Work Text:
Everything they had found about this hunt indicated that it would be ridiculously easy. Hike in, torch the giant slug-worm-sponge-thing that was living out in the middle of the swamp, and get back to the motel in time to shower and hit the bars for the night. Or stay in the room and have amazing sex while they’re still riding the post-hunt high. Either way, this hunt was supposed to be easier than even the simplest of salt-and-burns, and without the aches and pains that would come from digging up graves.
What neither Sam nor Dean had planned on, though, was just how hard it would be to navigate the swamp. The place is old, one of the rare spots where most humans still avoid, the ground covered in snarled tangles of vines and roots. So really, it’s not exactly Dean’s fault that he stumbles over something partially hidden by dying plants and fallen leaves, just enough to go down, left knee hitting the ground hard as his right inexplicably connects with… nothing.
And Dean loses his balance, sliding to the right and breaking through the web of vines that had covered and hidden the top of the ravine. He hears Sam’s worried shout from above as he tries to brace for the impact, but when he finally hits the ground his breath is still knocked out of him and his vision swims for a moment.
Luckily he doesn’t actually black out and he quickly calls up, “I’m fine, Sammy!”
He can’t really see Sam when he looks up, just a vague dark silhouette leaning over the hole in the network of vines, but he can hear his brother ask, “Can you climb back up at all?”
Dean’s eyes are starting to adjust to the dimmer light and he scans the sheer side of the ravine dubiously. “Maybe, but it’d take friggen’ forever,” he yells. “You keep going up there, I’ll just check out things down here and find some other place to climb out.”
“Sure that’s a good idea?”
“You have any other plans?” Dean asks. “Ain’t like you could pull me up with a vine or something. We’ll meet up back at the car in three hours to regroup, talk about what we found.”
“Yeah, alright, if you’re sure.” Dean can hear the hesitation in Sam’s voice, knows that his brother isn’t exactly thrilled with the plan, but honestly Dean really doesn’t want to fall a second time while trying to scale the side of the ravine so this is the only other alternative.
The further Dean ventures along the ravine the darker it becomes, the mat of tangled vines overhead blocking out more and more of the sunlight, and Dean’s steps are cautious and slow as he carefully scans for both a way out and any sign of the creature they’re hunting. It’s eerily quiet down in the ravine, just the sound of his own footsteps echoing in the still silence, and it puts Dean on edge.
Then something slithers across the ground in front of Dean and he jumps back, assuming it’s a snake until it lashes out, coiling around his ankle and yanking him down to the ground where it’s quickly joined by several others that wrap around his legs and arms, immobilizing him even as they begin to drag him further down the ravine. “Son of a bitch!” he curses, struggles against the things that he’s quickly realizing are fucking tentacles and Jesus Chris, this was not supposed to be a part of this hunt.
The tentacles just tighten around him and continue to pull him along, eventually yanking him sharply to the left and down into a small series of tunnels that look like they were carved into earth centuries ago, and Dean freezes for a moment when he finally sees the creature that the tentacles belong to. It’s massive, easily ten feet across, with tentacles of all sizes spilling out across the tunnel. More tentacles reach for him, sliding along his body, finding the seams in his shirts and tearing them apart.
That jerks Dean back to reality and he starts to struggle again, knowing where this is going and not wanting any part of it. “Fucking- fuck! No!” he yells as the tentacles slide up his pant leg, shuddering at the feeling of cool slime against his bare skin.
But a new tentacle quickly takes advantage of his shout to force its way into his mouth until it’s almost hitting the back of his throat, oozing even more of the creature’s slime until Dean is forced to choke or swallow. Dean swallows quickly, the tentacle practically fucking his mouth as he continues to ooze the thick slime that Dean can’t swallow fast enough to stop it trickling down his chin.
Dean’s head is spinning, whether from shock or his earlier fall he doesn’t know, but it takes him several moments to realize that the tentacles around his legs have finally gotten his jeans, boots, and underwear off. He kicks out, but his movements are sluggish and it’s no problem for the creature to simply wrap its tentacles tighter around his ankles and thighs, holding him in place with his legs spread wide.
Three tentacles are sliding over his body now, one moving across his chest to rub against his nipples, the other two sliding up his legs and teasing at his cock and balls. Dean whimpers pathetically, no longer trying to struggle as the tentacles stroke his cock lightly, getting him almost impossibly hard before pulling away. Dean’s hips hump the air uselessly as a thinner tentacle wraps around him as a make-shift cock ring, stopping him from coming.
