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All Your Fevered Dreams

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Dean was nervous.

He and Sam were walking down the street in St. Louis, where they had a jewelry store job planned for the next day. Dean was carrying a bag containing the brown leather collar he had just purchased at a custom craftsman shop. It was absolutely beautiful; the leather had been worked to the perfect point of softness, dark brown in color and comfortably flexible. A silver o-ring was attached to a small metal plate at the front.

He had spotted the collar design in the window as they’d wandered past the shop, and he hadn’t been able to resist stepping inside to investigate. When Sam had followed him in and seen what he was browsing, he had simply smiled and nodded at his older brother, offering his input until Dean had carefully selected the right one. The ring had been Sam’s suggestion, and the shop owner had been happy to add it for them.

Now, it was nestled in a brown wooden box with a small tag that read Cas in Dean’s sloping scrawl, and Dean was questioning his own sanity over buying it.

Sam found his anxiety pointless. “You know that he’s gonna love it,” he insisted, unlocking the car and waiting while Dean tucked the box into the bottom of his duffel, still stowed in the trunk. “It’s basically the next logical step, the way things have been going with the three of us.”

Dean wasn’t convinced. “I know he’ll like the collar itself, and he’ll be fine wearing it in the hotel rooms,” he answered, taking the keys and sliding into the driver’s seat. “I’m just worried it’s gonna put things in a different light long-term, you know? I don’t want him to regret how much control he’s handed over.” He chewed his lip, navigating them back to the hotel where Cas had been dropped off to check them in. “A collar means something bigger--more permanent and public, I guess, and I don’t want it to jar him out of the bubble of what we have, just us three. I don’t want him to freak out.”

Sam merely shook his head. “Well, you bought it because you want to see it on him, and even if he’s not sure, he’d give you anything you asked for without question. But I honestly think he’s going to love it, just as much as you do. Possibly more, because you do."

A few hours later, Dean was lying on top of the covers with a magazine, Sam in the shower and Cas kneeling next to the duffel that he and Dean shared, digging around for his sweatpants.

Cas made a confused noise, and Dean glanced over idly. If Cas wanted his attention he usually started by saying “Sir;” he was rarely hesitant to ask for something, or to start a conversation.

Dean’s heart jumped when he realized that Cas had discovered the wooden box at the bottom of the bag; he was still kneeling, holding the box in one hand and tracing his fingers curiously over the ink spelling out his own name.

Dean slid off of the bed, walking over and gently taking the box out of Cas’ hand. Cas didn’t resist, letting it go and raising his gaze to Dean’s face, his face calm and inquiring. Dean took a deep breath before he spoke. “I got you a gift today, but Cas, I want you to promise me that if you don’t love the idea--and I mean it, you have to want it,for you, not just ‘cause I’m asking--you will say no. Okay? It’s completely fine if you do.”

Surprise flickered through Cas’ sky blue eyes, but he nodded compliantly. Dean reached out, two fingers sliding against the side of Cas’ throat and pressing, very gently, in command. Cas swallowed under the pressure of his fingertips. “I promise,” he said obediently, his voice throaty with arousal and interest.

Opening the lid of the box, Dean angled it so Cas could see the leather band, tucked prettily into the black silk lining. To his amazement an ecstatic look filled Cas’ face, his pupils expanding as he timidly raised one hand to touch the collar. His fingers whispered over the edge of the leather, tapping against the o-ring, and then he withdrew his hand, remembering that he hadn’t asked yet.

“May I wear it?” His voice was low and gravelly, and the rough edge of excitement and desire in it sent sparks shooting down Dean’s spine. He’d already been half-hard just from thinking about Cas wearing the collar; seeing his boy’s enthusiasm made his cock fill completely in a dizzying rush.

“Of course.” Setting the box on the table, he pulled the collar out, leaning forward to slip it around Cas’ throat. The buckle closed smoothly, and Dean checked the fit with two fingers, feeling it settle snugly and comfortably around his lover’s neck.

The bathroom door opened and Sam entered the bedroom, pausing and smirking when he saw the scene laid out in front of him. “Does he like it?” he asked knowingly.

Cas’ eyes were wide and bright, filled with begging, and Dean laughed softly, tossing his brother a conspiratorial grin. “Apparently he does. Yeah, angel, go ahead.”

Permission given, Cas attacked the fly of Dean’s jeans, working his cock free from his underwear and throwing himself into the task of worshipping. In moments like this, Dean could hardly believe his own fortune. Hungrily his gaze tracked the way Cas’ huge forget-me-not blue eyes sank closed in bliss, as if being allowed to suck Dean’s dick was the ultimate nirvana; how his dark hair fell across his forehead in unruly curls as he bobbed his head, licking and kissing his way along the shaft; the way his hips made tiny swivelling motions, as if giving his master pleasure could get him off without a single touch to his own dick. Which, Dean noticed with a grin, was currently hard and dripping, strained from three days of denial, and tapping hopefully against his belly as he served Dean. But Cas was obviously not remotely concerned with his own need.

