time. He can't get enough of this shit, man. It's like a fucking drug. He's a looker, may be able to get a hit here and there, but he needs more. Now he knows where to get it. He'll be back." Ronnie said with certainty as he continued to pet Dean's hair.

Dean didn't care for the transparency of the assessment and a part of him wanted to deny it...but he'd already been thinking about how long this was going to carry him over. He knew he was going to need it again eventually.

"All you gotta do is suck on his tits and he'll do anything," Ronnie said with a pat to his head, "won't you pretty baby?"

The two men on the phone shared a laugh before the call was disconnected. Ronnie stroked his shaft and pulled back slightly until Dean released his balls.

"Suck me, doll," he ordered. "Nice and slow. Make it last."

Dean took his time, moving up and down the man's length, using every ounce of skill he had to draw it out and make it good. He wanted to please, desperately needed the praise he would get for being such a good whore.

Ronnie came down his throat without warning, holding his head and thrusting through the last of his orgasm as Dean tried not to gag.

"Good, so good, pet," breathless as his limp dick slipped from puffy red lips. "Take my sac again...there you go."

It was another hour before he'd recovered enough and the plug inside had him fully hard again. He rocked and whimpered pathetically until Ronnie got the point, knees stiff and sore as he was allowed out from under the desk, which was somewhat difficult with his hands still tied behind his back. The first thing Ronnie did was put the blindfold back on him and bend him over to remove the plug.

Dean heard the sound of tires on gravel outside the office and a low curse from the manager. "Fuck."

He tensed as he heard the hurried motion of the manager pulling has pants back on.

"Relax, pet," the manager assured. "Just let Ronnie handle this."

Dean was tugged into the man's lap as the door opened. There was a moment of dead silence.

"Jesus," a deep voice said. "Are you fucking kidding me? Do you have any idea how much trouble you could be in for this Ron?"

"'S'all completely consensual," Ronnie drawled, hands roaming over Dean's stomach and chest, "ain't it doll?"

"I heard you were charging?" the voice accused. "Consensual or not, prostitution is illegal."

"Someone file a formal complaint, officer?" Ronnie asked mildly, removing the leash, as Dean tensed once again. This was trouble he did not need.

"No, but I heard some talk...figured I should come check it out," the voice sounded more curious than anything.

"I'd have called you, Phil, but I knew you were on duty this weekend," Ronnie explained, "didn't want you to have to deal with a conflict of interest...but since you're here..."

Dean gasped as Ronnie tweaked one of his nipples.

"I'll let you touch him for free," the manager offered as he rolled the nub between his fingers, tugging on it gently until Dean moaned and arched his back.

Dean felt the touch of leather against is jaw before a gloved finger tugged the gag free. The officer's thumb traced over his mouth.

"Pretty lips," he said.

Ronnie sounded a little smug with his response, "he's pretty all over."

Dean flicked his tongue out and tasted the leather. That's all it took for the man to slip his thumb into Dean's mouth, fingers splayed over the side of his face. He sealed his lips around the digit and suckled.

Ronnie stroked both nipples in small gentle circles as the officer crouched down in front of him. Dean heard and felt him move, could imagine what he looked like, nude, spread and blindfolded with the uniformed man before him.

"I can't stay long," the man said.

"It won't take long," Ronnie assured, "he's a fucking slut for anything you give him."

The thumb in Dean's mouth moved, small thrusts in and out. He was so focused on that, that it took him by surprise when the cop's other gloved hand took firm hold of his balls. He jerked in Ronnie's lap, feeling the tug on his sac, mouth going momentarily lax around wet leather. The manager took advantage of his lapse and began to squeeze his nipples in a familiar milking rhythm. Dean groaned and thrashed between them, arching his back, hips grinding in small desperate circles.

His bag was released, only to be roughly fondled and then slapped. Dean's mouth opened in a pant around the man's thumb, whimpering as Ronnie expertly teased his tender nubs. Hole tingling with the need to be filled, Dean's hips twitched as a leather covered finger probed at his entrance. He was slick and loose from the plug and he expected the man to slide right in. What he got instead was a sharp slap.

Squirming in startled pleasure, Dean moaned, hitching his hips for more as he sucked on the man's thumb. He made the most obscene noises as the officer alternated between slapping his bag and his hole, bucking so hard that Ronnie had to abandon one of his nubs and wrap an arm around his waist to keep him in his lap. Dean had no idea how much he'd enjoy being spanked. He remembered the man earlier that had spanked his cock...and now this. He really didn't think a basic spank on the ass would do it for him...but this...this turned him on so much that he could already feel his toes curling.

"He's gonna blow, Phil," Ronnie warned, familiar with Dean’s tell.

The man went to his knees, thumb pulling free of Dean's mouth. One leather gloved hand wrapped around his cock, the other his balls. Warm, wet heat covered the head of his dick, tongue probing into his slit as his balls were rubbed. Jacking him slightly, the man suckled him as Dean's eyes began to roll beneath the blindfold. He was right on the cusp of coming when the cop spanked his hole again. He made a choking noise, seizing silently between them as his entire body jerked with the force of his orgasm, large leather hand slapping his balls lightly as he came.
Dean cried out in surprise as the man released his dick and latched onto the nipple Ronnie wasn't playing with. He arched his back, pushing into the suction.

"Untie his hands," the man said. Ronnie must have given him a look. "My dick's hard enough to cut glass; I'm not getting back in that patrol car until I take this little bitch. Trust me, this won’t take long either."

Dean's heart rate spiked at the heat he heard in the man's voice. He stood at Ronnie's prodding, heard the officer undoing his belt as the manager untied his hands. The next thing he knew he was being slammed against the wall, large hands curling beneath his thighs and lifting him. Dean held on to bicep and shoulder, legs wrapping around the man automatically as he grunted, thrusting roughly into Dean's slick hole. Dean could feel the stiff fabric of the man's uniform, the buttons pressing against his skin, the pens in his breast pocket as the officer breathed open-mouthed against the hollow of his neck. True to his word, the man didn't take long. He made a soft noise, thrusts growing erratic before he pumped his load into Dean's body.

Lowered to the floor, the man made sure Dean had his balance before tucking himself back in and zipping up. Warm come oozed down the inside of this thigh.

"Give me a heads up next time," the man said, still a little breathless. "You've had a lot of traffic in and out of here this weekend. It hasn't gone unnoticed."

They chatted for a few minutes before Dean heard the bell over the door and the crunch of gravel as the officer left. Ronnie took his arm, guiding him.

"Assume the position, doll" Dean's hand found the desk, orienting himself before he climbed up on his knees so the manager could eat the cop's come out of his ass.

Ronnie had a great tongue, swirling and searching, tickling his rim as he cleaned him out. Dean passively enjoyed it, completely comfortable with it at this point. After that Ronnie had him turn and sit on the desk, leaning back with his legs open. It was a slow evening, no customers at all until the bars closed. Ronnie spent close to an hour just fingering him lazily and sucking on this softened cock and balls. Dean enjoyed it so much he may have fallen asleep if the desk weren't so damn uncomfortable beneath him.

It was getting late by the time Ronnie had him stand and helped him into his jeans. The gag was still loose around his neck from when the cop tugged it free.

"I want you good and needy for me later," he announced. "No one gets to play with you tonight, but we're gonna put that cocksucking mouth of yours to good use."

Ronnie had him kneel next to the desk and tied his hands behind his back again. Blindfold securely in place, Dean couldn't see anything. He wasn't plugged and his nips weren't clamped. Usually Ronnie stimulated either his ass or his tits to gain compliance. This time he was counting on Dean to obey based on his order alone. He wasn't sure he liked it. He felt empty and restless, he wanted and needed more. The manager sensed his discontent and chuckled.

"Do what you're told, pretty baby," Ronnie ordered. "A good whore knows how to listen."

Dean shivered at the manager's tone of voice even as he inwardly rallied against it. Part of him wanted to say fuck you and the other part wanted to be the good little whore. The struggle itself was arousing as he resisted his natural instinct to be defiant and gave into the base desire to obey.

"That's it, pet," Ronnie praised as if sensing his conflict. "Sit there like a good boy until it's time to suck."

This time Dean didn't have the ear plugs in so he heard the negotiations as they occurred. He still found it pretty hard to believe that someone would pay for him. Obviously they had a willing companion with them if they were coming to a pay by the hour motel in the first place, but nearly everyone that came through the door wanted to stick their dicks in his mouth - and didn't seem to mind paying for it. Those who wanted to come in his mouth had to pay extra. Most were content to blow their load on his face and chest. Some let him do all the work and others gripped his head and fucked his mouth good.

When the last customer had their key and had disappeared into their room, Ronnie helped Dean to his feet and put the gag back in his mouth, letting him lean against the desk and stretch out his legs as the manager locked up the office and disappeared into his quarters momentarily. When he returned he cupped Dean through his jeans, palming his hard on.

"Liked that didn't you," Ronnie rubbed him slowly as Dean pressed into his hand. "Didn't even need those pretty little titties played with. You keep coming back to me and I'll condition you to get hard and wet just by taking orders."

Dean opened his legs when Ronnie's fingers slipped between to stroke at his nuts.

"Can't wait to tie you to the bed again," Ronnie unzipped his pants carefully, "play with your cock and your needy hole. Love the way your whole body begs for it."

Threading his fully hard dick through the opening of his jeans the manager led him around the desk by his hard on. Blindfolded, hands tied behind his back, Dean had no choice but to follow...not that there was any other option he entertained. They moved slowly from the office and down the short walk way to the room that Dean was beginning to consider his.

Once there the silk ties were removed but Ronnie informed him the blindfold would remain for now.

"Got a little surprise for you that I don't want to spoil," he said.

Dean was allowed to use the restroom, but not allowed to touch his dick. Ronnie was a lot less clinical than he'd been previously, fondling and tugging gently on his cock as Dean tried to pee. He could tell by the way the manager was breathing that he was aroused by it. Dean reluctantly found himself enjoying it as well as he dribbled his relief into the bowl. It wilted his erection a little, but once he was cuffed to the bed and Ronnie slipped his jeans free, he could feel himself hardening again. He'd had no idea he was so turned on by being tied up.

"Think you're gonna enjoy this, doll," Ronnie sounded extremely certain.

Dean heard the door open and the sound of the ice bucket being filled. He felt himself shiver in anticipation as the man returned.

He was starting to get a little impatient when Ronnie nudged him and threaded something beneath him and wrapped it around his chest. It felt like an Ace bandage. The man wrapped it around once more and secured it, snug but not too tight. Dean was just starting to wonder what the manager could possibly be doing when the bandage was lifted and a small ice-pack was placed over his nipple. He gasped and was mid-surge when another pack was stuffed under the bandage over the other nipple. His chest heaved, cold seeping through each hardened nub and sharpening it.

"Yeah," Ronnie breathed, voice full of lust, "pretty baby likes that don't you."

Dean hadn't realized he'd automatically opened his legs and brought his knees back, exposing his hole. It felt like it was throbbing in sync with his heart with an insatiable need to be filled. He squirmed beneath the ice, unable to get away from it. The ice-packs moved with him, secure beneath the bandage. Dean heard the squelch of lube between his legs.

"Had this on ice all evening just for you," Ronnie said.

Dean's gasp was much more pronounced as the bulbed head of the chilled dildo pressed against his anus. Ronnie fucked just the head in nice and slow as Dean lost his breath and bucked against the cold intrusion, fighting the urge to close his legs, knowing it would do no good. He lie there panting, legs tense, completely flaccid after the manager withdrew it.

Ronnie leaned over him, hand planting on the mattress next to Dean's ribcage.

"If you've ever wanted to know what it feels like to be fucked by a popsicle," he informed Dean, "you're about to find out."

With that he stabbed into Dean's ass, hitting his prostate and fucking the icy gelled cock in and out with a fast pumping motion. Dean's howl was muffled, entire body rebelling against the cold probe as he fought against the restraints and lifted his hips from the bed.

"There you go, pet. Take it."

Mewling and whimpering, Dean really didn't have a choice. He continued to thrash and eventually did try to close this legs, but Ronnie's bulk was in the way. The manager changed the pace once or twice but for the most part just continued to fuck Dean hard. Eventually the heat of Dean's body warmed the dildo to a more accommodating temperature. The frigid cold that had shocked him, dulled to an icy hot sensation that began to burn pleasantly. He slowly stopped struggling, body relaxing, mewls tapering to a rolling moan as he let his legs fall open again.

Ronnie chuckled as he turned the dildo and fucked into him with a little more finesse. By this time Dean's nipples were almost completely numb, but his cock was rapidly filling as the hotel manager continued to enjoy his plundering of Dean's ass. He was merciless with Dean's prostate, pounding away at it until his dick was fully hard and weeping again - an icy dick inside of him while his own was on fire.

"Yeah, that's good baby, that's good," Ronnie stopped thrusting the dildo and left it inside of Dean. It was slightly uncomfortable, still cool, but not cold.

The manager climbed off the bed only to return moments later. Lifting the bandage he removed the ice-pack on Dean's right nipple. He could feel some attention to the nub but not enough to tell what the man was doing until he felt the sharp unmistakable jab of a needle.

Dean hissed, surging and struggling again.

"Calm down, pet," Ronnie said, fucking him with the dildo until he subsided. "Everything's sterilized. Wait'll you see the end result before you get your panties in a bunch."

Again Dean felt tugging and some minor discomfort on his nipple. He tried to focus on the fullness in his backside.

"There," the manager announced, sounding pleased. He reached up and tugged the blindfold off.
Dean knew his glare wasn't as effective as it normally would be with his finger mussed hair and the gag in his mouth. He looked down at his chest. Ronnie fingered the small ring, lifting it for better observation. It was a small hoop that would have appeared delicate were it silver or even gold. Dean was pretty sure it was tungsten, a metal he happened to very much like due to its strength and hue. He had to admit, it turned him on to see his nipple pierced though with the ring.

"Probably won't even notice it through your t-shirt," Ronnie said. "And...if your slutty little nip gets all hot and bothered, all you have to do is tug."

Ronnie pulled on the small ring. The numbness from the ice hadn't completely worn off, but a jolt found its way to his groin regardless. Dean dropped his head to the mattress with a groan, hips hiccupping.

"Got this for myself a few months ago to remind me of you actually," Ronnie admitted. "My little nipple slut."

The manager looked a little smug as he pushed the bandage up and removed the other ice-pack. Ronnie's hot mouth covered the ice cold nub, tongue flickering over the furled skin in a flurry of sharp little strokes that were almost painful. Dean lifted his shoulder, trying to push deeper into the man's mouth. Ronnie released him, leaving a large swath of saliva as Dean whimpered and begged with his eyes.

"Ronnie's gonna pay special attention to your tits later, doll," he soothed. "Right now I want a piece of your ass."

Positioning himself between Dean's legs again he teased him with the dildo until Dean was rolling his hips and moaning, wanting nothing more than one of those meaty hands to wrap around his dick and give him something to thrust into.

Of course that was when Ronnie pulled the dildo out completely and left him feeling so terribly empty. Hips moving, Dean whined like a puppy with his favorite toy taken away as Ronnie lifted his knees and positioned himself. At this point the shame he felt was just as arousing as being used like a cheap whore.

