tagCelebrities & Fan FictionSupernatural: Curses Foiled

Supernatural: Curses Foiled


ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Thanks to mah sistas at the EoP; this is for the recycling project. Enormous thanks to author Bob Vickery, whose work illustrated to me how to write first-person slash. This is for Peja's "first time; how do they get together" challenge.


I pour salt on our latest conquest's mortal remains then reach for the gasoline.

"Here it comes," I call out to Sam, my voice easily carrying in the still air to reach him at his lookout position. I light a twist of paper and toss it on, watching the flames leap into action. I keep my eyes fixed on the nasty creature's final demise while I listen for Sam's signal that it's working.

"There it goes," little brother shouts. That's our cue to hook back up and motor.

I turn in the semi-darkness and head toward the sound of his voice. The illumination from the flames gives me a slight edge over Mr. College; he curses as he trips over something in his path. I have just enough time to smirk ---


The high-pitched squeal is accompanied by a cold gust of wind and a rank, sickly-sweet odor. I dodge and roll as something takes a swipe at me. I pop quickly to my feet, facing where I expect the whatever-the-hell-it-is to be.

"Dean! Dean!" My brother's voice; getting closer. Still sounds like he is tripping over every root and gopher hole as he hurries in my direction, though.

I find myself facing a -- I don't know what. It is pale and looks vaguely female, and it seems to be getting sucked toward the bonfire. It also seems to be dissolving into goo or vapor or something.

"This is all your fault!" it shrills at me, pointing with a drippy, twig-like finger as it keeps sliding along the ground.

"Dean!" Definitely much closer. "What the hell?" That's my bro; always with the smart questions. snort Apparently he's close enough now to see this thing.

"You will never again find satisfaction!" it curses me. The rapidly dissolving apparition is dragged into the bonfire by the invisible force. "And you'll ne--"

The unnatural thing goes up in a *poof* of stinky smoke before it can complete its curse.

"What was that thing?" Sam asks, skidding to a halt beside me.

"I think it was that thing's girlfriend," I answer, jerking my chin toward the fire. "Come on; let's get out of here."


I'm gliding through the nightclub, headed toward the dance floor and checking out the honeys. Damn! There are some fine lookin' ladies in here tonight! Everywhere I look: short skirts showing off long, smooth, shapely legs, just aching to wrap themselves around me; tiny little tops with jiggling cleavage spilling out; pumping, gyrating, swaying, grinding feminine bodies shifting to the heavy beat of the loud-loud music. All spread out like a banquet before me; all's I've gotta do is pick one.

I join in the party on the dance floor, inserting myself smoothly between a blonde and a brunette. They sandwich me obligingly and we all three start to grind and hump together to the rhythm. Heaven! The brunette's big rack presses into my back, her hands clutching my hips; my hard cock pressing into the seam of the blonde's cushiony ass as I hold her around the waist with one arm while my free hand slides down the front of her thigh.

I catch a glimpse of someone out of the corner of my eye, someone at the edge of the dance floor. I turn my head for a better look; the brunette starts nibbling on my ear --very distracting! It wrings a small moan out of me and blurs my focus for a second. I'm getting distracted; torn between trying to see who grabbed my attention from the dim sidelines and paying the proper respect to the warm rush coursing through my body as the blonde places her hand over mine and slides it up to cup her tit.

Who *is* that? The chick on the sidelines isn't dancing or swaying to the beat, she's just standing there, staring right at me. She looks out of place, somehow. Big, frizzy, bottle-blonde hair, stripper's oversized breast implants, tacky, kinda trashy dress. Doesn't look like she's having a good time.

I'm suddenly aware of how much my dick hurts. And not in a good way. The pressure feels nearly unbearable, and I think it's increasing! What the hell? Panic, sharp and spiky, flares within me and I hitch a painful breath.

The weirdo on the sidelines points at me and... "Yyyyeeeeeeeeee!"

I jerk awake, bolting upright in my bed. The scratchy motel sheet slides down my sweat-soaked chest to puddle around my waist. Oh, god; a dream. It was a dream.

