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Cas knows Dean trusts him, but he's earned that trust and would never do anything to shake the faith Dean has in him. Dean is trembling, sweating, and whimpering as he writhes on the bed, tied down on his back and naked, but there's a smile on his face, a spark of excitement in his eyes, and his cock is hard and dripping onto his stomach.

“Good boy,” Cas says, a smile of approval on his face. “Such a good boy for me.”

Dean's entire body responds to the praise, and Cas loves it. He hears Dean's breath catch in his throat, his eyes widen slightly, his cock twitches, and his toes curl.

Cas repositions himself between Dean's spread legs, flicking the clamp pinching the underside of Dean's cock. Dean gasps, but doesn't say anything. He's not gagged. He could be cussing Cas out right now, but he's not. He's panting, making noises because Cas has asked him to feel free to do so, to never hide things from him.

Cas slowly runs his index finger over the line of clamps pinching along the seam of Dean's sac. “I'm so proud of you,” he says softly.

“Ah, mmm,” Dean moans, biting his lip. His hands are clenching into fists and then releasing as if his body wants him to get loose and smack Cas' hand away.

Dean's thighs are shaking, and a squeak comes from his mouth as Cas takes one of the clamps between his thumb and index finger and pulls just enough to make Dean squirm. Cas leans down, still pulling on the clamp, and flicks the tip of his tongue over the tip of Dean's cock, tasting the precome.

“Cas!” Dean hisses, squirming harder, then catching himself and settling.

Cas smiles. He knows Dean, inside and out, everything there is to know about him. He's rebuilt this man. He knows Dean craves approval, but would never ask for it. Knows Dean wants to be recognized, be appreciated, and have the chance to make someone proud.

Alastair constantly set him up for failure, and Cas knows it was an even worse torture than anything else he did to Dean in Hell. And he'd done horrific things to Dean. Dean needs to know that even if he has to work hard for it, success is within his grasp. He'll die trying if the one asking means anything to him. And Cas knows Dean thinks the world of him.

Cas pulls the clamp at the center of Dean's sac, dragging slowly instead of opening it and letting the pressure off. It won't rip the skin, but it'll hurt. Dean whimpers, then grunts as the clip finally slips off. Cas rubs sore spot between his thumb and index finger.

“Oh, fuck, Cas! Ah!” Dean yells as he squirms, but he never loses eye contact with Cas. He settles as the pain recedes, panting and trembling.

“Good boy,” Cas whispers, and Dean's cock twitches.

There's only the one clamp on the underside of Dean's cock. If Cas had started before Dean got hard, he'd have been able to make a line of them, but when Dean's fully erect, the skin is tight, and only the mid-shaft has enough skin to pinch.

The end of his cock is another matter. Cas holds the clamp up for Dean to see, and Dean breaks eye contact to watch where Cas will put it.

“Fuck,” Dean whimpers as Cas clips it on the foreskin to the left side of Dean's cock. It doesn't hurt yet. It won't for a few minutes, but Dean has learned that the hard part is taking them off.

Cas rebuilt Dean with foreskin, even though he'd been circumcised as a baby. It's more natural this way, the way Dean's cock was meant to be, and Cas was the one to show him all the benefits of having foreskin.

“Ah!” Dean practically whines as Cas yanks another clamp off his sac, knowing what's coming next and cringing. “Fuck! Oh, Cas, f-fuck!” he yells as Cas rubs the sore spot.

Dean's eyes are watering, but Cas knows he's not crying. It's a physical reaction to the pain, not an emotional one. Dean lets out a low moaning noise as the pain dies down, and Cas uses the clamp to pinch the foreskin on the right side of Dean's cock.

Dean snorts, and Cas grins at him. Cas likes that he's the one that gave Dean his foreskin. Dean figured it out. Cas hadn't told him. But Dean's observant, and he'd told Cas that even though Cas' face didn't usually reveal very much, something about his face changed when he was playing with Dean's new foreskin.

Cas has no idea what Dean sees on his face, and he has the feeling Dean's just saying his face changes, and instead Dean's made an educated guess about Cas' little obsession. It doesn't matter. They both know Cas likes playing with it, and Dean's not complaining.

Dean hadn't asked for any of this, probably never would have. Cas brought it up in a way that he knew would still knock Dean for a loop, but was the best of all the ways one could've suggested a sexual relationship because he knew Dean, knew what he liked, what he wanted, what he would never ask for, thought he never deserved.

And later when Cas flat out said he knew Dean liked cock and ball torture and that Cas wanted to include it in their relationship, Dean had sputtered for a moment, then sighed, then grinned. By that time he already trusted Cas not to damage him, not to take advantage, and not to fuck with his head.