"Love your dick, pretty baby, but Ronnie likes to suck on it when it’s soft. Nothing turns me on more than watching that sweet udder of yours blow without being touched."

Dean's legs were over his forearms, ass lifted from the mattress. The fat head of Ronnie's cock breached the tight ring of muscle and paused, pushing no further. The manager did some teasing baby thrusts, barely moving. Dean keened softly.

"Want it don't you, baby? Want Ronnie to pound you hard?"

Dean nodded, breath quickening, tugging against the cuffs, making noises that left no doubt as to his answer. Ronnie gave it to him, the entire bed shuddering with the force of the manager's thrusts as he pushed Dean's legs back, practically bending him in half, and relentlessly slamming his prostate. When he did come, mouth lax around the gag, body frozen, cock twitching and spurting, he came so hard he felt his own jizz hit the side of his face and disappear into his hair.

That was enough to set Ronnie off with a curse as Dean's muscles tightened around him. He pumped into the puffy hole erratically as he dumped his load, balls slapping against Dean's ass with each thrust.

Breathing heavily, Ronnie pushed Dean's knees back until they were all but in his armpits, lifted his rump and buried his tongue in the slop he'd filled him with. Dean felt like he was in some weird yoga position as the man held him in place and lapped all his jizz out. It still felt as dirty as it did the first time. He loved it. It had the potential to make his eyes roll in his head as much as having his tits played with did.

Intent on enjoying his final night with Dean, Ronnie didn't doze at all. He fingered, sucked and fucked him every inch of him he could while his 'pretty baby' was tied to the bed and free to use as he pleased. Sometime before dawn Dean had the best orgasm he'd had all night when the manager nipple fucked his pierced nub, tonguing the tender flesh and rolling the hoop back and forth and nipping at it with his teeth. It was a different feel from the clamps, the tug coming from within his bud and sending glorious waves of tingly warmth to his groin. Dean fell asleep with his pierced tit moist and suckled and the manager’s middle finger slipping in and out of his slippery hole.

He slept well for all of about two hours until the phone on the bedside table rang loud and rudely into the quiet room. Dean awoke naked but completely unbound on the bed. His clothes were folded neatly on the table with his cell phone and the keys to the Impala, the only two items he'd had with him when he'd arrived. It was just shy of 9 a.m. He'd told Ronnie he wanted to be on the road by 10. He checked his cell phone. Still no messages from Sammy. He fired off a text message letting him know he'd be there before checkout time. The response back was simple and immediate.

K.

Dean snorted, annoyed but unable to name why.

He showered and then stood at the mirror and scratched at the shadow on his face. A shave would have to wait until he made his way back to the room he shared with Sam. Dean dressed in the faded jeans and thin, almost transparent white t-shirt he'd worn on Friday. He blushed at the memory of showing up in Ronnie's office with his nips poking through, all but thrusting his chest at the man, hoping he'd play with them. Now that his need had been satisfied he was beginning to feel more embarrassed than aroused. Still, there was no denying how much better he felt. He was loose limbed and relaxed, comfortable in his own skin again. The clawing need to be used eased back to a much more manageable level.

Oh, he was pretty sure he'd need this again...eventually. But for now - he was good.

Dean looked around the room. Except for the padded cuffs on the headboard, there was no evidence of his debauchery. The leather outfit that had hit the floor that first night and had remained all weekend was now gone. There was no lube, dildos, plugs or any other toy in sight.

It looked plain. Disappointingly ordinary as a matter of fact. He walked over to the desk lamp and lifted it to retrieve the business card Greg had left him and stuffed it in his pocket with his phone and keys.

His plan was to leave. He didn't owe Ronnie anything. Not even a goodbye. He liked to be used and Ronnie liked to use him - it was a mutually beneficial arrangement. And a good one at that. Dean figured this should hold him over for a few months. He could always find someone willing to play. Didn't mean he'd be returning to Ronnie. It wasn't like he was the man's bitch or anything. The desperation that brought him back to Ronnie was conveniently forgotten in the light of day and the reality of returning to the hunt and Sam.

The door to the room opened as he walked towards it. Dean paused in the middle of the room as the manager walked towards him, leaving the door open behind him.

"Weren't gonna leave without saying goodbye were you, pretty baby?" he asked with a knowing smile.

Dean's intent to do just that was obvious.

"I put my number in your phone along with an email address that I created just for you, doll. Everyone that used you has it and Ronnie's encouraged them to send you a message from time to time about what they'd like to do to you." Next time was implied.

Dean remained silent, tracking the man without actually meeting his gaze. A little wary now that he felt the game was over.

"You give me some notice and I can make it well worth our time," the manager said. Dean was reminded of the money that was charged for him and wondered how the man made out. "If you can't then that's just fine, too. You can show up at my door anytime you want. For an hour or a week...or anything in between."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, voice rough and almost dismissive, tits tightening in response as the man stopped in front of him.

Ronnie looked down at them and smirked. Dean felt the tips of his ears burn, rooted in place as Ronnie slowly circled around behind him.

"Thinking you won’t be back, are you?" Ronnie asked.

Dean suppressed a shiver at the voice next to his ear, breathed just a little quicker as hands settled on his hips.

"Pretty boy like you can always find someone willing to play with you...but Ronnie doesn't just want to play with you, I want to use you like the hot little whore you are."

The tip of his tongue flicked at Dean's earlobe as both large paws slowly stroked upward to cup his pecs like breasts.

A deep breath pressed his tits into Ronnie's palms, stiff tips grazing as the manager gave them a squeeze.

"I know what you like...how you like it. Eventually you'll need it again," Ronnie pressed into the muscle with his fingers and worked his way inward, towards straining nips.

Dean leaned back, arching into the touch.

"Yeah, there you go. Ronnie's gonna send you off real good. Give those plump little tit tips some loving."

After an entire weekend of touching and stroking, Dean couldn't believe how badly he still wanted it, chest rising and falling in anticipation.

"Remember how good this feels, doll," he said. "How much you want it."

The first squeeze of his nubs almost sent Dean to his knees. If he'd had to piss, his jeans would be soaked. For such a big man, Ronnie had a very gentle touch when he wanted to. He squeezed Dean's nipples lightly, just enough to send those zinging jolts to his dick. The manager seemed to have an inner sense as to just the right amount of pressure to drive him crazy. In a different mindset now that he'd been about to leave, Dean's moan was low and reluctant, almost against his will. Ronnie swirled his fingertips over the rock hard peaks, grazing them lightly, teasing more than anything until Dean was panting against him.

Deft fingertips pressed into the pierced nipple and twisted the furled bud. Ronnie was ready for it when Dean's knees actually did give out, arm wrapping around his waist and holding him steady. The man wasn't cruel or vicious to the flesh he pulled, instead turning it like the dial on a radio and enjoying the music that resulted as Dean keened.

"Keep going," Ronnie encouraged, using his arm as a guide, "down on your knees, pet."

Dean dropped slowly with Ronnie at his back, a total slave to the heat that coursed from his nipples to his cock as the man continued to work both nubs in a dialing motion. He could hear the faint sound of traffic beyond the open door, it gave him a strange sense of duality between reality and his hidden desire to be used and humiliated. Only he didn't have to hide it here.

"'S'where sluts like you belong," Ronnie continued matter of fact. "On your knees or with that pretty ass up in the air."

Ronnie released his nubs only to lift his t-shirt, tugging it up over his chest until it was rucked up beneath his pits, Dean's head back against his shoulder. The stiff buds tingled at the exposure, so hard and yet so delicately aroused.

"Give me your mouth doll," Ronnie ordered.

Dean turned his head, lips parted and passive. The manager lapped at them, tickling between as he put skin to skin and grasped tender buds. He sank into Dean's mouth as it opened, tongue deep and invasive as he swallowed the breathy gasp of air that escaped. Ronnie chuckled into his mouth as he kissed him, teasing licks in and out as he tweaked and rubbed fleshy nubs.

"You're Ronnie's whore now, pretty baby," he whispered into Dean's mouth. "You'll be back because you won’t be able to help yourself."

Dean whimpered in denial as Ronnie smiled against his lips, but deep down...he knew it was true.

"These sweet little cow titties belong to me," he said. Fuck if Dean didn't almost come then and there at the possession in the man's tone.

There was no disputing the fact that at that very moment, they very much did. Ronnie stroked each nub with the pad of his finger, making small light circles on the tip of his nips. Dean's breath quickened, pushing outward with his chest for more as the man sucked on his tongue. He groaned helplessly.

"Bet that udder of yours is all sticky and hard too, isn't it?"

It was. His dick had been pressing against denim from the second his nipples hardened, had been leaking since Ronnie touched them.

"Take it out so Ronnie can see it."

Dean undid button and zipper and pushed the jeans down over his hips for easy access. He was almost painfully hard, cock jutting from a dark nest of curls. As much as it embarrassed him to be referred to as a cow, it turned him on even more.

The manager stopped playing with his buds and just held them.

Dean whined at the loss of stimulation, nipples throbbing between slack finger tips, hips canted as he offered use of his cock for anything Ronnie may want it for.

"Beg me to touch it," Ronnie ordered.

Dean preferred being gagged. Begging made him feel so exposed and vulnerable. It was humiliating...and so damn arousing that he could probably come from that alone. He took a little too long. Ronnie pinched one of his nubs in warning.

"Touch me...please," Dean hissed through the pain as it coursed through him and made his slit dribble.

"Next time, pet, we're gonna spend hours on begging so you can get good and familiar," Ronnie informed him. "Pretty whore like you should have begging down to an art form.

Dean felt his balls tighten and butterflies in his stomach, small noise of anticipation at the back of his throat. Oh, yes, he wanted that.

"You just follow Ronnie's lead for now."

Dean wiggled a little, hoping for some pressure on his nubs. The manager kept his touch purposefully slack.

"Gonna have to earn it, doll."

"Touch me. Touch me, please," It was what he wanted, what was chanting through his mind, all he could think to say.

"Touch what?" Ronnie teased.

"Cock, touch my cock."

"Udder, doll, it's an udder. You're Ronnie's little come cow, remember?"

"Please," Dean squirmed uncomfortably and finally uttered, "touch my udder."

The manager groaned. Dean imagined that fat dick was hard and throbbing but he couldn't feel it pressed against him due to the size of the man's gut.

"Call me master, pet," Ronnie's voice was filled with barely restrained, desperate lust. "Beg me to milk your sticky udder."

Dean hesitated, balking a little, but he was so into the game and hungry for even the smallest bit of pressure on his tits.

"Please, m...master," Dean begged, red-faced, eyes lowered, "milk my sticky udder."

Ronnie took his mouth almost savagely, calloused thumbs flicking roughly over sharpened peaks.

Dean cried around the tongue shoved down his throat, arching submissively into pleasure pained stimulation, panting for breath as Ronnie released him.

"Jesus," the man cursed, breathing hard. While Dean may have been on the submissive end of this twisted little relationship he'd found himself in, it was obvious that Ronnie was just as effected. "You're lucky I don't just keep you chained to the bed, doll."

The man's large hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Dean breathed through it, head thrashing on Ronnie's shoulder as he tried not to move. He didn't want to blow yet, wanted to draw this out as long as possible. Of the same mindset, the manager's other hand stilled on his tit, skimming down his flank to cup his balls in a rather firm grip. Dean bucked mildly as his sac was squeezed, felt the overwhelming urge to come ease back a bit.

"Please..." He still wanted, needed more.

Ronnie took him in hand, pumping slowly with a squeeze at the base and hitching upward gently with small flicks of his wrist. Dean very much liked having his prostate milked, but this was arousing to him in an entirely different way. He liked having his cock milked and being treated as property or a possession.

Dean rolled his hips, bouncing ever so slightly into each pump of the man's hand, just enough to feel really good without setting him off.

"Stick that pretty udder wherever you want, pet. Just remember, no matter who sucks on it or plays with it - it belongs to me," Ronnie growled softly.

Dean groaned as the tip of his dick dripped, nipples throbbing and aching in time with his heartbeat. Oh, yeah, he liked that. A lot.

"Just like that slutty hole and those sweet tits," the manager continued. "Mine."

"Oh, god...ungh," Dean whisper-breathed. "Fuck."

"Like that, pretty baby?" Ronnie panted smugly as the hot cock twitched in his hand.
He continued to slowly milk Dean, spare hand fondling his tight sac. The sinuous roll of Dean's body was answer enough.

"Remember how your dick felt in my hand when you pissed," Ronnie reminded. "How it felt in Ronnie's mouth - all soft and squishy as I sucked on it. How hot you were for Ronnie to whore you out. The way my tongue felt in your come dump after all those men paid to use you. The way I milked you like a cow, both ends stuffed full of meat as you bucked on the bed...so helpless and beautiful."

Dean was breathing hard and moaning as Ronnie continued.

"Don't forget how desperate those titties were for a fuck when you got here and how Ronnie bent you over the desk and took you. The way I tied you up and let my customers sample you."

Ronnie stopped moving his hand; let Dean thrust into his fist at his own pace.

"You loved it," Ronnie stated. "You loved it all. Didn't you, pet?"

There was no denying the fact that he did, but admitting it was another thing entirely. He couldn't quite bring himself to say it out loud. Apparently Ronnie was expecting an answer.

Dean whimpered as the man dropped his hand, hips continuing to work. Ronnie's hands went to his waist, Dean leaning against him, pants down around his thighs, neck curved over the manager's shoulder.

"Who do you belong to, baby?" Ronnie whispered in his ear. "Who are you going to go to when you need to be used so bad you can taste it?"

Dean panted heavily as he continued to rut against nothing.

"Who gets off on using you as much as you do?"

Head tossing, body squirming in frustration Dean finally, reluctantly breathed, "You...yours."

Ronnie latched onto the side of Dean's throat and sucked hard, holding his hips steady as Dean arched and mewled against him.

"Mine."

Dean felt his arousal crest like a high he couldn't get enough of. Knew that as much he didn't want to, he would be back. He wouldn't be able to resist the fix he got from this man.

"Yes," he whispered, wanting, needing, " oh, please..."

"You're getting the hang of it now," Ronnie said, "beg me nice and pretty now, pet."

"Touch me," Dean begged. "Make me come."

Ronnie lapped his lips, tongue slick and possessive as Dean panted open-mouthed.

"Ronnie's cow needs some milking?" he teased.

"Yes, oh yes, please....master, please," Dean's dick was bouncing off his stomach with each roll of his hips he was so desperate.

Dean bucked so hard when the manager's hand wrapped around his udder that his fingertips dug into the outside of Ronnie's thighs behind him.

"No," he thrashed in helpless, wanton arousal, "tits, milk my titties, please."

"Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about," Ronnie praised, then ordered. "Call them cow titties."

He'd say anything at this point to get what he needed. "Please, master, milk my cow titties."

Fingertips pressed into his pecs around the perimeter of each nipple, kneading and squeezing before working inward to tug away from his body. The metal in the peirced nub twisted just right as the manager alternated back and forth, using the perfect amount of pressure as he expertly milked Dean's nips. If that was all the manager offered, Dean knew that he would return for that alone.

