Title: Captive (3/?)
Author: snfan75
Rating: NC-17+
Pairing: girl!Dean/omc; eventual girl!Dean/Sam
Others: girl!Dean/others (f/f; m/f)
Other characters: John, Bobby, Caleb, Missouri, Pastor Jim, OMC's
Spoilers: AU Season 2; in this verse, John did not die and Yellow Eyes was defeated; there are still Demons about, but less since Azazel's demise
In this story, Dean is 25 and Sam is 23.
Warning: SLAVE!FIC; non-con, abuse; MAJOR Dean whumpage; strong language; specific warnings at start of each chapter; VERY dark fic. You have been warned.
Disclaimers: I do not own Supernatural, Kripke, or the JJ's (unfortunately)

Note: Feedback is greatly appreciated.

Author Note: In my head, my girl!dean is a cross between actresses Emilie de Ravin and Romola Garai

My OMC's look like actors in Hollywood. I'm just providing my inspirations.
Character: Damien (actor Eric Mabius)

Summary: Dean Winchester was cursed on a routine hunt and changed into a woman 8 months ago. The Winchesters have attempted to find a reversal to no avail. Dean has accepted her fate and they have now returned to what they do best: hunting. Unfortunately, her trouble is just beginning. Sometimes, the Supernatural is not the only evil in this world.

Warning: torture, non-con begins in this chapter in this chapter (m/f; f/f)

Chapter 3

Dean found herself in a large whirlpool tub being bathed by the Myrna woman and a petite Hispanic woman named Marisol. They washed her hair with a fruity shampoo, the smell of which made Dean nauseous. Dean knew she could overpower the two women, but Bruno stood at the door monitoring the bath. Myrna took a soft towel and gently washed Dean's face and arms. She moved lower to her abdomen and legs. Finally, Dean felt her washing her privates and thought she felt a finger brush her vagina.

“Hey! Watch it, bitch!” Dean yelled at the woman.

“My mistake.” Myrna answered as she continued. They stood Dean and rubbed her down with a scented oil and then toweled her off. When they were done, she spoke again. “Come this way.”

Dean was lead to another room that appeared to look like a woman's salon. They laid her down on a table and Myrna gestured for Bruno. Dean felt her arms pulled to her side and they were secured into restraints.

“What are you doing?!” Dean looked up at the man who did not acknowledge her presence and continued working. He then moved lower and Dean's legs were pulled apart and her ankles were secured as well. “Stop! What are you doing?” Dean tried to get up, but to no avail.

“Your Master does not like any body hair, so we will wax you.” Myrna said as she made preparations.

“I don't want that! Do you hear me?” Dean yelled. “Don't touch me!”

“You don't have a choice.” Myrna responded as she and Marisol readied their materials. “Master's orders.” They worked swiftly, starting at the armpits, arms, and then the legs. A small table between Dean's spread legs was removed to give Myrna better access to Dean's private area. At this point, Dean was sweating from the pain of the waxing and she started struggling when she realized where Myrna was headed next.

“Keep still.” Myrna warned as she set to work. After a few minutes, she turned to the handler. “Bruno, I need you to lift her legs up so I can finish the back. And then, I can get her ass.”

Bruno did as he was told. Dean shook her head in disbelief at what was happening. This all just had to be a nightmare.

“Ow! You stupid, bitch!” Dean said as she continued.

“Okay, you may place them back in restraints.” Myrna added as she stood. She turned to her colleague. “Marisol, you may go.”

“Yes, Ma'am.” The young woman placed her supplies on the table and left. The door behind her clicked shut.

Myrna ran her hands down Dean's body to check the smoothness. “Your Master will be quite pleased. You're as smooth as a newborn babe.”

Dean felt very exposed as she lay spread eagle in front of two strangers. Myrna stroked her cheek. “Don't touch me.” She warned.

“You're very beautiful. Your Master will have a good time with you.” She spoke quietly as she looked at Dean.

“What? Are you jealous or something.?” Dean said with a smirk.

