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You close your eyes in frustration, focusing all your energy on denying what your body so desperately wanted: to sink into the release of the orgasm that was building. But you couldn’t. You knew you didn’t have permission. Dean Winchester was really testing you tonight. His fingers sliding between your legs, feeling how soaked you were. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was smirking at what a hapless mess you were right now.
He moves his fingers to your clit, circling the sensitive area, barely brushing it. He’d been doing this for over half an hour, and you were on edge. Even the lightest touch was enough to make your whole body shiver. His mouth finds your nipple, teeth grazing and gently biting you. You feel a jolt somewhere in your midsection.
“Please… Dean…” You couldn’t help but plead with him now.
He really was smiling now. “Not quite yet, sweetheart.” He tells you, continuing to deny you. Instead, he removes his hands from your clit. You begin to moan in protest, only to be quickly replaced by longing as he inserts two fingers deep inside you.
You could feel the slightly rough and calloused hands working their magic inside you. You knew you had to hold on. There would be consequences if you didn’t. But then Dean touches that spot deep inside you. The one he knew how to find better than any other man.
Asshole. You think to yourself. He knew was he was doing. He touches you there, ever so lightly, it shouldn’t be enough to end you over the edge but after the way he has been toying with you, you can’t stop yourself. You feel your body shudder as waves of pleasure overcome you. To his credit, Dean doesn’t ruin this for you. Instead, he presses harder into you, just as you liked it. His mouth focusing its attention to your swollen clit. The combination is enough to make you see stars.
As you come down from the high of release, a bit of fear takes its place. He hadn’t given you permission.
You finally open your eyes as you regain your senses. Dean has pulled out from you and is sitting next to you. His green eyes lock into yours and you feel yourself blushing under his accusing gaze. “Did I say you could come?”
“N-no.” You stutter, faltering under his stare. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s not going to cut it. You know only I decide when and where you come.”
“Yes. I know. I’m sorry.” You tell him, hoping your regret would be enough to garner some sympathy.
“Get into position.” He tells you, his tone telling you your apology wasn’t succeeding.
You crawl off the bed, legs still shaking from your orgasm, and bend over the bed, face firmly in the mattress, ass in the air. You were very familiar with this position. One way or another, you found yourself like this regularly. Dean made sure of that. Even tonight, he had known there was no way you could have stopped yourself once he was fingering your soaking pussy, but it wouldn’t mean he would go easy on you.
He chuckles appreciatively seeing you in such a vulnerable position, making you blush. You knew he was going to spank you; you just hoped it would be his hand and not something worse. You hear his unbuckle his belt and feel another twinge of fear. Not the belt you think.
As if he read your mind, Dean leans over to whisper in your ear, the rough texture if his jeans pressing into your sensitive and exposed flesh. Something about knowing he was fully dressed while you were naked and exposed made the situation all the more humiliating for you. “Are you nervous?” He asks. You nod, unable to find your voice. “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon. Twenty strokes. I want you to count them for me. Ok, sweetheart?” You let out a squeal of surprise but agree. He had never done that many with his belt before. A wave of anticipation and fear washes over you, making your pussy throb with pleasure.
You hear the belt before you feel it. But then it comes, that sharp sting across your ass. “O-one.” You gasp. Your stomach is in knots as you wait for the next blow. You could feel Dean pacing behind you, making you wait. Just when the memory of the first hit dissipates, you feel a second sting across your ass.
“Two.” You just about manage to say after a few seconds. Luckily it seemed Dean wasn’t going to punish you further for counting slowly. There were times he would make you repeat a number or even start all over if you weren’t quick enough.
“Three.” You scream as you feel yet another sharp hit across your butt. You automatically bend your knees, hoping to angle your ass out of reach. You feel Dean’s hand push you back up, and you quickly get back into position, as Dean resumes punishing you.
By the time you count out twenty, you’re a mess. Tears streak your cheeks as you sob quietly into the sheets. Your body goes limp with pain and exhaustion, and you can already tell your ass was an angry red and bruised. And still, you found the pressure growing between your legs. You needed Dean now, more than ever.
Dean lets gently inspects his work on your ass, then lets you recover for a minute, taking the opportunity to strip out of his clothes. Once all his clothes are off, he gets into bed, pulling you up along with him. He holds you in his arms, as you continue to cry. He knew he had pushed you tonight and now he was going to make up for it.
He kisses your cheeks, tasting the tears on your face, his hands stroking your hair, calming you down. Once you stop crying, his lips find yours. At the same time, his hand is once again between your legs. This time he isn’t teasing you. He can feel how hot and wet you already were, but he wanted to be sure you were ready for him. Once he is satisfied, he spreads your legs and climbs over you, in between. You could feel how hard he was as he presses into you. “Ready?” He asks, voice raspy.
You nod at him, unable to speak. You feel him fill you up, your whole body on fire once again. He fills you up completely then pauses for a brief second, making you feel so complete, before he starts to fuck you properly. You open your legs wider, making more room for him, your hands at his chest, pulling him into you but also pushing him away when he bottoms out. You’re breathing heavy before Dean is, but it doesn’t take him long. You hear him grunt and you knew he was close. His movements quicken, making you moan in pleasure.
When he starts to slow down, you knew he was close. As his strokes become more deliberate, you let your own pleasure build. You could tell from the sounds he was making he was mere seconds away from release, and so were you. You feel your body shake under his once more, as his cum fills you. Dean is nearly collapsed on you, the stubble on his cheek grazing yours, his breath warm and heavy on your neck.
You feel him soften before he pulls out from inside you and rolls off, a satisfied grin on your face. “That was incredible.” He tells you.
“Fuck. It really was.” You agree, feeling spent in the best way.
You lay together for a bit, catching your breath and letting the high wear off. When it does, Dean grabs a towel and cleans starts cleaning you up, just enough to make it to the shower. Under the warm water, you clean each other. Dean being extra gentle with your ass, which was still red and sore.
As you lay in his arms that night, you think to how far the two of you had come from the first time you had fucked. While it was some of the best sex you had ever had, you knew there was something missing. You needed a little more to really feel good. You needed a dominant man.
Dean was not a natural dom, that much was obvious, so you didn’t voice your desires then. It wasn’t until one fateful night, when Dean had playfully slapped your ass as he fucked you from behind that you had stopped hiding your needs. “Harder.” You had found yourself saying, before you could stop yourself. Dean had obliged in the moment, but then had sat you down for one of the most awkward conversations you had ever experienced. Not that Dean was awkward. But you had found it incredibly difficult to voice that you wanted to be handled more roughly. To be dominated and toyed with. It had been hard for you to look Dean in the eyes as you told him this, but his gaze would not leave your face.
“Ok.” Was all he had said. Simple and yet effective. It made you look up at him. You could tell he was serious. “If that’s what you like, I’m willing to do that for you.” Dean had spent the next several days learning everything he could about BDSM and had sat you down to discuss your limits, safeword, and fantasies. This time you had felt a lot more comfortable. You knew you could trust him to take your needs seriously. And so, you had made a dom out of Dean. Even though he wasn’t inclined to be one naturally, he would do it to pleasure you, to fulfill your needs. And he did it so well.