His hips spasmed and he gave a cry of surrender as Ronnie worked him, grunting dirty encouragement into his ear as his dick twitched uncontrollably, spewing large spurts of come from his slit as his balls tingled with the release. Unable to talk, Dean rode it out until the last drop was milked free, wincing from the pressure on his buds as he slumped breathless against the hotel manager. He was oblivious to the occasional glances the manager made to the small camera in the corner ceiling of the room as Ronnie's wet tongue swirled over the whorl of his ear.

The man's deft touch finally left him and Dean felt him rooting around in his pockets for something. A wad of cash appeared in Ronnie's right hand, held so he could see it.

"This is your half of the take, doll," Ronnie informed him, stuffing it into the front pocket of his jeans. "You earned it."

The man reached into his left pocket as Dean continued to relax against him, catching his breath.
"I'm keeping the leash. You don't need it anymore," Ronnie informed him. He held up a pair of white silk panties in Dean's peripheral. "Wear these when you return."

Dean turned his head. Not exactly something he was into.

"Ronnie can't wait to mouth you through the silk or slip my hand into your panties to play with you," the manager sensed his rebellion and added a little incentive. "If you're a good boy maybe I'll plug you and tie you to the bed, let you rub yourself off against the silk while Ronnie sucks on your tits."

A small noise of interest worked its way from Dean's throat. The manager chuckled as he stuffed the panties in Dean's other pocket.

Large hands cradled his ribcage. Dean took the hint and shifted forward, no longer leaning against the man. Ronnie braced himself on Dean's shoulder's as he stood, unbuttoning his pants as he walked around Dean to stand in front of him. The swollen cock he eased free was an angry reddish, purple smeared with thick, sticky precome.

"Take it, pet," Ronnie ordered. "Suck it clean."

Dean wrapped his lips around the head, tongue swirling to capture the sticky residue as he looked upward through fluttering lashes. He knew what it did to the man and he wasn't disappointed as Ronnie groaned and more seed oozed into his mouth. Gliding slowly in and out for mere moments, the dick was suddenly pulled from Dean's mouth with a pop.

"Fuck the slit with your tongue, pretty baby," Ronnie ordered as he worked the base.

Dean did as he was told, flicking his tongue in and around, pressing into the large cock and withdrawing until the man blew his load without warning, spurting into Dean's mouth and all over his face. The manager continued to jerk himself off, rubbing his dick all over Dean's face as he did so. When it got to be too much he finally pulled back, smiling down at his pet. Finger under Dean's chin he tilted his face to the side so the camera could capture the come covered features.

"See you next time, doll," he said. "Remember who you belong to."

Ronnie tucked himself back into his pants and then turned and walked away, leaving Dean with his own come drying on his exposed flaccid cock and the managers jizz in his mouth and all over his face.

He felt used and discarded in a way that made him want to crawl on his knees to the office and beg for more. The memory of the way he'd begged and what he'd said making his face hot with embarrassment even as his stomach fluttered with remembered arousal.

Dean tucked himself into his jeans and zipped them up. Used the t-shirt at his neck to wipe the come from his face. He had clean laundry in his bag in the Impala. Pulling the wad of cash from his pocket he counted approximately $600. Surprised, but pleased with the take, he tucked it back into his jeans. The panties he didn't want to think about just yet, he stuffed them into the pocket so they weren't dangling free. He stood and put his clothes to right as best he could. Felt dry come on his face and his crotch and could still taste the manager. Dean rolled his shoulders and took a step towards the door. He felt loose and relaxed, ready to face whatever came at him.

He checked his watch. Plenty of time to make it to Sammy before checkout. Maybe he'd even have time to take a shower.

Chapter Text

Dean hadn't expected to be back so soon. But with a hunt wrapped up 200 miles away and nothing else on the horizon the temptation had been too hard to resist. Sam was under the impression he'd hit the local bar and probably wouldn't be back until morning anyways. He'd driven almost three hours to get here and would have to leave first thing in the morning to pick up Sam before check out, but he knew it would be worth the trip and the lack of sleep.

He'd stopped at a gas station just off the previous exit to slip on the panties Ronnie had given him. They felt strangely erotic beneath his jeans as they clung to his ass and hugged his sac, silk glued to the tip of his cock as it leaked in anticipation. It was just after 10 pm on a Tuesday night and the Little Sparrow looked deserted except for the old Ford pick-up parked in front of the office. Dean waited for a bit to see if whoever it belonged to would head to a room, but the office was empty. It looked as if Ronnie may have been entertaining in his personal quarters. Dean had a moment of hesitation about entering, but in the end decided he wanted whatever awaited him too badly.

The bell jingled above him as he entered.

When Ronnie appeared a few seconds later, scotch in hand, it was obvious that business was slower than usual. The manager wore his customary slacks, but instead of a dress shirt he wore an ill-fitting, snug wife beater. It hugged his belly and accentuated breasts that were larger than some of the women Dean had felt up. Dark chestnut curls peeked from the scooped neck and around the sides.

"Well," he said after a surprised pause, always seeming to recover quickly. "It must be my night for guests."

Dean's anticipation turned to hunger at the sound of the man's voice. Ronnie set his drink down as Dean walked around the checkout desk and came to him.

"Just passing through," Dean clarified to indicate that he didn't have much time, voice rough and unsteady.

"'S'that so," Ronnie said, unconcerned as he took hold of the hem of Dean's t-shirt and shimmied it up over his chest to expose tightly perked nipples. "And just how long do we have?"

Dean pulled his shoulders back and offered the man his nubs, answering a little on the conservative side "Eight hours."

The manager smiled and thumbed one of his nipples. "More than enough time to put you back in your place, pet,"

Dean barely heard him, too caught up in the feel of skin on skin as his nip was circled and grazed by the rough pad of the man's thumb. It was the pierced nipple, sans the hoop that he'd been gifted with during his last visit. While he enjoyed the feel of the piercing, he didn't want anything to interfere with the milking he was so hot for. Dean whimpered, so turned on by Ronnie's touch that he'd come from that alone if the man kept it up.

The manager tweaked his hard desperate nub and Dean felt his slit weep. He gasped, angling for more as Ronnie released him.

"I got you something doll," Ronnie said. "Ordered it weeks ago. It's been sitting here in my desk waiting for you.

The man opened the bottom drawer of the desk and reached for his gift.

Dean blushed hard as the man held up a collar. The leather looked soft and supple, like it would be comfortable, but it was the oversized cowbell charm on the front that had him turning various shades of pink. It was about the size of a fifty-cent piece.

"Like it?" the man's voice was all too knowing.

Dean dropped his eyes, shy and embarrassed, but answered honestly, "yes."

Ronnie's eyes were dark with lust and if Dean was hungry, the manager looked positively ravenous.

"We've not established this before, pet, but we have a good thing going here and I don't want that to change so...safe word, pick one."

His word came to him almost immediately. "Wendigo."

Ronnie cocked a curious brow and nodded, unfamiliar with the word, but didn't question it.

"Once this is on," he held up the collar, "you're Ronnie's cow. Mine. Understood?"

Dean's nips and groin tingled at the possessive tone, stomach fluttering with nervous and excited butterflies.

"Yes," he agreed, so very willing to give up control for a time. "Please."

The manager secured the collar at this neck and fingered the small bell. It fit perfectly and was very comfortable.

Ronnie pulled his t-shirt off over his head and dropped it to the floor, wanting an unobstructed view of his collar. Pushing Dean back against the desk he ducked his head and latched onto one of Dean's tits as he unbuttoned his jeans. Arching into the demanding mouth, Dean was left with a wet, needy nipple as the man withdrew all too quickly.

"What have we here?" the man asked, very pleased as he encountered the silk beneath Dean's denim.

He pulled Dean's jeans down roughly, leaving them mid-thigh as he stepped back to take a look.

The man was all but drooling as he took in silky, white panties that were a little too snug over his balls and obscenely tented with Dean's raging hard on.

Ronnie dropped to his knees and buried his face in Dean's crotch, inhaling his scent as he mouthed his way up the silk covered erection and took the head between his lips, moaning into the thin wet barrier that covered his slit.

Dean held onto the desk, head thrown back and gasping at the intense rush of arousal he felt.

"Such a good, good boy you are," Ronnie's words muffled around silk covered flesh. "Ronnie's obedient little whore."

Dean groaned, so very turned on by the praise.

The manager kissed his way up Dean's body, grabbing his hips to help himself up from the floor. He slurped and sucked on each nub, leaving a messy trail of saliva as he went.

"Off, now," Ronnie ordered, tugging at the denim bunched between his legs.

Dean kicked off his shoes and shimmied out of his jeans to stand somewhat awkwardly in his tented panties.

"Come," Ronnie took his arm and led him into his personal quarters. "Time to play."

Dean stopped short at the man sitting comfortably in the recliner. There was a dog next to him on the floor and the television was frozen, paused when Ronnie had gotten up to greet him.

"Ronnie hasn't entertained in a long time pet," the manager said. "Would you believe Tom and I were just talking about you?"

Tom's eyes were glued to the panties and the bounty beneath. He was easily as tall as Ronnie, but thinner, more wiry.

"Down on the floor, pet," Ronnie ordered. "Let him get a good look at you."

Dean went to his hands and knees, face averted. He could feel the weight of Tom's gaze as it travelled over his body.

"Turn around so Tom can see that pretty ass," Ronnie ordered, joining him on the floor.

Dean turned, self-conscious as the silk clung snugly to his cheeks and crack, part of his sac exposed.

Ronnie fondled his globes over the silk, fingers tickling at his balls as they slid between his legs. Unable to help himself Dean canted his hips, hoping the man would slip under the material and finger his hole. Ronnie laughed, prodding at it teasingly through the material.

"Shall we give our guest a taste?" Ronnie asked, pulling the stretchy elastic aside and exposing his pucker.

Dean heard the slight creak of the recliner as the man moved quickly to accept the invitation. .

"Just a lick...or two," Ronnie said. "A bit of an appetizer."

Tom's tongue was thick and strong as he licked a slow, wet stripe over Dean's starburst entrance. His entire body quivered, pressing back for more as he made a needy, embarrassing noise. Ronnie allowed the stranger another swipe before tugging the panties back in place.

Dean's balls were heavy and uncomfortably restrained within the silk. He rolled his hips and opened his legs wider to accommodate his swollen cock and sac.

"You want Tom to touch your ass, doll? Feel you up over your panties?" Ronnie asked.

Dean loved it when someone new touched him, he never knew what to expect, and each touch was new and exciting.

Dean wiggled his hips a little, pushing back towards the man.

Ronnie chuckled as his hand ran over the back of Dean's head.

"Ronnie's cow is a needy slut," he said to his guest. "Go ahead, Tom, feel how tight that ass is."

Tom's large hand roamed over his backside, rubbing against the silk, squeezing and pinching at his flesh.

"Stay away from his hole for now," Ronnie said. "We're gonna let it get nice and twitchy."

Dean whimpered his disappointment.

"Crawl around the room, pet," Ronnie ordered. "Show our guest what a well-trained cow you are."

Dean did as he was told, making a small circle around the room with the panties clinging to his sticky udder, his gait slow and careful. He felt awkward and self-conscious, having no idea that he actually looked like a large graceful cat as he shyly made his way back to the hotel manager.

Ronnie cupped Dean's chin forcing him to look up at him.

"Does the pretty cow say moo?" Tom lustfully asked from behind.

Dean felt himself prickling in embarrassment, pink heat spreading from his neck to his face and ears.

Ronnie threw his head back and barked a delighted laugh as if the thought had not occurred to him. He fingered the cowbell at Dean's neck. "The pretty cow will do whatever I tell him to."

Dean fucking loved that tone of voice, like he was owned and had no choice in the matter. The crazy thing was, he almost wanted to moo like a fucking cow. Not only because he knew how much it would please and arouse Ronnie, but because it would be the most humiliating thing he'd ever done. Just the thought shamed him down to his very core and burned white hot through his dick as it dribbled and throbbed in need.

"Won't you pet?" the manager thumbed a lush lower lip looking down at him. "Let's hear it. Moo for me, pretty baby,"

Dean's eyes slid away, hiding behind thick lashes. While the idea of it turned him on, he had trouble getting it out. But he'd been given an order and he did his best to obey.

His first attempt was low and shy, a barely audible whisper as he flared bright red. "Moo."

Tom and Ronnie laughed at his pretty blush and obvious mortification.

"Oh, you can do much better than that, doll," Ronnie encouraged, though it was obvious by sound of his voice the huge bulge in his pants that he was very extremely turned on. He spoke to Tom over Dean's head. "Give his udder a stroke, see if that helps."

From behind Tom slid a hand between his legs and stroked up the length of Dean's cock and back down.

Dean groaned, trying to hump the hand that disappeared all too quickly.

"Like that pet?" Ronnie asked as he panted and squirmed, desperate for more. "Show me. Moo like a dirty slut and maybe I'll let Tom tweak your udder."

Dean opened his legs wider to give Tom better access, wanting nothing more than for that large hand to wrap around him. He focused on how good it felt and how much he wanted, needed to rut against something. His next attempt was louder, but still self-conscious.

"Mooooooo," he fluttered his eye lashes for Ronnie at the same time, his skin alternating various shades of pink.

"Much, much better, pet," the manager praised, nodding to Tom to give him a slight stroke.

They teased him back and forth, cooing and stroking at him until he was mooing like a baby calf desperate for its mother's tit.

"Come on, doll, one more" Ronnie's voice husky, hot and demanding, "Moo like you've got a big bull dick stuffing your needy cow cunt. Show me how much you want it."

Need had long since consumed the last of his dignity, the deep groan that escaped him was easy enough to morph into Ronnie's request.

"Mooooooo," Tom jacked his silk covered udder in several short quick milking motions, "oooOOOOOOOOOOO!

It was guttural and Dean's entire body shuddered, thrumming with the need to come. His hips jerked and he whimpered as Tom released him. Dean stuttered in place on his hands in knees, on the cusp of coming until his balls were gripped tight and squeezed.

He cried out, bucking against the hold as the man roughly kneaded and tugged on his jewels. Slowly, the need to blow painfully eased to a more manageable level.

"Christ," Tom breathed, still fondling Dean's balls. "Pretty little thing gets off on it almost as much as we do."

"Oh, he does, trust me," Ronnie said. "Up on your knees, pet,"

Trembling and restless with need, Dean did as he was told as the manager manhandled him into place and tied his hands behind his back. He pulled Dean against him, back arching due to Ronnie's rounded beer belly.

"You like being used, don't you, pretty baby?" Ronnie spoke next to Dean's ear, and then to Tom, "He can't get enough. Keeps coming back for more."

Dean felt shame at the assessment, however accurate, as Tom's lust filled gaze met his. It wasn't necessarily that he wanted it or even liked it...but he craved it with every fiber of his being. Already he could feel that clawing need inside him beginning to ease.

Ronnie hooked the panties at his hip on either side and twist turned the fabric a little until it was pulled snug against Dean's hard on. Moaning in pleasure, Dean's hips were already moving, rubbing himself off against the material. The manager let him for a few seconds and then unfurled the material, allowing it to go slack, tenting once again.

Whimpering, Dean writhed against the man.