Myrna chuckled darkly. “Now, child. That attitude of yours is going to cause you a lot of trouble here. My advice to you: give in. Don't fight the inevitable.” She said as she gently ran her hand down Dean's leg and suddenly her finger caressed Dean's outer folds.

“Stop it.” Dean said as she continued to touch her intimately.

“Your Master never minds when I take a little taste; provided I don't do anything else.” She said as she pulled a chair up between Dean's legs. Dean felt her spreading her lips and gasped when she felt Myrna begin to lick her.

“Stop. Oh my God...don't do this!” Dean was frantic as she realized what was happening.

“Such a pretty little pussy you have, child.” Myrna said as she started sucking on Dean's clit. Myrna moaned as she devoured Dean.

Dean was powerless as she fought to break her bonds while this woman touched her. “No! Stop! Stop!” Dean yelled as she felt her body begin to betray her. The sensations coursing through her body were foreign to her and the realization of why this was happening was adding to the humiliation of it all. “Stop!” She suddenly felt Bruno's hand over her mouth as she tried to scream again. All Dean could do was writhe as Myrna continued to eat her out. Sweat poured from her brow as a tear escaped her eye as she was lost in the feeling. She began panting in short breaths as she felt something building within her. She cried out as her orgasm ripped through her. She had never felt anything like that. Not even as a man. Bruno removed his hand as Dean breathed heavily and a few more tears left her eyes.

Myrna stood from the chair and grabbed a towel and wiped Dean's juices from her mouth. “Tastes like honey, child.” She said as she licked her lips.

There was a knock on the door and suddenly Damien walked in.

“How's the waxing, Myrna?”

“Went well, Mr. Stevens. Not a hair left on her.” She smiled innocently.

Damien glanced over at Dean and noticed the flushed skin and the hard breathing. He looked at his maid with anger in his eyes. “What happened here? She looks like she just came.” He paused. “Myrna?”

“Well, Mr. Stevens. The girl really got off while I was waxing her. She was moaning and seemed to really enjoy it. I'm actually surprised she doesn't have piercings or tattoos. Especially when I got to her privates, she was writhing and making noises and asking for more. And then, she came. Probably gets off on pain.” She grinned.

“That's not true!” Dean exclaimed. “She's a fucking liar!”

Damien looked down at Dean. “I wouldn't lie to me so soon after your arrival. Myrna has worked with me for ten years and has never given me a reason to doubt her. So, I suggest you keep your mouth shut, you little slut; now is the perfect time to discuss the rules and your punishment.” He stood tall and turned to his maid. “Put her dress back on. Bruno. Bring her to the chamber.”

“Yes, Sir.”

*

Bruno led Dean down a long corridor. Dean tried her best to take in her surroundings. They were obviously in a large mansion, it was decorated in a rich, baroque style. The house screamed money and opulence.

They entered through a giant set of doors into a large, sparsely decorated room. Dean's heart sped up as she surveyed the contents of the room. There were many instruments hanging on a wall: differing sizes of chains, whips, cat o nine tails, and restraints. There were long metal tables, chairs, and varying sizes of massage type tables set up across the room. Three mahogany chest of drawers were against the back wall and there were some harnesses hanging from the ceiling. Damien strode gracefully across the chilly room and sat down in a leather wingback chair. As he crossed his legs, he gestured at Bruno. The large man pulled at Dean's chain as he started walking, almost causing Dean to stumble to the ground. He stopped in front of his boss and secured the chain to a hook secured to the floor. Dean had to bend her knees slightly because of the tension to her neck.

Damien looked up at his slave and spoke calmly. “Rule the first. Unless you are being led somewhere and walking, when you are in your Master's presence, you will be on your knees.”

Dean glared at him. “You've got to be kidding me.” She said defiantly.

Damien smiled in the cold manner Dean was already starting to detest. He nodded at Bruno and suddenly Dean heard a swoosh and a sharp pain at the back of her legs, causing her to fall to her knees. Her eyes watered at the incredible stinging she now experienced.

/>“Son of a bitch!” She yelled as she turned her head slightly to see Bruno holding a hollow cane.

