Room 302 - A Soulless Sam Short Story (Rated 'M')

Room 302

This story is the result of a contest that was held in one of my private facebook groups, to write a 'smut' piece based on one of several pictures offered for inspiration. This was my entry. It is definitely rated R. You have been warned. The picture I used for inspiration is on the cover I made for it.

Room 302

Sam closed the door of the second-rate motel room very quietly, and headed for his brother's Impala. For a while he had wondered how working with his brother once again after a year apart might hamper his indulgence in his new-found pleasures. But he needn't have worried. Sam was adept at sneaking out, and so far he had never been caught. And now it was even easier to do, since he didn't have to sleep.

As he opened the door of the '67 Impala and slipped in behind the wheel, he spared a moment to wonder about that for the thousandth time. Why was he never able to sleep? Ever since his return from Hell, sleeping was alien to him. And what else was he supposed to do with the long nights when there were no hunts and everyone else was sleeping?

First, it had been while he was with his grandfather and cousins and their small band of hunters. He found himself going out at night just to escape the boredom of being the only one awake. But even with Dean it was easier to do than he had thought. The only problem was, since he was with Dean they didn't often get back to anywhere near the Campbell base. Still, so far it was working, and this was the third time he was able to play his new favorite game since he had paired back up with Dean.

All his life he had been under the control of someone else, telling him what to do. First it was his dad, and then Dean. Even Ruby. Oh he'd been stupid enough to think he was making his own decisions there but too late he'd found out otherwise. Then after he got back from Hell it was Samuel, and now Dean again. But this, this was all his.

As he drove to the apartment he had rented within walking distance of the Campbell base, his body was already beginning to feel the preliminary excitement of the night to come. He wondered again why he was keeping this from his brother. But something inside him he didn't quite understand told him that even Dean, his love 'em and leave 'em brother, Dean, who always seemed to be looking for sex, wanting and needing it so much more than Sam remembered himself wanting it before his trip to Hell, even Dean would not understand or approve of his new predilection. He didn't understand why, he just knew somehow he wouldn't.

So he wended his way through the late evening fog, thinking about what, or rather who, was waiting for him in his secret lair. He pulled into the parking space reserved for his apartment, and opened his duffel bag. Reaching deep into the bag he opened a tiny lock that secured the zipper from being easily opened. It would never withstand a determined snooper, but he and Dean had always respected each other's private space, so unless he gave Dean something to be suspicious about, his special little compartment should be secure enough.

He had called ahead announcing his imminent arrival, so he knew everything would be ready for him when he got there. Now it was time to get himself ready. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, replacing it with a soft, black leather vest. The neck chains came next. He loved these, loved the feel of them laying heavy against his bare chest. Finally the gloves, black leather again, covering his hands but not his fingers. No, not his fingers. His fingers needed to be able to feel.

When he was ready he locked the car and headed up to room 302. He hesitated a moment outside the door, taking in a deep breath in anticipation of the night to come. He reached out and turned the door knob that he knew would be unlocked for him, and stepped into the room.

Soft music was playing, countless candles lit the room, scented oils were emanating a sensual fragrance. He noticed all of this with the back of his brain, as his attention was focused on the three beautiful women kneeling before him in submissive welcome. "Welcome, my Lord and Master," they all said in unison.