"Have you been practicing your begging, pet?" Ronnie asked. "I bet you have."

Oh, he most certainly had. Dean flashed to a memory a few weeks ago of being held down by a bartender who'd been eyeing him all night. After closing he'd spent close to an hour bent over a pool table, begging to come as the man fucked him with his cock and then with the rounded end of a pool stick.

"Show me," the manager ordered. "Beg Tom nice and pretty to play with your tits."

Ronnie tugged the panties snug, offering a little friction, a little incentive.

"You want it don't you?" Ronnie whispered knowingly.

Dean was a total slut for anyone new touching him and Ronnie knew it. His hard little nips were rising and falling with each breath, tingling in anticipation as the panties grew damp with precome.

"Yes,” Dean's quiet admission was low and urgent as he offered his nubs submissively, rubbing himself off against the panties. “Please, yes.”

"Ronnie's pretty baby is a nipple whore," the manager explained to his friend. "He'll do anything for some tit action. Go on, pet. Do it just the way Ronnie likes."

"Please, Sir," Dean begged, body glowing with a sheen of perspiration, lashes fluttering, "tug my cow titties...milk by slutty nubs."

Tom groaned and Ronnie slicked his tongue over Dean's ear, breathing heavy.

"Good boy," he praised. “Such an obedient little slut you are.”

"Please," Dean said again as Tom cupped the bulge in his jeans but had yet to touch him.

Ronnie loosened his grip on the panties, letting them go slack again. Dean whined pitifully.

"Rub at his tit tips," Ronnie ordered. "He's like a cat in heat."

Tight, furled nubs hardened further at the comment.

"Ungh," oh, yes, please, yes.

Following Ronnie's orders, Tom used the pad of his thumbs and rubbed lightly back and forth at the very tip of both nipples.

Dean rolled his body with a mewl, tossing his head on Ronnie's shoulder. It felt good but it was a small pinprick of sensation. He wanted more.

"More please," Dean panted. "Milk me."

"Patience, little cow," Tom said, showing no inclination of being swayed by Dean's plea. Instead he slowed his grazing, changing from back and forth to circular, opposing clockwork motions.

It made Dean squirm, desperate for more. Ronnie took pity on him and gave him some tension to rub against.

Trapped between the two men as they played with him, Dean felt more alive than he had in weeks. He felt a sense of freedom that he couldn't explain in allowing himself to be used, a sense of relief in submitting to someone else's control.

"Ronnie can feel your needy udder twitching against the silk," the manager said as Dean paused in his rutting to catch his breath.

Tom took that moment to fully grasp both stiff nips and twist them slightly. Dean surged against the manager, mouth open with a small breathless keen. Ronnie let the silk go slack at the exact same moment. Dean's hips jerked helplessly, cock throbbing and sticky as it bounced heavy within the panties.

"You want Tom to pluck those titties? Milk them back and forth?" Ronnie teased.

"Ungh, god yes," Dean breathed, "please."

"Tell Tom what a slutty cow you are. Tell him who you belong to," the manager ordered.

Despite his arousal, Dean's face pinked and he turned away slightly, all but panting his arousal. "I'm a slutty cow...please, please...milk me."

"Who do you belong to pet, who owns that pretty udder and those needy cow nubs?"

"You, master," Dean said obediently, desperately, "they belong to you."

Ronnie twisted the elastic of the panties around his fingers just enough to give Dean minimal pressure to rub against.

Dean's moan was both grateful and frustrated. He was so fucking hot to get off that it was starting to be painful.

"Moo for me pet," Ronnie ordered. "Moo like the horny, slutty cow you are until your udder blows."

Dean groaned, quickly turning it into a moo as Tom thankfully began to tug on his teats and Ronnie twisted the panties until they were snug.

Glorious jolts of pleasure fired straight to his udder and Dean lost himself in the sensation, going silent as his body seized.

"Fuck yeah," Tom said in that moment before the crest of his release overtook him, kneading each bud between thick fingertips. "Cream those panties like a good little cow."

Moaning brokenly, Dean bucked his way through an intense wave of white hot pleasure, cock twitching and spurting against damp silk.

"So hot, pet," Ronnie was saying as Dean came down, leaning heavily back against the man. "Such a good cow."

It satisfied Dean on a level he was unwilling to analyze when the manager was pleased with him.

The two men guided him to the sofa and before he knew it he was spread out with one leg on the floor and the other up over the back. His head and shoulders were in Ronnie's lap and Tom sat between his wide spread legs.

Hands trapped beneath him, Dean adjusted himself until they were more comfortable. The manager's hands roamed over his chest, lightly skimming his nipples before one slid lower and slipped into the messy panties. His junk was soft and jiggly inside the silk, covered with cooled come. Ronnie's big hand cupped his groin possessively, rubbing and wiggling his flesh. Spread as he was and with Tom watching, it felt dirty...Dean surprisingly turned on by having that large hand down inside his panties playing with him.

When the manager withdrew he left the crotch askew and part of Dean's nuts exposed. Both he and Tom watched as Ronnie licked the come from his fingers before he went back to stroking Dean's chest.

"You don't mind if we finish watching our show, do you pet?" Ronnie asked as he picked up the remote in one hand and fingered Dean's nipple with the other.

The television was kitty-cornered in the room. They all had a perfect view. Dean had noticed it was paused when he entered but it had been a mostly white, non-descript object and he'd paid it no mind. He was forced to once it started to play and he recognized the voice on the screen.

"Yeah," he heard Dale say. "Like that don't you baby?"

Dean saw himself in black and white on the television spread on the table in his room as Dale fondled his nipples and Billy jacked his cock. Just the sound of Dale's voice made his nips tingle but he was torn between shock and undeniable arousal.

"I've had a camera in that room for years," Ronnie said. "Planned on jerking off as I watched you change and shower. I had no idea those two boys were gonna knock you out and have their way with you."

Dean watched himself jerk as his seed spilled between the two men and remembered how helplessly hot and out of control he'd felt, how confused he'd been by his response.

"I watched them play with you all night. Saw how hot you were for it. The way you spread your legs when the big guy tugged on your nips."

Dean's hole began to throb at the thought of Ronnie watching him, maybe jerking himself off as he watched him be taken.

"I offered them the money back for their room if they'd leave you tied up when they left. They were more than willing. Told me all I had to do was play with your tits to keep you in line."

Even as Dean burned red at the assessment, his soft cock began to stir deep within and he shifted his hips at the need to be stuffed. Ronnie skipped ahead a few scenes.

Dean was mortified at the noises he heard himself make on the screen as Billy buried his face in his ass. Watched himself push back on that talented tongue and beg for more as Dale kept a firm hold on his buds.

"Oh, go ahead and play with his ass, Tom," Ronnie said to his guest as if he'd forgotten his manners.

The crotch of his panties were hooked to the side. Tom pulled his finger into his mouth before pressing the tip to Dean's entrance. Ronnie continued to absently play with the same stiff nipple as he watched the television. Tom wiggled his way in slowly, with in and out, back and forth thrusting but Dean still couldn't help the gasp that escaped him as the digit plunged deep past the ring of muscle. His back arched and Ronnie covered his pec with his hand and fondled it like it was a breast.

On the screen Dean watched as Dale tied his hands over his head to the headboard while Billy fucked his ass with a long-necked beer bottle. He'd been out at that point and had no idea it had even happened.

"Fuck, that's hot," Tom said, finger hitching in and out at his words.

There was a knock at the door on screen and Dean watched as Ronnie entered the room, making his deal with Dale and Billy and then climbing onto the bed between his legs as they left. Watched himself wake and then begin to struggle as the manager massaged his balls.

"Watch this," Ronnie said to Tom. "Watch the way he stops fighting when I suck on his tit."

Dean did more than stop struggling; he'd arched into the man's mouth and rolled his hips as he pumped into the hand that took hold of his dick. He'd felt like a slut in that moment...and watching himself now, he realized how truly he looked like one. His swollen cock gliding in and out of the man's stationary hand as he fucked into it with naked, needy noises.

Dean hissed as another finger breeched him. Thankfully Ronnie directed Tom to a tube of lube in the drawer in the end table. The man wasted no time pressing both fingers into him with a smooth glide. Both nubs were hard at the stimulation to his ass and Ronnie had stopped playing with them, distracted by what he was watching. Dean pushed upward with his chest and the man took the hint, rolling one between his fingers.

"You know," Ronnie said offhandedly, almost too casual, "you're very popular online, pet."

Dean stilled, suddenly both cold and hot at the same time. Fingertips worked his nubs delicately...expertly teasing them as Tom slowly pumped in and out of his ass, switching between one and two fingers.

"I uploaded a free teaser clip of the first time those boys milked your tits," Ronnie looked down at him as he spoke. Dean remembered how Dale played him so easily, had him fucking himself into Billy's mouth. "You wouldn't believe how many paid to watch the rest."

He wasn't at all sure how he felt about this information. It was kind of hard to really think about it with small pulsing tweaks of pleasure on each nub and a finger tickling his rim. It made him hot to think of Ronnie jerking off to him...but nameless faces paying to see him used?

"They love you, pretty baby," Ronnie flicked one of his tits, hard.

Dean gasped straining for more as Tom worked a third finger in.

"You've got a couple hundred subscribers who pay to watch you take it like the pretty submissive slut you are."

Dean had checked the email account Ronnie set up for him often, but he'd never responded or replied in any way. He'd come very close when the man sent everyone on the list a picture of him bound in leather strapping and blindfolded in the doorway of the office. He hadn't known the man was taking pictures. It had angered him initially and he'd felt a small sting of betrayal, but later that night he'd gotten himself off so hard in the shower just thinking about it that he was pretty damn sure Sam had some idea what he was doing in there.

"Ronnie posts a vid or a picture every so often just to keep them happy."

Dean thought of his last weekend long visit and how much material the man likely had. Looked like he was rolling the master copy for Tom tonight when he'd decided to show up out of the blue.

"Ah, one of my favorite bits," Ronnie drew his attention back to the television where he'd just gotten free from the bed and was rifling for his gun in his duffle as the manager talked to the Pepsi delivery guy. "I posted this in two parts. Made a pretty penny on the second part, too."

Dean remembered what had happened next all too well. It was the first time he'd submitted to the manager voluntarily.

He was having a hard time paying attention to the commentary and video with the three finger fuck and the tit flicking going on. Hips grinding, chest straining for more he decided he really didn't give a fuck about what Ronnie was doing on the internet. The picture he'd seen was a bit grainy and with the blindfold and gag no one would ever know it was him.

His cock was just starting to get with the program again when Tom withdrew his fingers, leaving him suddenly empty. He watched as the man got up and moved back to the recliner.

"Tom was nice enough to slick your hole and open you up, pretty baby," Ronnie said. "Be a good boy and go sit on his prick for me."

Tom removed his pants and sat at the edge of the chair with his large proud cock standing stiff and swollen. Dean got up and fought the urge to adjust his panties. They were still all askew with his cock trapped and his bag exposed.

"Turn around," Ronnie commented, but Tom's hands were already on his hips, turning him to face the manager tugging at the seat of the panties and stretching them over to one side. He let Tom guide him completely, hands pressing into his hips as Dean straddled his legs, thighs trembling as the man ever so slowly inched him up and down his length at will until he was fully seated.

"Fuck, you're a tight bitch," said Tom, voice strained.

It burned despite the fingering. The man was pretty big. Ronnie's gaze slid over him like oil, taking in the slight glow of perspiration on his skin, perked cherry nubs, the wide splay of his legs and the currently lax genitals between them.

Tom leaned back as far as he could, hands falling to the cushions at the side - his intent to relax and let Dean ride him to orgasm with minimal effort on his part. Dean rolled his hips, testing his balance. The balls of his feet touched the floor but not his heel, not much leverage there. He used the muscles in his thighs to lift himself, hitching up and down on Tom's cock. It was a rather small movement, but effective by the sound of the harsh panting coming from behind him.

Ronnie watched him. Relaxed back against the sofa with his drink his gaze alternated between Dean's face and his groin as he fucked himself on Tom's dick.

"Move a little faster, pet," he finally commented. "Wiggle that slutty udder."

Dean obeyed, riding harder and faster. He could feel Tom fighting the urge to grab his hips and rut up into him, instead remaining still and letting Dean do all the work.

On the television screen Dean presented his ass to Ronnie, gun in hand as he tilted his hips. He blushed hard as he heard himself beg that first time.

Ronnie laughed and downed the last of his drink before slowly rising and walking the short distance to the recliner.

"My shy, pretty little cow," he purred as he went to his knees, hands settling on Dean's open thighs. "Don't have a clue what a treasure you are do you? No idea why you need this."

Dean was too busy bouncing on Tom's cock to get all introspective. He tended not to analyze such things anyway. He would never fully understand why being used and humiliated was such a turn on for him, or why he was so willing to submit to anyone who took what they wanted from him.

Ronnie crooked a couple of fingers and toyed with his floppy udder, batting at it softly as it bounced. Dean moaned, a flare of heat deep in his groin.

"Like that?" the manager asked smugly.

"More," Dean breathed, more plea than demand. "Play with it...please."

Dean grew more excited as the manager wiggled and flicked at it, breathing faster, squirming restlessly on Tom's dick. He very much missed the gag, loved the way it muffled the sounds he couldn't stop himself from making.

Head back, eyes closed Dean surged and almost lost his balance when Ronnie pinched an unsuspecting nub, alternating with a small tug back and forth between tit and udder. Breathing harshly, Tom gripped his hips, holding him tight and steady, flush against him.

Rocking against the hold, Dean mewled gently, enjoying the pleasant tweaking of his cow bits and the fullness in his backside.

Beneath him Tom began to jerk, small movements up inside of him, grunting with the effort to restrain himself and not rut mindlessly. Dean felt him blow, twitching hard against the heat of his body, knew there would be fingertip sized bruises on him by morning.

Before his guests dick could begin to soften inside of him Ronnie was on his feet again, hands under Dean's pits he lifted and pulled him from Tom's lap. Dean was spun around and forced over the stranger's lap, head between his hip and the arm of the chair as his knees hit the floor.

"Wider," Ronnie ordered. Dean parted his knees and canted his hips as he heard the man's zipper descend. "Love to see that puffy hole dripping for me."

There was no preamble. Ronnie took advantage of the fact that he was already stretched and slick and plowed in full to the hilt with enough force to move the entire chair a couple of inches. The manager wasn't as long as Tom but he was wider. Dean couldn't help but cry out at the abrupt intrusion, high-pitched whimpers rolling into the thick cushion as the manager drilled into his ass with the force of a jackhammer. It was relentless and jarring, Ronnie getting a good grip on his hips as Tom's hand settled between his shoulder blades.

"Bet no one fucks you like this do they, pet," Ronnie's voice ragged and breathless. "Everyone wants you, but they can't give you what you need, can they?"

He'd come close a time or two, been fucked pretty rough, but no...no one could give him what Ronnie did. Ultimately they all ended up doing the same thing...worshipping his body in some way. Dean didn't want to be worshiped. He wanted to be used.

It didn't take long. It never did. The sound of slapping skin filled the room and then Ronnie was grunting his release, sweating and cursing as he did so. Still breathing heavily, he slipped out of his cow and pawed through his box of toys.