“You are to be on your knees unless otherwise stated, slave.” He continued.

“My. Name. Is. Dean.” She forced out, trying to fight the pain in her legs.

“You have no name here. You are whatever I choose to call you.” His eyes narrowed. “You are my whore, my slut, my slave, my property. Your body, mind, and soul belong to me now. What you are or were is of no consequence to me.” He paused. “Do you understand?”

“No.” She answered quietly. “My name is Dean.” She raised her head to look at him. “I'm not yours. I'll never be yours. You'll have to kill me first.”

“A difficult one, indeed.” Damien said to Bruno, who only nodded his head in agreement. Damien stood and went over to his slave. He raised his hand and suddenly Dean's head snapped forcefully to the side as he backhanded her. She gasped in surprise as she felt blood trickle down her mouth. For a moment she swayed, feeling dizzy as she tried to keep herself upright.

Damien placed his arms behind his back and walked slowly as he continued. “You are to address me as Master. You do not speak unless spoken to. You will eat and drink if I think you deserve it. If I tell you to do something, you will do it. Without hesitation.

“My brother will find me.” Dean answered.

Damien stopped pacing for a moment as he leaned into her face. “No. He won't. The only way you will leave here is if I decide to sell you or you leave in a body bag. Those are your only options.” He paused. “Now.” Damien said with an eerie sense of enthusiasm. “For your punishment.”

“What did I do?” Dean asked. Instead if an immediate answer, she earned another slap to the face.

“Quite a slow learner, you are. I guess people are correct when they say that blonds really are dumb. You do not speak unless spoken to. Understand?” He walked over to a massage table. “Bring her.” He motioned to Bruno.

Bruno unhooked the chain from Dean and brought her to the table. He pushed Dean over on her front until half her body leaned over the table. This left her backside exposed. He secured her arms to the side of the table as Dean attempted to fight him. He then placed cuffs around her ankles that were built into the table as well.

Dean, from this position could not see what was going on behind her. “Let me go!” The restraints were tight as she tried to move.

Damien walked over to a chest and opened it. He procured a paddle with holes in it. He returned to Dean and slowly raised the dress. He gently stroked her naked backside. “Such a pity to mark such a beautiful area, but you must be punished. First of all, you lied about Myrna and more importantly, you came without permission.” He continued to caress Dean. “Unless by my hand, you do not have permission to come. Ever.”

“You're fucking crazy, you goddamn pervert!” Dean yelled as she tried to distract him.

“You are not following the rules, pet. YOU DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS SPOKEN TO!” He said with anger evident in his voice. He raised his arm and swung the paddle against her ass.

“Ahhhhhh!!!” Dean screamed as the first hit came. “Stop!!!!” She said as he continued to rain hit after hit onto her. The pain was unbearable. Tears leaked from her eyes; she could only lay there, powerless against what was happening.

Suddenly, it ceased. Dean's head lay to the side, sweat pouring from her brow. She distantly felt her being unhooked from the table. She was placed upright and the chain attached to her collar again.

“Take her to her quarters.” Damien ordered Bruno as he left the room.

*

Dean again found herself being led through the house. After some time, they stopped in front of a door. When the handler opened it, he detached the chain from her collar and shoved her into a small room; it was the size of a child's bedroom. As she heard the door being locked multiple times behind her, Dean surveyed the space. There was a small window, set extremely high. There was no way to reach it. A small cot lay against a side wall, with a thin blanket covering it. A door in the back of the room led to a small toilet and a shower. On a clothes rack against the other wall, hung identical copies of the white dress she currently wore.

Dean walked with shaky legs, trying to fight against the pain after her paddling and she lay down on the cot. She grimaced and turned to her side to avoid placing pressure on her backside. She wrapped her thin arms around herself as she stared at the dull walls in front of her. Tears rolled from her eyes, as she tried to fight the emotions coursing through her. She could finally let go, now that she wasn't in front of Them. “This isn't happening...this isn't real...” She whispered to herself as her lips trembled. “S-Sammy...h-help me...”

TBC...