Sam stirs in his bed and mumbles groggily at me. "D'n, y'kay?"

Guess I must've made some kind of noise.

"I'm fine," I tell him quietly. "Just a dream."

He mumbles and turns over.

I'm having trouble getting my breathing back under control. My mouth is dry and my skin is clammy. I need some water. When I push the covers away and swing my jittery legs over the side, I notice that my dick is hard. Unpleasantly hard. My balls feel swollen to twice their normal size and I practically have to waddle to the bathroom for my drink.

I use the cup setting by the sink to get a drink from the tap. As I gulp down the contents, I spy my reflection in the mirror. That can't be right. I peel my sleep-shorts and Jockeys down. My cock looks huge. Angry red...veins standing out more prominently than seems natural...so rigid that it appears glued to my abdomen. And it *hurts*. Waaayyy too much pressure. I better do something about that.

A shower ought to cover up any sounds that might disturb Sam, and it'll facilitate clean-up, so I turn on the water, strip and hop in.

As the warm water splashes across me, I run a palm over my swollen flesh then pump vigorously. I can feel my aching balls tightening, the pressure building. Breathing in gasping pants, the sound of my pounding heart filling my ears, I focus entirely on the powerful sensations gaining force in my throbbing member and need-heavy balls. Just another few seconds... So ready... Just a few seconds more...

I brace my palm against the cool, tiled wall as my right hand moves faster and faster. My balls retract in preparation for the orgasm rapidly crashing upon me. I rise up on my toes as my hand becomes a blur of motion on my cock and every muscle in my body strains towards that one goal: the final spurting release I'm so desperate for. My blood hums through my veins; my whole body tightens and surges. My hips begin to pump. God! My cock is so hard I could practically drill holes in steel with it.

I'm suspended on the verge of ecstasy for an eternity; it's going to be one hellacious orgasm. I lean against the slick wall for support and my free hand moves to my aching testicles so I can fondle them gently, nursing my climax along. The combination of lightning-quick tugs on my cock and the strong, gentle manipulation of my balls is about to send me over the edge...

...and nothing happens. No orgasm, no release, just more and more pressure, with no end in sight. Aw, man; this is so wrong!


Another night, another wet dream.

Me and this bronze-skinned honey are making out in a supply closet. I pull away from her pouty mouth and grab for her lush tits. I knead them briefly through the cotton material then shove the shirt up to lick and suck on them as she leans against the wall. Her eyes shutter closed and she moans.

"Oohh, that feels good," she says in a sexy hiss as she puts her hands on my hips. "But what about you?" She smiles and opens her eyes as her fingers slide to the front of my jeans.

"Mmmm," I answer, nuzzling my face in her cleavage as her deft digits work my pants open.

She giggles and slides her hands into my briefs to caress my hot flesh. I let out a needy groan against her tantalizing chest then suck a nipple into my mouth. She expels a soft gasp of pleasure and slides her other hand down to cup my heavy sac...


I wake up with the worst case of blue-balls any man has ever had.

"I am never going to get any sleep," I mumble exasperatedly at the ceiling. I've got no girlfriend, and no prospect for one, since we travel so much. Besides, look at what happened to Jessica. And Mom. Urg; better steer away from that thought.

Maybe it's time to rent a professional. Gotta plan to get around Sammy, though. No way I'm telling my little brother, 'Hey, I'm going out to hire a hooker. Catch up with ya later.' I'll stash some cash and hit the red light district next night he's been up for too long. It's not like *I* get a good night's sleep anymore.


Well, that was --the opposite of humiliating, actually. But a huge waste of money. I stayed stiff as board the whole time. I think I shook her professional pride.


My condition is getting worse. I can't come. No matter what I do, the pressure in my cock and balls keeps increasing, but I can't achieve release. I'm hard all the time, and I'm now certain that my genitals are actually swollen beyond normal proportions. Seriously. I'm not joking; this isn't funny.


"Seriously. I'm not joking. This isn't funny."