"Time to plug up that come dump, doll," he said.

Dean could feel how sloppy wet and stretched he was. Using his finger the manager pushed some of his come back into Dean's hole. He felt it dribble right back out. Slurping up the excess, lewd tongue flitting all around his open hole, Ronnie cleaned him until he was pink and spit-shined before fucking the plug into place - fiddling with it until it was secure.

Tugging the panties back over his ass the man pressed his nose into Dean's crack, inhaling his scent, mouthing and nipping at the fleshy mounds through the silk.

"Untie him," Ronnie said to Tom as he tucked himself back into his pants.

Once his wrists were free they took him to the floor on his back.

"Hands over your head, doll," Ronnie ordered as Tom pulled his jeans back on.

They stretched out next to him on either side; Tom forced to move the coffee table in order to do so. They each took a wrist, pinning him to the carpet. Dean breathed a little faster between them. If he couldn't have the gag he'd at least wish for the blindfold. The sleep mask at least gave the illusion that he wasn't so vulnerable and exposed. Both men looked down at him with intent and hunger and he squirmed against their hold. Dean's semi hard cock stiffened a little more, rising inside the panties as their hold tightened. His legs were bent at the knee and slightly parted.

He groaned so loud when their mouths latched onto his tits that he heard the jingle of the dog’s collar as he stirred next to the chair. Arching into their greedy mouths, legs falling open, Dean didn't care about anything beyond the hot pull of suction on his nubs and the fully stuffed feeling in his back side. He was rolling his hips, enjoying the way the silk felt as it clung to his groin when he felt the first press of the dog's snout. His head came up with a sound of alarm as his balls were nosed and nudged.

"Jake here's got a taste for come, pretty baby," Ronnie informed him as the dog's tongue caught on the silk and the inside of his leg.

"No," Dean begged, absolutely red with mortification and practically vibrating with a quicksilver sensation at how naughty good it felt.

"Oh, yes," Ronnie whispered as he milked Dean's spit covered tit. Dean’s urge to close his legs was in direct conflict with the desire to spread them wider as the manager lewdly fondly his nub.

Dean's entire body flushed with color as the dog sniffed and prodded his erection.

It was shamefully hot and unbearably humiliating. "Please..." Dean wasn’t even sure what he was begging for.

Ronnie gave that deep throaty chuckle he did when he was really turned on. They plucked and sucked at Dean's tits until he was arching and writhing, hard cock bumping against Jake’s curious snout as they toyed with him.

"Unnggghhh," Dean managed helplessly as fur tickled the inside of his thighs and they widened to accommodate the pooch between them.

"Yeah, want it don't you, pet," the manager breathed as he watched the dog prod and try to lick Dean's sausage through the silk, "legs spread like a whore."

Breathless and weak with arousal, pinned between the two men Dean whimpered, conflicted by this newest development.

Until Ronnie reached between his legs and tugged the silk crotch aside, exposing his bag and giving Jake his first good swipe of Dean’s junk. It was so dirty, but so fucking good that he couldn't help but gasp at the sensation. Dean turned his head to the side as Jake lapped at his nuts, but there was no place to hide.

"Feels good doesn't it, little cow?" Tom chimed in as he continued to tweak at Dean's stiff bud.

Dean's hole throbbed around the plug as Jake sniffed at it insistently before bouncing his full sac up and down with the force of his tongue.

Dean whined almost embarrassingly loud.
Ronnie peeled away the damp silk at the tip of his cock. Jake's long tongue immediately curled around the head and flickered over his leaking slit.

"Oh, oh...oh, god...fuck," Dean whisper groaned as the dog grew more enthusiastic for his come once he’d sampled the milky substance.

Dean's hips jerked and his nipples perked to sharpened peaks.

"That slutty udder's dripping all over the place," Ronnie pointed out. "Like that dog tongue don't you, pretty baby,"

Dean wanted to deny it, he did, but he was so hard that each swipe of the dogs tongue was ultra-sensitive on his heated flesh. He opened his legs wider, whimpering as Jake nudged his swollen cock aggressively. Ronnie humiliated him in ways he never would have imagined. It turned him on, and got him off, for months after they parted. Dean had a feeling he'd be reliving this particular moment for a long time.

Tom grasped the base of his cock and held it at a steady angle so Jake could get at his dick without it bobbing away. Whatever resistance Dean had left melted into the carpet with the rest of his brain. His back arched, legs going lax in submission as his mouth opened and closed with random, baby grunts as Jake lapped at his head with short, focused strokes. Dean could feel his slit oozing more come with each amazing stroke.

Ronnie flicked each tight, straining nub hard, cutting through the haze of arousal.

"Please," Dean begged on a breath of ragged air. He didn't even fully understand what he wanted, but he knew Ronnie could give it to him.

Tom and Ronnie each still had one of his wrists pinned over his head, Ronnie looking down at him as he went back and forth between his tits, flicking at them randomly and Tom holding his cock steady for Jake. Dean could do nothing but groan and writhe like a bitch in heat as they played with him.

“Tell me how much you want his tongue in your ass,” Ronnie ordered. “Beg me for it. Call me master like a good boy.”

Dean felt his body heat in embarrassment even as it prickled in arousal.

"Please, master..." Dean breathed, body overloaded by sensation as he paused.

Ronnie leaned down, lapping at the open seam of Dean's lips. Grasping the tit closest to him he gently fondled the nub, squeezing and releasing it, turning and kneading it. Small pulses of warmth coursed through Dean’s body and right out the end of his dick and into Jake's mouth. It felt absolutely heavenly. When Dean's mouth fell open in appreciation, Ronnie slipped his tongue in, slowly thrusting and fucking into moist heat with soft, hungry noises. The man seemed to really get off on the forced intimacy of kissing him.

"Say it, pet," Ronnie encouraged hotly, "beg for it like the pretty little slut you are."

"Ungghhh, god," Dean moaned softly into the man's mouth, "please, master, please...I need it. Please let the doggie tongue my ass.”

"Jesus," Tom cursed.

"Want it don't you?" Ronnie continued, intermittently plundering the lush mouth.

"Yes," Dean begged, "yes, oh yes, please," Dean's hips were rocking, Tom doing his best to hold the swollen cock in a position for Jake.

"And what does a good little cow say?" the manager teased, pulling back only slightly.

Confused Dean whimpered and pulled against the restraints not sure what the man wanted until his cowbell was fingered.

"Moo," he panted breathlessly, "moo....please...moo...moomph!"

The manager took his mouth roughly with a possessive growl. Dean whimpered into him as Tom released his cock and reached for the plug. Ronnie tugged his tit hard and fast before letting go and hooking Dean's knee. Come oozed from his stretched hole, Jake already lapping at his crack, as the plug dropped to the carpet. Tom hooked his other knee and the two of them lifted his ass from the floor.

Dean nearly choked as Jake's long, curled tongue slicked deep into his hole. He'd never felt anything like it in his entire life. He mewled low and helpless into Ronnie's mouth before going silent as his hips seized. At this point the manager pulled himself away from Dean's lips to watch the action below. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Dean's hips jerked uncontrollably. The press of the dog's snout tight beneath his balls as Jake unapologetically tongue fucked his ass to get every last drop of come triggered a wave of molten heat that exploded from deep within. His untouched, throbbing cock twitched again and again, almost painfully before forceful spurts of come erupted with a release that had him gasping for breath and losing track of everything else.

At some point they released his wrists and lowered his knees, but Dean was too spent to move. He lay there exhausted, chest heaving as the two men bit gently into his nipples and began to nibble - Jake content to lave at his groin. Occasionally he made a small noise as one of them worried a sensitive nub, but he had no inclination to move otherwise. He wasn't sure how long it went on, but eventually his body cooled, his breathing evened out and he slowly came back to himself.

"Never had anyone get off that quick just on his tongue," Tom commented.

The manager chuckled, unsurprised.

"Barely have to tickle that slutty hole and he shoots off," Ronnie said, matter of fact. "He loves having it played with, don't you pet?"

Apparently the question was rhetorical as the manager gave him no time to answer.

"Roll over," he said to Dean, a hand on his hip to assist him. Then, "ass in the air."

They tied his hands at the small of his back and ripped the soiled panties free.

"Stay there and look pretty, doll," the manager said with a final slap to his ass as they returned to their seats to watch him on screen.

On his knees in the middle of the living room he was on full display. The position also gave Jake free access to him and the dog took advantage, lying down behind him and licking at his ass and between his legs at dangling cock and balls. This is what Dean craved in those long months between visits. The humiliation, the degradation, the way Ronnie talked about him like he was nothing more than a pair of cow titties with a hole and a pretty udder. Dean heard himself groaning onscreen as various men fucked into him, men that had paid Ronnie to have a go at his ass. It didn't take long at all for him to stiffen again. Dean found himself embarrassingly aroused at being ignored and left for Jake's amusement as Ronnie gave Tom a running commentary on how much he'd charged for the various uses of Dean's body onscreen.

 

At the first sniff and glisten of precome, Jake grew more insistent, shoving between Dean's legs to get at him. The moan that escaped him was involuntary as that powerful head moved between his thighs, ticking the sensitive skin. Hips rocking in small, barely there movements Dean whimpered and begged for every random scrape of Jake's tongue as his cock continued to fill. He didn't notice the television had been paused again until Jake was suddenly gone and hands wrapped around his biceps and hauled him upright.

"Good boy," Tom and Ronnie said at the same time. The only difference was Jake was getting a pat on the head while Dean was being fit with a cockring.

He whined, hips jerking.

"Easy there, pet" Ronnie soothed, pulling something out of his pocket. 'Want this?"

Dean's demeanor went from frustrated to excited. His anticipation showed on his face and in the excited little noises he made.

The manager slid the gag between his lips and tied it at the back. "You've earned it, doll," he said.

Groaning into the material, Dean looked up at the man gratefully. Ronnie thumbed his lower lip.

Ronnie reached into his other pocket. "Remember this?" he asked

Dean's tits stiffened to attention at the sight of the nipple leash and he pushed them forward, hands twisting in the silk behind his back. He wanted. Whining lightly into the gag he moaned and rolled his body as the manager clamped each eager bud, the small chain connecting them cool against his skin.

The manager held the longer chain up in front of him but instead of attaching it to the small nipple chain at his chest as Dean expected, the man attached it to the ring at the base of his cock.

The lust in Ronnie's eyes as he leashed his pet's cock was almost palpable.

"We're gonna take a walk, pretty baby."

The two men each took an elbow and helped him to his feet, allowing him a moment to stretch out his legs.

Ronnie led Dean from the room with his hands tied behind his back and the gag firmly in place. Tom followed behind them as the manager led Dean through the office and out the door into the night air. It was late, and dark, but there was still a potential for a vehicle to pass them by on the road. Ronnie was fully dressed, Tom in only his jeans and Dean naked except for the cock ring and leash.

They stopped at the first blue door and Ronnie pulled a master key from his pocket.

Over the next hour or two they christened each room down the line with some form of debauchery. They left each door open as they went and Jake was free to come and go as he pleased. In that first room Dean was ordered to hump Tom's leg and whine like a puppy. In the next he alternately sucked on Ronnie and Tom's balls under the table as the two men played a game of cards to see who would fuck him next. In the next room he gave Tom a blow job as Ronnie fingered and teased his rim. The next he was bent over the table so Tom could fuck him - Jake taking advantage of his position and lapping at his bobbing cock beneath the table as Tom pounded into him. Dean wasn't sure but he thought he saw the flash of a camera as dog and owner shared him. The next he was made to climb up on the table so the manager could lick and suck Tom's come from his hole. It was sloppy and obscene and Dean enjoyed it so much that he pressed back for more, moaning as that fat talented tongue speared his needy hole. The next room Ronnie untied his hands and fucked him in the doorway on all fours, half in and out of the room.

In the next room they made him kneel on the bed and plant his hands on the floor. On either side of him the two men parted his cheeks and watched closely as Jake slicked greedily into his hole to glean all of Ronnie's come. Not only did it feel incredibly good, his leashed cock heavy, swollen and angry colored between his legs as the dog's snout prodded him and the long tongue fucked into him, it was the running commentary between the two men that had Dean bursting to come.

"Look at the way it flutters around his tongue," Tom said as Jake obliviously did his thing. "He fucking loves it."

"Neediest tits and the hungriest hole I've ever seen," Ronnie stated. "Watch this."

 

The manager slipped a finger into the shiny pink pucker and hitched it in and out. Dean groaned loudly as Jake continued to lap around the digit, his hips jumping as he pushed back.

They rubbed at his rump, massaging his globes as the dog ate him out.

The last room, his room, they tied him down on the bed, spread-eagle as he whimpered and begged through the gag. He was a quivering mess at this point, so desperate to come that his eyes were watering. Tom and Ronnie stood back and watched him as he writhed on the bed in his restraints, heavy cock bouncing and sticky-tipped. He didn't care how he looked at this point he just wanted to get off and he'd do anything to get there.

They let Jake up on the bed. Dean turned his head as the dog licked at his face, gasped in surprise as the dry scrape of his tongue flicked over a clamped nipple, and then humped and keened with needy abandon as the pooch focused on his weeping slit.

"Damn," Dean heard Tom say to Ronnie. "You sure lucked out with this kid."

"Don't I know it," the manager agreed.

Their gazes met and held for a brief second, each of them as turned on as the other by the arrangement between them.

"Down boy," Tom ordered at Ronnie's request. Jake obeyed immediately.

"Take off the clamps," Ronnie ordered.

Tom kneeled on the bed and removed them. Dean's tightly furled nubs pricked with arousal, begging to be touched. Ronnie took the other side, eyeing Dean's raging erection. He removed the cock leash but left the ring in place. Spread out like a starfish Dean could do nothing but pant and squirm, looking up at them hopefully.

"Spank his tits," the manager said to Tom.

The first open handed slap to his nub had Dean crying out and arching against his bonds. Tom spanked the other one sharply. His nips were so hard and tight that they ached, the tingle more of a burn as it shot to his groin. He'd barely recovered from that when Ronnie slapped his very full, very sensitive bag.

His howl turned into a mewl as he jerked helplessly between them, all but begging for more. It hurt, but it was such a good hurt he couldn't get enough of it. They teased him with the promise of a spanking only to gentle fondle him. He never knew when he was actually gonna get a slap until it came. He was incoherent, making noises he had no control over and wasn't even aware of as they played with him. When his tits and bag were red and sore and stinging, they let Jake up on the bed again to soothe the heated flesh.

"I'm gonna let you come now, pet," he heard Ronnie say. Dean practically sobbed at the words, exhausted and limp against the bed.

His cock twitched painfully as the ring was removed and his mouth opened in a silent cry. His hips moved and he was right on the precipice of coming, but unable to do so.

"Lap at his tit tips," Ronnie said, moving into position.

Small, wet, random kitten licks flitted over sharp peaks. Dean gasped as the ever so slight stimulation ignited a powerful wave of heat that tore through him. He was pretty sure he screamed before he passed out, entire body jerking and seizing at the force of his orgasm.