The other tentacle that had been teasing his cock dips lower to massage Dean’s perineum until the hunter is squirming and whining around the appendage that’s still fucking his mouth. It feels like every nerve in Dean’s body has been lit up, even as his panic over the situation at hand somehow starts to fade away. When the tentacle slips further back to rub against his hole, not dipping in, not yet, Dean grinds down against it without thinking, just desperate for more friction, more anything.
Slowly the tentacle starts working its way in, the disgusting slime the only thing easing its way. Dean’s whines turn into cries of pain as it pushes in deep and he tries to squirm away, only to have the tentacles holding him in place seize up and prevent any movement. The tentacle that had been caressing his chest shifts so the thicker part of it is still rubbing against his now over-sensitized nipples but the end is wrapped around his throat, a clear warning to stop struggling.
Dean goes limp, lets the creature do what it wants, and it takes advantage of that. The tentacle starts fucking him ruthlessly, pounding into his ass and oozing so much slime that some starts to trickle down his thighs. Another tentacle returns to his cock and balls, lazily stroking and coating them with the same slime and Dean moans, so fucking close to coming but the creature isn’t letting him reach that point.
The tentacle in his ass shifts, now hitting his prostate on every thrust and Dean’s eyes roll back as he rocks down, fucking himself on it as he chases his orgasm. The tentacle wrapped around his neck tightens suddenly and Dean’s moaning gets choked off as his breath is cut off. When it becomes clear that the tentacle isn’t loosening up he starts struggling desperately, his overwhelming need to breathe making his arousal that much sharper and he’s not sure whether he’s chasing oxygen or orgasm anymore.
His vision starts to go grey at the edges even as the tentacles continue to fuck into him, teasing and tormenting him but always keeping him on the edge until finally the tentacle wrapped around the base of his cock releases and the rest of them just squeeze, pushing every single one of his buttons at once and coating his body with slime inside and out. Dean comes violently, tensing up against his bonds and practically screaming around the tentacle still in his mouth.
And almost immediately his eyes roll back, body going limp once more as he passes out even as his cock continues to spurt out the last of his come.
Dean wakes slowly, unsure of how much time has passed. Something slick is rubbing against his face and Dean flicks his tongue out, catching a taste of the familiar slime from before. That gets him awake all the way and he tries to jerk back but though he’s not restrained anymore his movements are sluggish and his body doesn’t seem to want to respond to him.
The tentacle that had been rubbing against his lips slips in and he doesn’t resist. He swallows the slime down without hesitation, almost groaning with relief as it immediately soothes the ache in his jaw and throat from the earlier abuse. It doesn’t even taste half bad, not like he remembered it tasting, and he finds himself sucking on the tentacle harder, desperate for a taste of more.
He can feel himself start to harden but another tentacle quickly wraps around the base of his cock to prevent that. Dean whimpers and glances down, trying to see what the creature is doing. A smaller, thinner tentacle is teasing at the head of his cock, dipping slightly into the slit, and Dean tenses when it starts to force its way down into his cock. He cries out, tries to struggle away but his legs are quickly held in place and he can’t do anything but stay there and take it.
It’s easily the weirdest fucking thing that’s happened to him, and his sex life with Sam isn’t exactly vanilla. He can feel the creature’s slime coating the inside of his cock, can feel the tentacle twisting and twitching inside him, and he squirms against the strange sensation. Then the other tentacles return to play, one teasing his over-sensitized nipples and another to play with the rim of his still-open hole, and both coating his body with their ever-present slime.
Dean can’t fully harden around the tentacle in his cock but that doesn’t stop his arousal from growing as the other tentacles continue to tease him, one slipping inside him to rub mercilessly against his prostate. He loses track of time, writhing against the tentacles that refuse to leave him alone, desperate for moremoremore. There’s a small part of his mind that’s screaming at him to get away, to find something to kill this son of a bitch with, but the tentacle in his mouth pulses out another load of slime and the thought slips from his mind as he swallows it down.
It feels like hours before the tentacles retreat again and Dean is almost completely out of it from his desire to come. He winces as the tentacle in his cock slowly slides out, but immediately reaches down with a shaking hand to quickly stroke his cock. He cries out at the touch, his cock so sensitive that even his own movements are borderline-painful, but no matter how hard or fast he jerks his cock he can’t push past that plateau.
He sobs, finally letting go of his cock and staring down at it in misery. Something isn’t right here, something more than being assaulted by a tentacle monster, and Dean realizes that he has to get the fuck out of there now. But as soon as he stands on shaky legs tentacles wrap around him again, dragging him back down to the ground and covering his ass, cock, and nipples, as another immediately fills his mouth once more.
Dean’s mind is a haze, lost in wave after wave of painful arousal. Tears stream down his face even as his body continues to respond to the creature’s actions, rocking back against the tentacle that’s fucking into him and sucking down the one in his mouth. He wants to think that Sam will find him, will save him; as more time passes he forgets Sam, forgets rescue. His world becomes the tentacles, the ever-present slime, and he doesn’t know why he ever struggled against this.