Sam looks me in the eye, the smirk sliding away and the snicker trickling to silence. "You're really serious?"

"Yes!" Exasperated.

"So you really think it's that curse?"

"What the hell else could it be?" I ask. "It's definitely unnatural."

"You have supernatural genitals!" he chortles.

"Knock it off!" I resist the urge to throw something at him. "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Help you?" Sam inquires. "Oh, Dean; that sounds *really *bad," he informs me. But then something passes behind his eyes; something... He hunches his shoulders and looks down at his feet. "So..." He visibly gets a hold on himself and looks up; almost back to normal. "What exactly did that thing say to you again?"

"That I'll never have satisfaction again."

"Hm, that's a problem," he says, chewing his lower lip.

No shit.


Sam and I are fighting. We had succeeded in dusting the monster, but it had been a big cluster fuck.

Lotta tension; lot of adrenaline bleeding off; lotta fear left over from almost getting killed. So... fighting.

"You could have gotten me killed!" Sam screams at me, prowling around our motel room like some caged animal.

"Quit being such a baby," I sneer. I actually feel terrible about that --scared and angry at myself. But he doesn't have to get all hysterical about it.

"You used me as bait!" he accuses shrilly, turning his heart-attack-red face to me.

What do I say to that? Yeah, I kinda did, actually, but I didn't *plan* to; it just sort of came up as an opportunity on the fly when the original plan fell apart. He knows that; what is he pitching such a big fit about?

"You don't give a damn about me at all, do you." He says it more like a statement than a question, in a cold voice that frightens me more than any monster ever would. It makes my insides hurt.

"Sam, you're my brother; I love you." Somber, sincere and uncharacteristically open. I can't believe I'm having to talk about my feelings. Yech! "I would never let anything happen to you."

Sammy always gets all mushy when he worms Hallmark Channel stuff like that out of me. "You know I love you too, bro," he sighs, deflating. "I ju--"

The look on his face says something has just occurred to him. His brows furrow, then his eyes get wide, then he opens his mouth but no words come out.

"You wanna give me a clue here, Sam?" I prompt. Then it hits me. About the curse. We just admitted we love each other. These kinds of stupid curses are usually broken by 'true love'. "Oh." I shake my head in negation. "Oh, you can't mean..."

He nods. He doesn't look horrified by the idea; he looks thoughtful, like he's wading through a lot of information or ideas. Pensive. How can he look pensive?! I make some appalled noise, and he responds.

"Don't tell me you've never thought about it," he says with surety.

"With you?!" I practically squeak with something approaching outrage.

"With a guy, dumbass." Sam rolls his eyes.

I open my mouth to refute, but the truth is, he's got me on that one. And as much as I want to be disgusted by the idea of doin' it with him, my painful anatomy won't let me. Now it's my turn to look thoughtful. Sammy takes a couple of steps in my direction.

"But...you...Jessica..." All the blood has left my brain, headed south. I hope he can figure out what I'm trying to say. His lips quirk into a smile. Man, he's got nice lips.

"Yeah, so?" I guess he deciphered my meaning.

He's up close and in my personal space now. His voice gets softer and his expression is -- I don't know. Intense, sensual... Like our being together intimately is a foregone conclusion.

"I loved Jessica. And I was faithful to her. But that doesn't mean that..." He shrugs, voice trailing off. "Let me take care of you, Dean," he whispers; his thumb drags gently across my bottom lip. "You've always been willing to take care of me, so now it's my turn."

His caressing hand moves to the back of my head, urging me to him. Our lips meet for our first kiss; my first guy kiss. Stubble gently scrapes against my chin as his warm tongue explores my mouth.

All my reservations, my inhibitions, go flying. It must be the curse. Right? Ah, who cares! I explore every part of his mouth with my tongue, every part of his face with my lips.

Our shirts get tugged off and sent flying. His fingers lightly graze my nipples, which harden into tiny buds. Grroooaannnnn...