When he came to he was alone in the room with the door open. He could tell it was early morning by the light outside before he even turned his head to look at the clock. He was naked and unrestrained on the bed, limbs stretched to each corner, the gag also gone. It was just before 6 am. He relieved himself and glanced around the room enough to realize his clothes were not available to him. He thought about covering himself with a towel or a sheet, but he could see Ronnie watching him from the office. He stood at the door and listened for any sign of a vehicle on the highway. It was quiet. Dean walked naked to the office, adorned only by his collar.

The bell jingled as he entered, radio playing low in the background as Ronnie sat at his desk. Dean's clothes were folded in a neat pile next to him. Ronnie wore the same clothes he'd been in when Dean arrived the night before, a pair of brown slacks and a snug wife beater that barely contained his substantial man boobs.

 

"We're short on time, doll," Ronnie addressed him, always mindful of the time frame Dean gave him. "Kneel and give me a proper farewell."

Turning in his chair the manager opened his legs for Dean. He expected the man to pull out his dick, but instead he tugged aside the top of the ribbed tank and exposed a flabby breast.

"Suck on it," Ronnie ordered.

Dean took the tit, tonguing the flat harry nipple. The manager pushed into his mouth, one hand going to the back of his head and holding him in place. Every once in a while Dean would look up at him, shy and submissive as he suckled, enjoying the way the man's breath would quicken and he'd shift in his seat. Partially hard with morning wood, Dean's own cock began to firm and rise, sticking out away from his body between the manager's legs.

With his free hand, Ronnie shook a small pill bottle, holding it close within Dean's line of sight. It was nondescript, obviously a prescription pill bottle, but the label was missing. There were about two dozen small pills at the bottom.

"These are for you," Dean continued to suck, watching as the man tucked the bottle into the front pocket of his jeans. "Take them morning and night at least a week before your next visit."

Dean eyed him curiously.

"We're gonna milk those cow titties for real next time, pretty baby."

Dean's dick went rock hard at the comment, presumptuous as it was.

"They're perfectly safe and there are no lasting effects once you stop taking them," Ronnie assured. "I sent some information to your account. You can look them up online."

Intrigued, Dean figured he'd do just that. Later.

"This will take some planning on both our parts," Ronnie informed him. "I'll need to know when you're coming to get the word out."

The manager looked down at Dean as he suckled contentedly on his hairy tit.

"Ronnie's gonna strap you down and offer your milk filled titties to the highest bidder, let them milk you dry...maybe play with your leaky udder."

Dean moaned at the visual alone.

"Yeah," the manager breathed lustfully, "Ronnie loves to watch as his pretty baby is used."

Drawn to the sound of human interaction, Jake wondered into the room looking for attention. He explored the small office before deciding Dean's ass was way more interesting. He lapped at the rounded mounds, covering them with wet strokes and causing Dean to start in surprise as the velvety snout pushed insistently between his thighs.

Ronnie reached between them and unbuttoned his pants, taking his dick out.

"Drop to all fours and suck me, pet," he said.

Dean did as he was told, the manager holding his cock at an angle where he could suck on the head and lick at it like a lollipop. Jake continued to lap at him, eventually working his head beneath Dean to lap at his wet cock tip. Dean moaned around Ronnie's dick as his own bounced and bobbed, dripping a steady stream of precome for the dog to savor.

Mouthing and sucking at the large cock in his mouth, probing at the slit, Dean slowly began to notice that Jake was getting a little more aggressive and enthusiastic. The dog had returned to his ass and was pressing his snout in tight against his hole, prodding at him roughly. When his front paws went to Dean's lower back he made a noise of distress and would have pulled off Ronnie's cock if the man hadn't jerked forward and stuffed him full to the back of his throat.

"Easy, pet," he soothed. "Jake here's fully trained and he wants to knot that pretty ass of yours."

Dean's eyes widened. Ronnie laughed hands going to each side of his head and holding him in place, pumping his dick in and out, watching Dean's lips stretch around him. Dean felt something firm and sticky poking at him as the dog tried to line up his cock with Dean's hole.

 

"Easy," Ronnie said again as he began to wiggle and panic. Dean looked up, meeting his gaze. It was a test. How much control would he let Ronnie have? Was he ready to use his safe word? It all happened so fast and as he was contemplating just how far he was willing to take things when Jake found his mark and plunged deep. Dean gave a muffled scream around the cock in his mouth. He was still slick and loose from Ronnie and Tom so it didn't hurt per se, but it was still shocking and powerful as the animal immediately began to rut into him.

"There's my good boy," Ronnie praised and Dean could see how much it was turning him on. "Take it like a good little bitch."

Despite being completely horrified, Dean's erection didn't wane. And even if it had, the constant, steady pounding of his prostate would have brought him right back. Jake didn't have a whole lot of finesse, but the short, sharp snap of his hips soon had Dean moaning, hips tilting for the best angle as his body responded. It helped that Dean couldn't actually see what was happening. Mewling and drooling around the fat dick in his mouth Dean was both shocked and embarrassed by the sudden clawing need to come at the base of his spine. He whimpered in shame, looking up at the manger.

"Udder's gonna blow before Jake even pops his knot, isn't it?" Ronnie chuckled breathless and dirty, turned on as always by Dean's humiliation.

Dean tried to hold it back, but it was no use. High pitched whimpers wrapped around the manager’s slick flesh as the crest of his release had him bucking and jerking on Jake's cock, spurts of come erupting and spattering to the carpet beneath him. His ass was still clenching around the dog's dick as Ronnie's swollen member muffled the undeniable sounds of pleasure emanating from him.

"Fuck yeah," the man stuttered, tracing one of Dean's brow's as his face flamed red hot. "Ronnie's needy little boy likes doggie dick, don't you, baby,"

"Well isn't this a sight to wake up to," Tom drawled sleepily from the doorway.

That was just about the time Jake's thrusts grew erratic and Dean felt a moment of increased pressure at his anus before sudden painful stretching burned around the rim of his hole. It hurt, a lot, and he made a noise, but before he really had time to panic, it was a done deal and the pressure eased. Ronnie's cock was all but throbbing in his mouth, bitter taste of come a slow and steady leak.

Jake had stopped moving and was panting above him as Tom went to his knees next to them. His large splayed hand slipped beneath Dean and spanned his lower abdomen.

"Jake's gonna fill you up good, little cow," he said. "That sweet ass of yours is gonna drip all fucking day."

The man had learned quickly how responsive Dean was to nipple-play. He stroked up the center of his torso and tweaked each hard perked nub. Dean groaned pitifully at the contact, wanting more.

The manager pulled his dick from Dean's mouth long enough to push the chair back out of the way. He went to his knees in front of Dean and had Tom to the same.

"Suck us both off, pet," he ordered. "Jake's got your ass, may as well put your mouth to good use."

It was a bit awkward, but both men angled to so the heads of their dicks were sliding together as Dean tried to take them both. He ended up having to go back and forth between them as they pumped themselves at the base. Ronnie came first, pulling back and blowing his load all over Dean's face as he sucked off Tom. Tom followed shortly thereafter, taking the manager's lead and covering Dean's face as well.

Both seemed to take great pleasure in rubbing their semi-hard cocks all over his face, tracing his lips and chin and lightly slapping him with their softening meat.

"Grab a tit," Ronnie said to Tom. "See if we can milk one more out of that slutty udder of his."

Dean's body responded immediately, flushing wtih the tingle of arousal, even as his well used cock barely twitched. Sparks of pure pleasure zinged to his groin and had him bucking and moaning again as his cow titties were tugged. He felt the pull of the knot in his ass as he moved.

 

Ronnie reached between his legs with his free hand and wiggled his junk. Tom's free hand went to the curve of his ass, squeezing and massaging beneath the tickle of fur.

"Come dry if you have to, doll," Ronnie said, then, "you're not leaving until that udder is spent."

And fuck if that tone of voice didn't go straight to his cock.

In the end they did eek one more hard fought, small orgasm from him that left him rung out. By that time Jake was done pumping him full of come. The dog pulled out in a flurry and immediately turned to lick at the oozing hole.

"Plug him up, Tom," Ronnie ordered. "He can drive wherever he's going with a load full of doggie come."

By the time Tom had the plug secured, Jake had wandered off. Tom ran his hand over Dean's ass and gave him a slap before getting to his feet.

"You're a rare treat, little cow," Tom said to him, then to Ronnie, "thanks for sharing, man."

He disappeared into Ronnie's quarters, leaving Dean alone with the manager.

"Up on your knees, doll," he said.

Still on all fours, Dean obeyed, feeling stiff and sore in various places. Taller than him by a couple of inches, Ronnie fingered the collar and cowbell fondly.

"Moo for me, pretty baby," he said.

Dean blushed and lowered his eyes but did as he was told.

Ronnie's smirk was both smug and affectionate as he eyed his pet. Dean could feel the dried come on his face. He closed his eyes when a wet tongue traced over flakes and spots that were still wet. The manager lapped at Dean's lips, parting them, slipping in and out in quick swipes.

"Open," he said.

Ronnie liked to plunder Dean's mouth, going deep and rough. Dean opened to him passively, letting him take what he wanted. When the manager wanted more of a response he took both nipples, squeezing and twisting until Dean gasped and made pretty little sounds that he could swallow.

Ronnie pulled back, still playing with his nubs, and kissed Dean's nose.

"You were something else, pet. Such a good boy," he said sincerely.

Dean blushed again, looking at him beneath lowered lashes, unaccountably pleased at the praise.

The manager ducked and flicked his tongue over sensitive cherry dark nipples, one at a time and then tugged on them back and forth in that special way he had of milking them.

"Next time I tug on these teats, I want milk. Understood?"

Dean nodded.

Ronnie reached around him to unfasten the collar. Dean suddenly felt more vulnerable without it.

"It'll be right here when you need it again," Ronnie said as he placed it in the bottom drawer, his comments strangely in tune with Dean's thoughts. "Get dressed."

Ronnie handed him his t-shirt. Dean pulled it on over his head. The manager handed him his socks and helped him balance as he put each one on. Jeans were next, but when Dean went to button them Ronnie stopped him. Instead he gave Dean his boots and waited patiently for him to tighten and tie the laces. Dean stood, pants open.

"Take out your udder."

Reaching into his pants Dean eased his flaccid flesh free. Soft, pink and vulnerable, it dangled over the denim and cool metal of the zipper. Ronnie adjusted the waist of his jeans and carefully buttoned them, leaving the zipper down.

With slow deliberation, the manager batted his exposed udder back and forth and then bounced it off his finger. Ronnie smirked at Dean's groan, as if he'd been expecting it.

"I want you to play with your udder as you drive wherever you're going in that fancy car of yours. Play with it until it gets nice and hard. Then I want you to milk it nice and slow...while you're driving."

Dean could feel the flush of arousal flooding through him again.

"Keep going until you blow a load of that sweet come all over your steering wheel."

Ronnie ducked and took his soft dick into his mouth, sucking and slurping on it. It slipped from his lips, covered with saliva and lay limp against Dean's jeans.

"See you next time, doll," he said.

The manager disappeared into his quarters, leaving Dean to let himself out. Before he opened the door to leave, he heard the video pick back up where it had left off hours before. The plug was slightly uncomfortable as he slid into the Impala but he squirmed and wiggled until he found a good position. One hand on his udder, one on the steering wheel, Dean spun out of the lot to one of his favorite tunes - exhausted, but feeling so much more alive than he had eight hours ago.

Chapter Text

“Ready?" John asked.

Dean was fresh from the shower with a towel around his waist. He nodded, self conscious but with a flutter of anticipation in his belly. It had been a month since the curse and they'd fallen into a bit of a routine. Dean knew John felt guilty about killing the witch before extracting the reversal spell, but in a way it had been a blessing. After Sam had left for Stanford things had been strained between them and they'd begun to drift apart. Were it not for this...it would only have been a matter of time before they'd separated for good. The curse had forced a more intimate bond between them. Now John was attentive to him in a way he'd never been before and Dean had to admit, he soaked up the attention and the affection like a needy sponge.

It never occurred to him and he would never know that John had gotten the reversal spell from the witch...he'd simply chosen not to use it.

"On the bed," John ordered. "Lose the towel."

Dean let the towel drop, body flushing as John's intense gaze travelled over every inch of skin and settled on his fat udder. He hadn't been milked since that morning and he was all but dribbling and ready to burst.

For the most part his cock still looked the same but instead of getting hard and curving to his belly like it used to, it dangled heavy and full between his legs. Soft and flaccid it was easy to tuck out of the way, but when it filled with milk it would slowly swell until there was no choice but to milk it in order to relieve the pressure.

Dean walked to the bed, legs wider to accommodate the swollen udder, and climbed onto it on all fours. He whimpered in discomfort as the heavy udder swayed beneath him.

"'S'okay, sweetheart," John's voice was sand paper rough and it sent a tingle down Dean's spine. "Daddy's got you. Gonna make you feel better real soon."

Dean loved the pet names. John only used them during milking and they were tinged more with lust than affection, but he'd take what he could get.

John kneeled on the bed next to him. "Open," he said.

Dean opened his mouth as John fit the bit into his mouth and secured the strap behind his head. It was an effective if uncomfortable gag. The leather leash dangled freely until John tied it to the headboard. Daddy liked his cow tethered. And the gag, well, Dean tended to make a lot of noise when he was milked.
It was a very sensual experience.

John's hand ran over his back and then down over his rump, tapping at the inside of his knee in an unspoken order. Dean spread his legs wider.

"Good boy," his father praised.

His entire body was flushed pink. He felt so exposed and vulnerable, embarrassed but turned on as his father placed the small stainless steel milking bucket beneath him.

He heard the scrape of a chair as the man sat behind him, ready to start his bedtime milking.

Dean startled as a cool hand wrapped around his jewels, massaging firmly.

"Sorry," John apologized, rubbing his hands together and returning them, slightly warmer.

His balls were so full they were sore. Dean didn't know the mechanics of how the curse worked, but it helped his milk let down and the milking went much smoother if his sac was given the proper attention.

"There you go," John said, rolling and kneading them until his udder began to drip drop into the bucket.

Dean couldn't help but groan as John took him in hand. His udder was extremely sensitive, another side effect of the curse, and he could get off several times during the process - his come mixing with the thin stream of sweet milk.

His father liked to stroke his udder when it was full and tight, moving up and down its length as it twitched, touching but offering no relief as Dean whined loudly and squirmed in need.

"Easy, baby," John cooed rough and possessive, "Daddy's here."

Dean's udder was more sensitive than his dick had ever been. When he was hot like he was now and badly in need of a milking...he was almost helplessly responsive.

The first squeeze and pull of his teat had his hips jerking and his legs widening as he practically humped John's hand.

"Yeah, Daddy's cow is nice and desperate, aren't you?"

Dean's high pitched mewl was answer enough.

John loved the noises he made. Dean could tell by the way his breathing changed, rough and quick, and the way he could get Dean to make them whether he wanted to or not. His father loved to milk him as much as he liked being milked and could tease numerous orgasms out of him in the process.