He’s constantly rock-hard, his cock and balls so painfully sensitized that the tentacles have even stopped teasing them, except for the thin one that keeps acting as a makeshift sound. His nipples are tender and sore, and through his daze he could swear that they’re starting to look swollen, almost more like breasts then pecs. His mouth and ass are almost always filled, continuing to fuel his never-ending arousal, and he can barely remember ever tasting anything that wasn’t the slime.
And then his stomach starts to swell, just slightly at first but then it becomes more and more pronounced, and Dean can feel things moving inside him. Somehow the creature’s gotten him fucking pregnant and that shouldn’t turn him on even more but somehow it does. Dean’s retained just enough of his mind to recognize that this is fucked up, that the creature’s messed with both his body and his head, but he doesn’t care. Not when the tentacles are still making him feel so fucking good, knocking him and using him and he can’t get enough of it.
He doesn’t know how exactly the birth happens; the tentacles choke him out again, and when he comes to there are three mini tentacle monsters crowding around him. The parent-creature pulls his arms back until his chest is perpendicular to the ground and two of the babies immediately swarm up, latched onto his tender nipples and began suckling. Dean cries out at the sensation, instinctively jerking against the tentacles holding him in place, but he calms down when a new tentacle slips between his lips, already oozing the familiar slime.
But even the mind-numbing properties of the slime isn’t enough to stop him from flinching when the third baby creature crawls down to his cock, suckling at the head. One of the parent’s tentacles slips into Dean’s always-open ass, gently massaging against his prostate. He whines and squirms at the sensation as come begins to trickle out of his cock and the baby starts to feed, it’s smaller tentacles sliding against his length as its mouthparts suck at the head.
Dean rocks down against the tentacle in his ass, trying to get it to actually start fucking him, but it just keeps firmly massaging his prostate. But it’s the babies suckling at his over-sensitized nipples and cock that drive him the craziest, like nothing else he’s ever felt before, so painful that it’s almost circled back into pleasure. His whole world has narrowed down to this pleasure-pain-pleasure feedback loop, leaving Dean too exhausted and strung out to even cry anymore.
A sudden screech from the parent monster breaks through the haze in Dean’s mind, startles him just enough to get his focus off the slide of tentacles against his skin for the first time in what feels like forever and he looks up at the figure standing in the entrance to the tunnel. Dean knows that body, knows that voice, but then the tentacles encircling him squeeze, slime oozing out to coat his skin, and his mind goes blank again.
There’s screaming from the monster, tentacles lashing past Dean, but he can’t focus on anything but the babies suckling at him, the cool slime oozing down his thighs. Until it’s ripped away and it’s suddenly hands, not tentacles, against his skin and that’s not the monster screaming now, it’s Dean…
XXXXX
It takes Sam far longer than it should to realize that something is seriously wrong with Dean. He’s been running on fear and adrenaline for the past week, desperately searching that fucking ravine for any sign of his brother, and it’s sheer luck that he stumbles on the entrance to the tunnels at all. He sees what’s happening to Dean but it only fuels his anger, his desperation, and it isn’t until he’s dragged his brother out of there and driven back to the motel that he starts to see just how fucked up Dean has become.
He sets Dean down on one of the beds, goes into the bathroom to grab a washcloth to wipe some of the dirt and slime away, and returns to find Dean with three fingers buried in his ass, desperately fucking himself on them and jerking his cock, but though he looks like he’s seconds away from coming he never crosses that point.
“Hey, Dean, it’s okay,” Sam says, rushing forward and trying to pry Dean’s hands away. He succeeds but the small whimper from his brother breaks his heart and he pulls him close, kissing the top of his head gently. “We’ll figure this out, it’s okay.”
It takes him a minute to realize that Dean’s whimpers contain actual words. “Please, please, need it, fuck, pleasepleaseplease.”
He’s squirming, trying to reach back to his slick and open hole, and this time Sam lets him, decides it’s easier to give in so he can clean Dean off then fight his brother every step of the way. Normally Sam would be getting off hard to the sight of Dean fucking himself on his own fingers, but instead he has to fight to keep from throwing up as he begins to clean off Dean’s body and sees exactly the damage that was done.
There are bruises around Dean’s throat, wrists, and ankles, and his mouth and lips are visibly swollen and abused. Sam can barely look at Dean’s chest, the memory of the baby monsters suckling at the new breasts almost enough to make him lose it. Dean’s cock is still hard and an angry red, but when Sam cautiously rolls his balls in his hand they don’t feel as full as he expected them to be. He remembers seeing a the baby monsters scuttling away, three of them, not two, the pieces falling into horrifying place as he realizes what must have happened.