I grab a double handful of hair as Sam's arms encircle me and I devour my brother's mouth. He presses his straining groin against the long distention in my jeans. Sam sends deft fingers wandering down my chest, making me writhe, as his mouth seeks out the side of my neck. Then his hands skim lower, to the hard ridge at the front of my pants. I squirm and rise up on my toes, groaning as my brother fondles my erection through my clothes. Sam slides his hands around to cup my tensing ass as his mouth traces a pathway to my ear.

He works my pants down off my hips; the fabric slides down my legs; he helps me lose the shoes too. My hard cock is clearly outlined against the cotton of my jockeys, a wet spot of precome staining the white cloth. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my briefs and peels them off as he slides to his knees, tossing them negligently away. Sammy stares in fascination at my overstraining package and unhesitatingly wraps his hand around it. I've never had a man touch my dick before, and the feel of Sammy's calloused palm on it is oddly electrifying. He squeezes a little and more precome oozes out.

Sam licks all around under the head, teases the little slit with the tip of his tongue and nibbles up and down the quivering pole. My breathing speeds up, and I sigh with bliss. "Oh, God, that's wonderful."

Sam's warm, wet tongue licks along the length of my hot meat, then he inhales it entirely into his throat. I can't take it. With a few good sucks, I groan loudly and....

"You better lay down before you fall down," Sam chuckles, climbing to his feet and nudging me toward the bed.

I groan at the sudden absence of warm mouth and at the aborted climax. Sammy nudges me to the bed. My brain has shut down; all I can focus on is the ache in my loins and the warm, strong, salty-smelling body so close to me. I don't say a word as I stretch out on top of the covers. Sammy strips and joins me.

His mouth immediately attacks my ear; his hands glide down my torso, lavishing sensual caresses all over my needy, starving flesh. Then his mouth follows, nipping, kissing, sucking and licking. He traces circles around my navel, dampening the hair there and making me squirm in anticipation.

"Sammy! I don't know if I can take too much more of this!" I grit out painfully. It feels sooooo good! But all it is doing is making the problem worse. "If you can get me to release, I promise we'll come back to this stuff later," I tell him.

His hot, moist breath envelopes the head of my engorged member and his strong hand skims caressingly around my aching balls, cupping gently, briefly. "You're going to have to be the catcher," he tells me, "because your cursed dick is too big for me."

How would he know a thing like that? Oh. OH! Never mind; I'll think about it later.

I roll over onto my knees and elbows. Sammy presses something slick to my asshole with two fingers, working the lube in and around my opening. "Relax," he coos. "It'll feel good, but you gotta relax."

I can do that. I used to date this girl in Toledo who *loved* to shove things up my ass. Fingers, vibrators, tongue... all kinds of fun invaders. Damn, it sure felt good! So...no problem relaxing for little bro. Smirk.

He hustles up behind me and pulls my asscheeks apart, exposing my hungry hole. With only a few test nudges of his leaking cockhead, Sammy rams his meat balls-deep into my straining rectum. So thick and hard! He pauses for a moment, and I immediately start grinding back against him, encouraging him to start fucking me.

I'm so caught up in the intense pleasure I'm getting from his forceful, pistoning member that everything has become timeless; my universe is narrowed down to the desperate, electrifying spasms inside my body. I squeeze my eyes closed and concentrate all my attention on the mind-blowing sensations in my anus, balls and dick. The pleasure grows and grows, until I'm practically sobbing from it.

"Ohhhhhh, God," I whimper. I don't even care what I sound like; just please, God, let me come! "Ohhhh, yeah! That's it! Aw, fuck!" I wail as my sphincter clamps down like a vise around Sam's thrusting member. My body bucks violently and I spew my long-overdue load all over the coverlet.

With a sound that's almost a growl, Sammy spills his load in my ass, then collapses forward to drape in a sweaty heap over my back.

Eventually, I get enough brain cells firing again to ask my brother, "Hey, what if this isn't a permanent fix?"

"Huh?" he responds drowsily, cuddling against me.

I answer slyly. "We may have to keep doing this, you know; just to make sure the effects are permanent."

My brother laughs and gives my dick an affectionate squeeze. Now *that's* brotherly love!


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