John set an almost clinical rhythm until the painful pressure began to ease, each small squirt hitting the bottom of the metal bucket as Dean whimpered in relief with each pull. Once his body began to relax, tension slowly draining through his udder along with the first forceful squirts of milk, it didn't take long for the discomfort to be replaced with something much more pleasant, the feeling of fullness making way for the arousal that had been there all along. Dean's hips began to roll in time with John's tugs and a low, deep throated moan vibrated through the bit in his mouth.

John ran a hand over the globe of his ass and gave him a pat. "There you go, sweetheart."

Were it not for the fact that he could get off multiple times, Dean would be embarrassed by how quickly he could orgasm. His hips hitched as he felt it build at the base of his spine.

"Don't be shy, baby," John encouraged as he continued to stroke, voice growing firm as he continued. "Come for Daddy."

The order, the tone of voice, the way John angled his udder to drink straight from him was enough to set Dean off. John's mouth was eager and hungry, suckling at his dick with the single minded intensity that he put into everything. Dean could do nothing but moan and jerk helplessly in place, hips stuttering as his father drank from him. John's hand continued to squeeze at his udder, pumping the delicious combination of come and milk into his mouth. The lewd noises of pleasure he made vibrated around the sensitive flesh all the way up to Dean's balls.

John finished him off with a slurp and a suck, gobbling at the head of his dick until all he could taste was milk.

"Fuck," John released his spit slick udder and let it hang over the bucket, voice wrecked in a way Dean rarely heard it. "So good, Dean. You're doing so good."

Dean was embarrassingly grateful for the praise as always. For almost a full minute there was nothing but quiet breathing and the feel of John's calloused, capable hand on his udder as he was milked proper. He let himself relax, sinking to his forearms, an easy tilt to his hips as his father took care of him. For a time he was lost in the warm, sensual glow of his release.

His father's next words shattered the moment.

"Daddy's gonna taste your ass, sweetheart."

Dean barely had time to process before the wet warmth of John's tongue stroked over his starburst entrance.

The noise of surprise Dean made was muffled by the gag as his entire body prickled with a sudden spike of arousal. As intimate as the milking process was, his father had yet to touch him there...though it felt like they’d been slowly working towards this since his first milking. His mewl broke on a whimper as John kitten licked his opening, small baby-like sounds catching on the bit in his mouth. Dean's hips jerked in small uncontrollable stutters as electric sparks shot to his tits and udder. His nipples tingled, hardening almost painfully.

Dean could already feel his world narrowing down to John's slick and skillful tongue. He'd always been a bit of a slut for rimming but to have his daddy be the one to taste him there....just the thought alone was
enough to have his pucker throbbing with intense and desperate need.

John released his udder and Dean felt it sway between his legs. His cheeks were spread wide as John teased him, lapping and prodding at his twitching hole with the tip of his tongue. His father's face pressed into his crack, inhaling his scent.

"Nnnngggghhhhh," Dean canted his hips shamelessly. Please, please...please...

"So pretty. So needy," John said more to himself, then," Show me, Dean. Show Daddy how much you want your hole stuffed."

Dean whined pitifully, pushing back into John's face enthusiastically, as much as his position would allow. John laved at him, swathing his skin with saliva as Dean begged.

Everything else dropped away as the tip of his father's tongue breached him.

John wiggled in deep with an eager growl, lips sealing around Dean's hole and mouthing at him.

"Unnnngggggghhhhh," Dean bucked at the intense explosion of sensation, body trembling as John's slick demanding tongue speared into his ass, fucking in and out with strong and steady thrusts.

There was an obvious sense of ownership and possession as John ate at him, claiming his hole. Rough stubble burned sensitive skin as he pressed in close, slurping, sucking and fucking at him.

Desperate and vulnerable in a way he had no control over, Dean begged incoherently, panting and drooling around the bit in his mouth. Yet he also felt safe with the knowledge that he could let go and his daddy would be there to take care of him.

John took him apart inch by inch until he was quivering and whimpering like a wounded animal split in two. Despite that Dean held his ass high and continued to hitch back for more.

"God," John groaned into him. "The way you look, the way you sound...so fucking hot, sweetheart."

John's skilled tongue pierced into him again

Dean's udder hung neglected between his legs, the tip sticky with precome as he pushed back for more.

"Yeah," John ordered. "Fuck Daddy's tongue, baby, come on."

Dean didn't disappoint. Before long he was rocking and moaning, corkscrewing his hips as John growled and grunted his encouragement. When his father's focus faltered, the thrusting of his tongue erratic, breath stuttering as he came with a soft, uncharacteristically vulnerable keen against Dean's ass...it was enough to set him off as well. Dean bucked sluggishly, coming hard and untouched with a muffled cry as John came back to himself and replaced his tongue with his finger. He slid in deep and quick and Dean could feel his muscles clench tightly around the digit as his father crooked his finger.

He had no control over the full body seizure the movement caused or the strangled scream that escaped him. Dean was pretty sure that he'd completely blacked out, if only for a second or two. When he came to John was easing the bit from his mouth. He watched as his father downed the contents of the small milk bucket like it was a shot.

Dean felt his hair spike as John ran a hand over the top of his head. "On your back, kiddo."

Dean complied, feeling boneless, tired and sated. His udder lay lax between his legs as John wiped him down with a warm cloth. Urging him up, John eased in behind him on the bed. Dean relaxed back against the broad chest, his father's legs on either side of him.
His nipples could remain stiff and tingly with arousal for hours after a milking. He'd tried to hide it from his father at first but his discomfort was obvious and John had been all too willing to help him relieve it.

Threading his arms beneath Dean's, John grasped his buds, gently squeezing and then tugging on the furled peaks.

Despite getting off twice already, Dean arched as tiny sparks of pleasure zinged downward to pool in his groin. Head rolling on John's shoulder, he turned into the curve of his neck, whimpering against the skin there as his father plucked at his titties. It didn't matter how tired or sated he was...his nips were hardwired to his cock and he couldn't help but respond.

John could and would play with them for hours, fingertips fondling the perked and needy nubs with relentless attention to detail, always finding just the right amount of pressure and stimulation to keep Dean on the edge but never quite push him over.

Dean gasped, pushing outward with his chest as John used the edge of his thumbs to flick back and forth over the very tips of his tits. They were so tight and hard that it kinda hurt...but it was a good hurt, the kind that sent blood to all the right places. Arching, he strained for more contact.

"Please, daddy," Dean begged as his udder began to fill again.

"Please what, baby?" John asked, voice uneven.

Dean knew what he wanted to hear. It made his face burn hot just thinking about it. He could feel the hard brand of his father's cock on the right side of his lower back.

"Milk my cow titties," he begged. "Please daddy, please."

"Soon, sweetheart," John soothed. "Daddy wants to play with you first."

John could milk an orgasm from him in a matter of seconds just by tugging back and forth on his tits, but the man rarely did so. He liked to wait until Dean was squirming and desperate.

He pressed his fingertips into the muscle of Dean's pecs, kneading and squeezing at the flesh, then tweaked his aching nubs.

Dean gave that pitiful little puppy whine that his father seemed to love so much.

"You have your mother's tits," John said after a long moment of rubbing the furled buds between his fingers.
It wasn't unusual for John to mention her. Dean didn't respond but for the slight twinge of his heart whenever he thought of her.

"So responsive," he flicked each nub in turn just to prove his point.

Dean whimpered, arching for more, aching buds tight and sharp with arousal.

"So beautifully submissive in a way your mother never was"

Instead of flicking them again, his father swirled the pad of his fingers over the stiff peaks, lightly grazing them.

"Daddy's needy little cow."

"Ungh, yes," Dean groaned, breath hitching as the relentless grazing started to burn pleasantly.

For close to an hour John toyed with him, bringing him to the edge and keeping him right there.

"Please..." Dean's hands were fisted in the bedding on either side of him, legs bent and wide, he was nearly nonsensical in his need to come. "Please..."

"Jesus," John whisper cursed. "Daddy could play with your nipples all night long, sweetheart."

Despite his need to get off, just the thought had his nubs prickling with pleasure. Dean's swollen udder dribbled milk and come, heavy and full between his legs again. He cried out as John twist-turned his titties and gave them each a tug. His body was already rocking and jerking in John's arms as the man steadily milked him back and forth.

It took him longer to come without direct stimulation to his udder, but when he did...he came hard. The sound he made was like that of a wounded animal - raw and deep, vulnerable to his very core as he writhed helpless and exhausted in the grip of his release.

John's breath was fast and harsh in his ear as the last bit of come eeked from his udder. The line of his jaw settled briefly against the sweat damp hair at Dean's temple before turning and planting a kiss there. Dean couldn't move if he'd wanted to. He felt as weak as a newborn kitten, panting softly in the quiet of the room.

He recognized the slight time shift when he opened his eyes and realized he'd dozed off. His father still had possession of his nipples, lightly stroking and pinching the puffed buds.

"We're low on cash," John shared. "The new cards haven't come through yet."

Dean drifted back towards oblivion. He was aware of this.

"I've made an arrangement with the hotel manager," John continued. "We're gonna stick around for a couple of days. I'll explain the details tomorrow."

Dean fell asleep to gentle but persistent tweaks of too tender nubs.

He slept well and felt well rested when he woke. Despite the fact that Dean had fallen asleep first, John was already up and dressed.

"Take your shower," he said. "We've got a busy day."

By the time he'd done his business and showered he was ready for his morning milking. He ate the breakfast sandwich his dad handed him and was about to assume his position on the bed.

"Here," John stopped him. "Hold still." Dean hissed as the nipple clamps bit into sore, swollen buds. They hurt. A dull throbbing ache immediately bloomed in his groin.

His father had surprised him with the clamps shortly after the curse. Dean was surprised by how much he liked wearing them. John often used them as a reward for good behavior and liked to short circuit Dean's brain occasionally by randomly tugging on them.

"On the bed," John ordered without preamble.

John tethered him to the headboard again with the bit but didn't take a seat behind him. Instead he moved back to the small table and the laptop and looked over the newspaper. There was a knock on the door a few minutes later and a semi-hushed conversation before John returned to the bed and sat down where Dean could see him.

"The manager has been gracious enough to let us stay free of charge," he said, meeting Dean's gaze with a level of silent expectation that demanded compliance. "It's time to show our appreciation."

Understand?

Dean nodded, uncertain, mouth stretched around the bit.

"Good boy," John stood and gave a nod to the manager.

Dean watched as his father returned to the small table to continue his research and couldn't help but feel the hurtful sting of betrayal. He could feel the presence behind him, gaze crawling hungrily over his exposed backside and swollen cow bits.

A blunt thumb pressed against his hole and then pushed inside. Dean's surprised cry was muffled by the bit. His body bucked against the dry intrusion as it wiggled inside of him and moved forward and back. He heard a deep throaty chuckle.

"Easy there, pretty baby," the voice said. "We're just getting started."

Dean had an odd sense of déjà-vu. He couldn't see the man but had the strange sense that he knew him.

The manager hefted his balls with a hum of approval and gave them a sharp pat. Dean startled like a spooked horse to the man's amusement. When the man lewdly fondled his udder Dean had no control over the deep throated moan that escaped him. His entire body flushed with color and he felt his father's regard. Obviously enjoying the reaction the man gave a long, slow stroke of his udder.

Dean shuddered and pumped helplessly into the large beefy hand, reluctantly aroused by the stranger's touch. The man laughed when he released his udder and Dean continued to hump open air.

"Oh, you and I are going to get along just fine, doll," he said.

Dean could feel that his face was beet red and hot. It didn't help matters when the manager wiggled his udder back and forth and then lifted and released it to watch it sway. He whimpered uncontrollably and tried to spread his legs wider, hoping for more, even as he closed his eyes in shame.

"Fuck," the manager breathed, clearly affected, "can't help yourself can you, pretty baby."

Dean couldn't he realized. He'd thought that the arousal was specific to his dad. Now he realized it didn't matter who milked him...he would submit to whoever took his udder in hand. It was more than a bit disturbing and alarming to realize that should he ever be milked against his will - he would moan like a bitch in heat even as he was being violated. The realization should have sickened him, and maybe it did, just a little...but it turned him on more. He wasn't ready to even remotely admit such a thing to himself...but he could feel it in the tight coil of molten heat in his balls.

"Open him up," John tossed a tube of lube at the manager.

Dean couldn't properly pout due to the bit in his mouth, not that John would have noticed. His father had already returned to his paper. There was something terribly erotic about being ignored by his father as the hotel manager played with him. He couldn’t even begin to define it...but he was surprised to find that he liked it.

The manager opened him up slowly, taking his time and enjoying himself as he eventually worked three fingers into Dean's ass. He found Dean's prostate easily, angling with careful, teasing thrusts before focusing more insistently on the gland and massaging mercilessly.

Dean soon lost himself, oblivious to the noises he made, drooling around the bit as he begged. His body glistened with sweat as his hips jumped, pinched nips throbbing in time with his heart as he trembled from the inside out.

"Yeah, there you go" the manager cooed, free hand roaming over Dean's lower back and slipping beneath to skim over tensed abs even as he continued to tickle that special spot deep inside.

The tip of his udder was sticky and dribbling. It hung heavy and painfully full, skin warm to the touch and pulled too tight. Just when Dean thought he couldn't stand it any more the man began a shallow thrust. He was close, so close...on the very verge of coming when the fingers withdrew completely.

He whined pitifully, unable to help himself, body bouncing and rocking as he sought release.

The man behind him chuckled, patting his ass.

"He's ready," he man said to John.

His father nodded, looking up from the laptop and sparing them a glance. He wasn't as unaffected as he seemed. Dean could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice.

"How many?" he asked.

"A dozen or so. All I could round up on short notice," the manager responded.

"Payment?"

"In advance," the manager stood and took a wad of cash from his pocket. He counted half out and dropped it on the table in front of John. "$100 per milking."

John eyed the cash and left it where it was.

He met Dean's gaze for a suspended moment. "Let them in one at a time."

Dean's udder twitched at the lust in his father's voice

The first customer went to his knees on the floor at the end of the bed, hands automatically stroking up the back of Dean's thighs and over his cheeks. He huffed around the bit and hitched his hips back. He needed to be milked. Badly.

The manager chuckled again. "Guess that’s your cue to get on with it," he said to the stranger.

Dean was so desperate for it at this point that he wanted...needed more than a hand milking. He needed a hot hungry mouth to suckle the milk from him. He wiggled impatiently as the strange hand fondled his udder, squeezing and releasing experimentally. More. He needed more. Now.

Suck me, suck me, suck me hips moving in time with his internal mantra. Please...just suck me.

He didn't care who wrapped their lips around his udder so long as someone did.

"He paid extra to be the first in line," the manager crouched next to the bed, leaning in at Dean's shoulder. "Be a good cow and make sure he gets his money's worth."

Dean found himself actually wanting to please the manager.
The customer finally, blessedly took him in his mouth, sucking the sticky mess from his flared head and then swallowing him. Dean's moan was so deep he could feel it to the tip of his toes. He cried out as he blew and instinctively began to rut. Never had he been so happy for the way his udder could angle and pivot than when the man relaxed his throat and allowed Dean to udder-fuck his mouth.

Loud, satisfied moans tickled at suckled flesh until Dean's hips stuttered and then slowed with the last of his release. Every ounce of remaining tension went with it, leaving him lax, like a rag doll. He panted through the subsequent milking, his udder slick with saliva, as the sweat cooled on his body.