Sam stumbles away, just barely makes it to the bathroom before his stomach rebels and he loses what little was in his stomach. Sam knows from his research that the slime of these creatures is used in its breeding process and Dean was covered in the stuff. Enough to get him desperate for the creature’s touch in him and on him, enough to change his body so he could nurse the babies, two from his new breasts and one from his cock, no doubt relying on prostate stimulation to produce the come since Dean still wasn’t able to come.
Sam feels bile rise in his throat again, closes his eyes and tries to keep his nausea at bay as he admits that the monster probably bred Dean, changed his body so much that he was able to knock him up then use him as a milking machine for the offspring.
He walks back out of the bathroom, stops and stares at Dean still desperately fucking himself on his fingers even though it’s not doing him any good, and Sam feels like crying. He doesn’t know if this is reversible, if he’s ever going to get back the brother he once had, but like hell is going to let Dean suffer any more than he needs to.
It takes Sam just under an hour to get what he needs, thankful that they have a new credit card and that the town has a 24/7 sex store on the edge of the highway. Dean’s a bit more lucid when he returns, probably the effects of the slime starting to wear off, but his neediness doesn’t seem to have decreased one bit. “Please, Sam, please, fucking hurts, need it, please,” he begs, pawing at Sam’s fly and fumbling with the zipper on his jeans.
“Shh, I got you, Dean,” Sam says, pulling Dean’s hands away and guiding him onto his hands and knees.
He leaves for just a brief moment, grabs a clean washcloth, and returns to where Dean is kneeling on the bed. Sam starts off by gently cleaning around Dean’s hole, even dipping in briefly to try to remove as much of the slime as possible. Dean whines, tries to buck back into the touch, but Sam holds him firmly in place as he grabs the new plug he bought and a bottle of lube.
Sam eases the plug in gently. It’s larger than anything Dean had taken before, but he estimated it to be about the same size of one of the creature’s tentacles. As he thought, it slides in with little resistance and Dean already seems at ease the moment it’s fully inserted. But Sam’s plans don’t stop there and he moves Dean onto his back, grabs a pair of handcuffs from his bag and secures them around Dean’s wrists and the headboard of the bed.
With every new addition Dean seems to become more and more at ease, the need still obvious in his eyes but it’s calmed down a bit and been replaced with the familiar trust that Sam is used to seeing there. “How are you doing, Dean?” he asks quietly.
“More, Sam, please,” Dean begs. “My mouth- please, fuck…”
Sam’s stomach twists. He shouldn’t be getting off on this, not when Dean’s so fucked up and still not quite in his right mind, but he can’t deny that seeing Dean like this, tied up and plugged and so fucking desperate, does something to him. And besides, Dean’s the one who asked for it first…
Sam tugs down his jeans and underwear just enough to get rapidly hardening cock free, gives it a few short strokes before guiding it towards Dean’s open mouth. Dean moans around it, tongues under the head and sucks hard. Sam groans, thrusts it in farther before he can stop himself, but Dean just opens his mouth wider, takes him deeper, eyes blown wide with lust and need.
And that’s just about it. Sam holds Dean’s head in place, fucks his mouth relentlessly, can’t help but love the needy moans from his brother, and it isn’t long before he’s coming hard down Dean’s throat. Dean whines as he pulls out, eyes Sam’s slowly softening cock like he wants to keep sucking on it. But Sam has work to do if he wants to find out a way to reverse this, and instead he carefully locks the cock gag in place and walks over to the table, starts up his laptop to begin his research, leaves Dean tied down on the bed.
It isn’t long before Dean starts squirming, his whimpers muffled by the gag though his pleading eyes are staring straight through Sam. Sam flicks a button on the remote he left on the table before, grins as jumps when the vibrator in the plug starts up, and goes back to his research. Everything he’s finding says that it’s just a matter of the effects fading, that Dean’s body and mind will be back to normal within a week.
Nothing to do but wait then. Sam turns in his chair, watches Dean writhe on the bed, pull against his restraints. Sam knows the plug is vibrating directly against his prostate, massaging that bundle of nerves, and Dean moans around the gag as come starts to trickle out of his cock, not quite an orgasm but it’s the only relief Sam’s able to give his brother right now.
Well… maybe not the only relief…
Sam moves back over to the bed, straddles Dean and gently rolls one nipple between his fingers. Dean keens, tries to arch into Sam’s touch as he leans down to lap at the milk leaking from his brother’s swollen nipple, keeping his touch light and teasing. After all, he still has an entire week to play with Dean like this…