That didn't mean it was easy for Dean. Alastair had taken something Dean had enjoyed before Hell and turned it into something to be afraid of. The first few times he and Cas played with CBT, Dean flinched a lot, not because he was scared of Cas, but because you don't forget forty years in Hell overnight, or ever.

Dean doesn't flinch away from Cas anymore. He squirms, jumps, screams, whimpers, trembles, and sometimes cries, but it's not because he's afraid.

Cas leans down and kisses Dean's right thigh. “You're being so good for me,” he says into Dean's skin, licking his way to the cut of Dean's hip, nibbling at a spot where he knows Dean is ticklish.

A sound somewhere between a laugh and a whine comes out of Dean's mouth as he squirms. He doesn't really like being tickled. He had told Cas it made him feel like a child, weak and small. Cas insisted Dean was anything but weak and small, that he was strong, brave, and had the most beautiful soul Cas had ever seen.

Dean had blushed, hadn't been able to keep eye contact with Cas for a while after that, but Cas could tell it healed something in Dean. Dean could handle torture, he could handle monsters and things that would make anyone else shit their pants, and he could handle a demon telling him he was worthless as he tortured him, but it was hard for Dean to take a compliment.

But Dean craved it, and the more Cas praised him, the more Dean came alive before his eyes, the more Dean healed his own soul from the inside out after what had been done to it in Hell. Dean still whines whenever Cas tickles him, but he doesn't ask Cas to stop anymore.

Cas tugs on the clamp pinching just below Dean's left testicle as he licks his way over Dean's stomach. Dean hisses, but then quickly starts moaning when Cas dips the tip of his tongue into Dean's navel. Cas smiles when he hears Dean yanking on his wrist bindings. They're made of very soft leather and are lined with suede so Dean can get rough and they won't break skin.

“Fuck!” Dean screams as Cas pulls of another clamp, this time from the right base of Dean's sac. “Oh, fucking, oh, Cas, fuck!” he growls as Cas rubs the sore spot.

Dean's writhing about, and it looks like he can't decide if he should try to close his legs or spread them open wider to stop the pain. Cas knows he really doesn't want it to stop, his body is just reacting.

He didn't scream back when they first started playing. He kept it inside, holding it in and trying to act tough, act like it wasn't hurting that badly. Cas would tell him to let it out, to make noise, but Dean is stubborn, and he'd bite his lips until they bled, grind his teeth, and tears would leak from his eyes. He'd choke on the pain sometimes.

It took a while for Cas to get through to him, but Cas was patient. He would tell Dean he liked hearing anything out of Dean, and the times Dean would choke on a scream, a small squeak leaving him without his permission, Cas would smile at him, tell him he wanted more.

Now that Dean lets it out, relaxes around Cas enough to scream and whimper, Cas knows Dean's happier, that he enjoys this more than he's ever enjoyed it before.

Cas takes hold of the clamp at Dean's mid-shaft with his left hand, pulling Dean's cock down. In a very coordinated move, Cas slaps down on the top of Dean's shaft, moving his left hand in tandem so he keeps hold of the clamp without ramming the clamp into the delicate underside of Dean's cock, avoiding injury.

“Ah!” Dean yelps, his entire body jerking in the restraints. “That's, ow, fuck, that fucking hurts,” he groans, his eyebrows drawn together.

Cas pulls down on the clamp again, raising his right hand. Dean's head comes off the pillow in anticipation, his eyes wide. Cas never teases. He'll use anticipation by pausing, but he'd never fake Dean out with odd jerking movements. It would change their play, make Dean flinch, and Cas would become too unpredictable for Dean to fully enjoy it.

Cas slaps the top of Dean's cock again, and Dean grits his teeth, growling and kicking. When Cas lets go, Dean's cock smacks down onto his stomach, making Dean hiss as the clamp flops down and pulls on his skin.

“Two clamps left on your balls,” Cas says, giving each one a flick with his finger, making Dean gasp.

Cas has kept in mind the time. Too little time with the clamps on and it won't reach the peak of pain, too long and his skin will go numb, dulling the pain when he pulls them off. Dean is right at fourteen minutes, and he'll be out of the sweet zone in just a few minutes, so he takes hold of each of the clamps, one in each hand.

Dean holds his breath, and Cas looks up at him. “Breathe,” he says, and Dean does. “Are you ready?” he asks, even though he knows Dean is.

Dean nods shakily. “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

Dean huffs out a laugh. “Ready,” he says with a nod.

“You want me to pull them off?” Cas asks as he wraps the fingers of his right hand around Dean's balls, squeezing just enough to make the clamps pinch more.

It's a mindgame, not a mindfuck. Dean knows the difference. This kind of play is enhanced when someone is good at mindgames, and Cas is damn good at it.