The manager practically purred his pleasure next to him.

"You were made for this, doll. You're a natural."

Loose and relaxed after the initial orgasm, Dean produced a steady flow of milk for the men that followed. Whether he wanted to be or not, he was aroused by the anonymous hands and mouths that fondled and suckled him. John ignored him for the most part, but occasionally he would watch with a hunger that settled low in Dean's groin. The one time Dean's milk did slow, after several customers; the manager all too kindly fingered him open and massaged his prostate again.

Towards the end the man pulled out his bit. While Dean liked it, he couldn't help but flex his jaw and stretch open his mouth. The customer on his udder was the last, milking his tender teat with slow deliberation as he sucked contentedly on Dean's balls with warm suction. Dean was embarrassed to admit, even to himself, how good it felt.

"I could think of better uses for this."

The manager fingered his lips, circling around his mouth. He stuck a finger inside, thrusting it in and out lazily as Dean's mouth closed around it.

He leaned forward with a whispered smirk. "You like it don't you." It wasn't a question.

The finger in his mouth pulled free and was suddenly tugging on one of the nipple clamps. A jolt of renewed arousal tore through Dean's body. He groaned, humping into the hand wrapped around his udder.

"Daddy's little rent-a-cow," the manager mused. "Can you moo for me, pretty baby?"

Dean flushed red to his roots, but there was something hot and familiar about the request.

"Come on," the manager encouraged, twisting the clamped nub subtly. "I know you want to."

When Dean unconsciously pushed into the man's fingertips, seeking more, the manager was quick to take advantage of the tell. Threading his free hand through Dean's arms he took hold of the other clamp and began to manipulate them both.

There was nothing to do but surrender to the intoxicating sensation. Dean bucked and groaned, uncaring oh how wanton he appeared. He just didn't want it to stop. The man on his balls sensed the change in him, sucking harder, milking faster as the fiery tingle in his tits spread downward with each calculated pull.

"Ungh," Dean grunted softly and then begged, "More...more, please..."

"I'll twist them back and forth until you come," the manager promised. "All you have to do is moo for me."

Dean ducked his head. He didn't look, but he knew John was watching. The manager tugged teasingly at each nub, just enough to make him desperate for more.

"...mooo."

Barely audible but to Dean it felt unbearably loud.

"Good for a first try, doll," the manager praised. "Now do it like you mean it."

For incentive he milked at the nubs in time with the hand on Dean's udder until Dean was quivering and nearly keening with need.

"Now,” the manager said.

It was easy to obey once ordered.

Dean's groan morphed to a guttural, "Moooooooo."

"Jesus"

"Fuck"

"Christ"

The final was from John who was up and moving from the table, no longer content to be a passive observer. Grabbing the customer by the back of the neck he simply ordered, "OUT!"

Dean heard the sound of John's zipper and the jingle of his belt seconds before the door slammed.

"You," spoken harshly to the manager. "Take his mouth."

John's hands tugged at his hips, pulling him back, even as the manager quickly complied, joining him on the bed.
“My pleasure,” he said.

The head of his father's cock pressed against his opening, slippery with precome as the manager quickly undid his pants. Dean's adrenaline surged, mixed with undeniable arousal at the thought of John fucking him. The sticky tipped cock in front of him smeared its offerings all around his mouth and lips as his father breached his rim, stretching him with just the head of his dick inside. Dean bucked reflexively, grunting against the intrusion.

The manager took advantage of his distraction and forced his way into Dean's mouth. The sound he made was muffled by the swollen member.

"Suck, Dean," his father ordered rough and low.

He did as he was told; sealing his lips around the manager, bitter fluid seeping onto his tongue as he suckled.

"Yeah, just like that, pretty baby," the manager rested a hand on his head, small thrusts in and out of his mouth.

He moaned softly, not realizing he'd done so until the cock in his ass twitched noticeably at the sound. He did it again, mixing in a whimper and a slurp. Dean could feel John fighting the urge to rut into him, breath quick and ragged, hands tight and possessive on his hips.

He wanted his father to lose control. He wanted to be the reason why.

John liked it when he made a lot of noise during his milking. John liked him tethered and helpless.

Dean had been taught to follow his instincts so he did so now.

He mewled, small and vulnerable, struggling slightly between the two men. It wasn't all for show. He felt a little claustrophobic, anxiety mingling with arousal.

It seemed to excite both men. He struggled some more, whimpering around the cock in his mouth.

John groaned behind him.

The manager pulled out his dick and tapped the meat against the side of Dean's face.

"'Moo' for daddy, pretty baby," he ordered.

Dean liked the bit for a reason. He felt too exposed without it.

Eyes lowered, skin a pretty shade of pink, he gave a shy, "moo."

There was no doubt he would have hand sized bruised on his hips tomorrow.

The manager chuckled and inserted his dick back in Dean's mouth.

"Again," he ordered.

Knowing the affect it would have on his father, Dean balked in refusal, a noise of distress escaping him as the manager fucked deeper into his mouth. He struggled in earnest, bucking between the two cocks that impaled him.

He wanted it. Had been expecting and hoping for it...but it still stole the breath from his lungs when his father growled and slammed deep inside in one swift movement.

He was trembling, breathing harshly through his nose, body slowly adjusting to the abrupt intrusion even as his skin prickled with the fire of arousal. He could feel the fuzz of John's balls pressed against him, the smooth steel of his daddy's cock laying claim to his ass.

"Do as you're told, Dean" John said.

The order alone was enough for compliance. But it was the strained, shaky way his father spoke that did funny, fluttery things to Dean's belly.

It took him a couple of tries before he could get his voice to fully cooperate. The manager didn't bother at all to give him any leeway, happy to have his dick rammed down Dean's throat.

It was muffled and pitiful, sounding more like a sick baby cow than anything. "...oooooooooo."

Apparently it was enough. His struggle was real and instinctual as he found himself suddenly and roughly fucked from both ends. John's grip on him felt like a hot brand on his hips as his father pounded him relentlessly, the manager holding his head and fucking his mouth with no regard for his ability to breathe.

Dean did his best to take in air through his nose and not panic. It was harder than he thought, his body reacting without permission as he squirmed and thrashed between them. The men using him loved it, groaning and cursing loudly as they fucked him. They didn't seem to care if he was getting off on it or not...and that in itself had his blood pumping south and pooling in his groin. His nips throbbed almost painfully, feeling the glorious bite of each clamp.

He was the first to get off, jerking beneath his father's hands. Humping as he was fucked, his udder dangled and bounced, swaying heavily as it twitched and spurted his release. John made a noise Dean would never forget as his ass contracted around the deeply buried dick.

The manager was next, burying himself to the hilt, pubic hair tickling Dean's nose as warm spurts of come hit the back of his throat. Dean choked and gagged and eventually swallowed every single bit of it as John continued to rut into him. The fingers in his hair loosened as the meat in his mouth softened. He suckled the flesh like a tit as the sound of slapping flesh became erratic.

The sound that escaped him came from deep within, breathless and muffled, but easier to identify now that his mouth wasn't so thoroughly stuffed.

"Mooooooooo....."

He barely recognized his father's voice just before his hips seized.

"Fucking Christ," part whisper, part groan, part sob as he filled Dean's ass with the same seed he was born from.

John shuddered after the first wave, grinding against him with tiny grunts, as if he just couldn't get enough. When he was too soft to do much more than squish around in there, John curled over him, panting harshly.

The fingers gripping his hips flexed and then released him, the warmth at his backside suddenly replaced with cool air and come drool as John pulled out of him and made a beeline for the bathroom. The door closed firmly.

The manager graciously allowed Dean to suck on his flaccid cock for a bit longer before tucking himself back in. Stretching out his legs next to the bed he walked over to the small fridge and helped himself to a beer. He downed half the can before coming to stand behind him.

Dean had his head lowered, resting on folded arms. A thick finger poked in and out of his slick hole.

"Seems a shame to let this go to waste," the man said, licking his finger clean.

He didn't wait for an invitation or permission, simply pulled up John's milking chair and made himself comfortable.

Dean could feel him back there, close but not touching, a whisper of breath on his damp opening.
“Park yourself on my tongue and I’ll clean that pretty little come dump for you,” the manager informed him.

Dean was surprised by how much he wanted it, how much he wanted his father to open that door and watch him squirm in helpless need on the manager’s tongue. Dean lowered his shoulders to the bed, arms close to his side. The movement lifted his ass higher, left him more vulnerable as he pressed back, searching for the promised appendage.

He shifted slightly, scooting on his knees, tilting his hips back and forth, seeking blindly for the moist point of the man's tongue.

"Yeah, that's it," the manager praised, backing off slightly and making Dean work for it. "Come on, doll."

He was embarrassed by what he was doing, knew what he must look like...but he couldn't seem to help himself. He whined, unaccountably turned on.

Dean wiggled his ass...seeking....groaning in satisfaction as a stiff eager tongue plunged into his slick looseness.

The manager proceeded to enthusiastically suck and slurp John's come from him. It was loud and obscene and Dean's mouth fell open even as his eyes closed with shameful pleasure. His entire body felt loose and warm, like he could melt into the bed...the tongue rooting inside of him the only thing holding him up.

Eventually the bathroom door did open, but Dean's eyes were rolled so far back in his head he couldn't pay it much mind. When the manager couldn't get at the deepest reserve of jizz he resorted to using his finger, scooping deep, and maybe rubbing a little at Dean's prostate while he was there.

When his pucker was pink and shiny clean the man moved lower, lapping and licking at him like an excited puppy, swathing everything in his path with thick saliva. Dean was kinda hoping the man would suck his balls but instead he just bounced them around on his tongue like a toy he couldn't get enough of. They felt bruised by the time he was done and had moved on to his ass cheeks, licking long stripes over them and nipping at the meat.

A large hand wrapped almost gently around his udder, just holding it.

The contrast between the dirty treatment his ass was getting and the soft touch on his udder was intoxicating. He pumped into the hand, wanting more, wanting to be milked. It loosened around him and Dean keened his disappointment.

Face pushed close, laving aggressively at his backside, Dean felt the burn of whiskers and the press of the manager’s nose as he made muffled, hungry noises against him.

The inside of fingers stroked carefully up his udder, a caress more than anything. Dean bucked, pushing back into the man's face. The manager laughed delightedly.

"Quite the slutty cow you've got on your hands," the man said to John.

His father was at the table again.

"I've noticed," he said without bothering to look up. The words were dismissive but the voice entirely too unsteady. His father was as turned on by this as he was.

"Should I leave him like this?" the man asked.

John looked up then, gaze meeting Dean's and sliding up the curve of his back and down over the profile of his ass.

John gave a decisive nod. Dean whimpered in distress, the need for release urgent. The curse made his recovery time almost immediate, but he'd never come this many times during one milking. He was tired but still so very horny.

The manager submitted to John's authority but Dean got the impression he'd be happy to do otherwise.

Dean squirmed under his father's hot gaze, udder uncomfortably full. His hips jerked instinctually and they both just watched him as he humped ineffectively.

"Come to daddy, sweetheart," John said after a moment.

It took a second for the order to permeate, even longer for him to get his body to obey. Dean felt weak and off balance as he stood, wobbling unsteadily. John had closed the lap top and set it and the newspaper on the counter within reaching distance.

"Turn around," he said. "Lie down on the table."

Conditioned to not question any order this man gave, Dean obediently did as he was told. The table was relatively small and round. The trunk of his body fit perfectly from just beneath his ass to the top of his shoulders. His legs dangled as he leaned back, John supporting him as he did so.

"Hand's behind your back," John ordered.

Dean flattened them one on top of the other against the small of his back and the table, holding his neck stiff. There was no support for his head.

"Relax."

Dean did so, slowly letting his head fall back until all he could see was the pattern of John's plaid shirt and the small brown buttons.

"Have a seat," John spoke to the manager.

He heard the scrape of a chair and a felt the air swirl on his inner thighs as the man pulled up to the table and spread his legs wider to accommodate his place at the table.

"You’re dripping, pretty baby."

Dean could feel it, had no control over the dribble of milk leaking from him. Udder heavy and full between his legs.

His breath quickened and his tits tightened in anticipation, chest rising and falling.

John barely fingered the clamps and he was arching with a cry and panting through the small twist of flesh.

The man between his legs was content to caress the inside of his knees with a thumb and watch for the moment.

Dean was a fucking slave to his nipples. Small upward tugs, teeth biting into the furl had him losing what little inhibition actually remained. His tits tingled in pain filled pleasure as John manipulated each clamp with just enough of a pull to ignite a line straight to his udder. He could imagine how it looked between his legs, the tip smearing come on the table as milk continued to dribble freely. Dean could feel the managers gaze on it as it twitched.

John flicked each clamp. Hard. The manager tightened his grip on Dean's knees when his entire body wanted to react. Gasping and writhing he couldn’t help but push upward with his chest, straining for more.

"Please, daddy," Dean begged.

Carefully, John released the clamps. Plump, tender and oh so sensitive buds felt delicate and new - as if the smallest touch would be too much. The air itself caressed and aroused.

His nipples were sensitive on a good day. His father knew what the clamps did to him.

"Such a good boy, Dean," John said. "Daddy's so proud of you."

Dean couldn't help but beam internally, even in his current position. He lived to hear those words.

"You liked it, didn't you?" John asked him. "Being shared, milked by strangers....having Daddy fuck your ass?"

He had. He'd enjoyed every single minute of it. Dean knew John well enough to know that the question was not rhetorical.

He was ashamed of his answer but gave it truthfully, chest and neck flushing with sudden color, voice raspy. "Y...yes."

"We're gonna have you for lunch now, sweetheart," John informed him. "Daddy's gonna nipple-fuck you and our guest is going to suck your udder dry."

Dean's heart rate increased, legs unconsciously parting, nips seeking talented, blunt fingertips as he arched submissively. Ungh, fuck yeah.

"Tell me how much you want it, baby," John continued. "Daddy wants to hear it."

He was already saying it with his body. It was somehow easier than saying it with words...yet no less true.

"Please, daddy," he whispered, "play with me...use me." Love me…

Dean could see himself from above as he gave himself over to the hungry men at the table. His fat udder swallowed, suckled eagerly as the manger held his knees wide. His father fondling and rubbing lewdly at his tits like they were small, needy pussies.

He saw himself writhe and beg for more, heard a small cowbell in the distance as his body thrashed restless against the table as he came with a long and helpless, “Mooooooooooooooooooooooooo.”

-wWw-

….oooooooo

Dean woke with a gasp, momentarily confused by his surroundings. He looked over to the left to find Sam sleeping on the bed next to him.

"Everything okay?" John asked from the table at the end of the two twin beds.

It took Dean a minute to remember. Elkins. Vampires. John showing up out of the blue after months of searching for him.

"Yeah," Dean assured. They both ignored the slight breathless tremble in his response. "Fine."

John studied him for a moment.

"Get some more sleep if you can," he said.

Dean turned on his side, echoes of his dream flushing him with shame, even as his cock remained stiff in his pants. He could still feel his father’s phantom touch on his nubs…….

End.