“Yes, I want you pull them off,” Dean says, nodding again and wincing.

“It's going to hurt,” Cas says, as if he's warning Dean, still playing with his balls.

Dean growls, his head flopping back on the pillow, then lifting up to look at Cas. “I know. Fuck. Take them off. Just take them off,” he says, his eyes on the clamps.

Cas moves his fingers to the clamps again, starts to pull, then stops. “You're sure you want them –,” he says, but is cut off by another growl from Dean.

“Yes, I fucking want them off,” he hisses.

“Ask politely,” Cas says.

Dean lets out a loud whine, his head flopping back onto the pillow again. “Please! Please, fuck, Cas, please take the fucking clamps off,” he says, his head coming off the pillow so he can look Cas in the eye.

“I think you can do better than that. It still wasn't very polite,” Cas says, twisting the clamp in his right hand a little.

“Ow, oh, sorry, I, ow, oh, I'm sorry,” Dean babbles.

Cas knows the pain making it hard for Dean to concentrate. He may have learned how to deal with pain in Hell, but he's human again, topside. It's all different now.

Dean's panting, but he looks Cas in the eye, his face softening so he looks as if he's pleading instead of demanding now. “Please, Cas. Take the clamp off, please,” he says, completely submissive.

Cas smiles. “Good boy,” he says, then pulls both clamps off at the same time.

“Oh! Oh, f-fucking, fuck!” Dean yells, then lets out a long scream as Cas rubs both sore spots.

Dean's legs are thrashing about, he's pulling on all four restraints, and as the screaming subsides, he collapses, nearly boneless on the bed, his lips quivering and a few tears running down his cheeks. He whimpers, panting so hard that his chest is heaving.

Cas gets down onto his belly, his legs stretched out behind him. He rests his arms on each of Dean's thighs and takes Dean's cock in his right hand. He pulls the clamp off the shaft of Dean's cock, the two off his foreskin, then wraps his mouth around Dean's cock, his tongue finding the sore spots and rubbing.

Dean whines, his hands clenching as he rides out the pain. It could've been worse had Cas left the foreskin clamps on longer, but he wants Dean in his mouth.

“Mmm, yeah, Cas,” Dean groans, his hips shifting, trying to get more of his cock inside Cas' mouth.

Dean's body is practically vibrating, his hair wet with sweat, his cheeks wet with tears. Cas sucks him, taking him in to the base, then slowly pulling off.

“I'm so proud of you for taking the pain so well,” Cas says, then mouths at the end of Dean's cock. “You were a very good boy. You were so polite,” he says, then pushes the tip of his tongue into Dean's slit.

Cas can practically feel Dean absorbing the praise. The trembling backs off slightly, and Cas knows it's because the words he just said to Dean connected, filled some of that emotional need.

It took Dean a long time to be able to cry in front of Cas and not get upset about it. Cas tried many different ways of reassuring Dean, but what worked in the end was licking the tears from his cheeks one night and telling Dean it was evidence of what Dean had endured for Cas and that it meant more to Cas than he could say.

Cas starts bobbing on Dean's cock, gently rolling his balls in his left hand, careful not to rub on the sore spots now that he wants Dean to come. Dean has never come from pain alone, and it can make his orgasms stronger if some pain is applied right as he tips over the edge, but when Dean's working his way toward orgasm, pain will back him off from the edge.

“Mmm, Cas, your mouth,” Dean moans, smiling at Cas with a sex stupid look on his face that Cas loves. “Feels awesome.”

Cas hums and Dean's hips jerk, a deeper moan coming out of him this time. Cas goes faster, taking Dean all the way in and letting him hit the back of Cas' throat on each in-stroke. Dean starts thrusting up, grunting and panting as he gets closer.

Cas hums again and Dean yelps, his body tensing, so Cas pulls on Dean's balls, adding some pain to the orgasm he knows Dean's at the beginning of.

“Fuck, Cas, fuck! Oh, Cas!” Dean screams as he comes, his legs and arms flailing, his body bucking.

Cas swallows him down, letting Dean thrust into his mouth as he slows down, his scream turning to a whimper and finally a long moan as his body relaxes into the bed, twitching a little as he lets go of all the tension.

Cas removes all the restraints without ever touching them, zapping them to the duffel bag in the corner of the room and crawling up to flop down next to Dean.

“Such a good boy,” Cas says as he nuzzles at Dean's neck, kissing and mouthing at him. “And after you take a nap, we'll be ready for round two,” he says, then grins as Dean lets out a whimper.

Dean snuggles up against Cas, not really moving all that much, but just making the distance between them even less. He sighs and falls asleep, Cas listening to his soft breathing.

The End