Sam smirked as he watched Cas’ eager performance, slipping a hand inside his own jeans and rubbing his rising erection lazily. “Y’know, Cas, I helped him pick it out,” he teased, and then he barked a laugh as Cas responded at once, giving Dean’s dick one final kiss before he tucked it away and crawled over to show Sam his appreciation, as well.

Rubbing himself lightly through the denim, Dean stepped closer, crouching behind Cas and raising a hand to grab the back of the collar, the grip allowing him to control the movements of Cas’ head. After watching his mouth move on Sam’s cock for a moment, Dean smiled carnally, and without warning he pushed Cas forward hard, making him take Sam’s cock deeper into his throat. Cas was making breathless, whimpering sounds of pleasure--and then he cut off with a low moan as Dean squeezed the collar band between his fingers, tightening the leather until it cut off Cas’ airway.

A soft hiss of approval escaped Dean when Cas’ only response to being so completely choked was to slide his hands behind his back, fingers folding together, his entire body going utterly still as Dean kept him there, airway sealed by the collar and mouth gagged by Sam’s cock.

It wasn’t until his shoulders began shaking, just barely, that Dean loosened the collar, and Sam slid his dick out of his throat. Cas coughed weakly, then dragged in several rough breaths. Tremors continued to rippled through his shoulders and arms, and when he spoke, his voice was cracked and broken, vibrating with need. “Please, may...may I come, Sir?”

Dean smiled, pride washing through him at the amount of power that Cas so willingly surrendered. Leaning in, he pressed a loving kiss to the top of Cas’ spine, and the hand not still curled loosely around the collar rose to gesture to Sam, inviting. His brother nodded, crouching in front of Cas with a fond smile and wrapping one hand around his cock, keeping his strokes light and fast.

“Go ahead, angel,” Dean whispered in Cas’ ear, then kissed the sweat-dampened skin below it. Cas lost control with a shattered cry, coming in hard spurts into Sam’s hand as the younger Winchester continued to stroke him through the orgasm, murmuring soothing words of affection as Cas rocked back and forth between them.

As soon as the haze of pleasure had receded, Cas ducked forward, licking his come out of Sam’s open palm without being instructed. When he straightened back up, he leaned forward to kiss Sam tenderly, and then twisted back to press his lips gratefully to Dean’s. “Thank you,” he breathed into his master’s mouth, and Dean smiled into the kiss, his heart bursting.

One of his hands rose to stroke tenderly through Cas’ thick dark hair. “Proud of you,” he murmured, watching his boy’s eyes glow at the praise.

Cas nuzzled into his neck, the collar a solid line of warmth between them. “I love it,” he whispered, and the raw happiness in his voice was beautiful and affirming. “Thank you so much, Sir.”

Later, when they were all in bed together, Cas curled up between the brothers like a massive, blissed-out cat, Dean lay awake, running a finger along the firm shape of the collar, letting his mind wander.

Before he and Sam had to prepare for the job the next day, he paused, pulling Cas aside and sitting on the edge of the bed to talk. He smiled when Cas promptly crawled between his knees, looking up at Dean with adoring eyes.

Dean stroked his fingers through his lover’s hair, his voice soft and sweet. “Cas, would you ever want to try something a little more...exhibitionist?” He took a deep breath, trusting that Cas would not be put off if the idea didn’t rub him the right way. “Like, going to a BDSM club, for example?”

Cas’ eyes got round, but there was no fear or consternation in them, merely the same contentment and intrigue there usually was when Dean proposed a new kind of play. “You mean...while wearing my collar? Being your sub in public?” At Dean’s cautious nod, a tenuous smile crossed Cas’ face, something shy but hopeful filling his eyes, and he licked his lips, thinking it over. “I...yes. Yeah, I’d...I’d like to.”

Dean grabbed his laptop, opening it on the bed beside him so that Cas could see the screen as well. After some careful Googling, they found the kind of place they were looking for, and when Sam returned with lunch, they showed him the website for a club in D.C.

Sam crouched in front of Dean to read over the description and reviews of the club, one hand reaching out absently to stroke through Cas’ hair. Like a puppy he responded to the affection, tilting his head into it and smiling contentedly when Sam turned to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Sounds good to me,” he said cheerfully, straightening up and handing Dean his handgun, which went promptly to its holster inside his jacket. “That’s about fourteen hours away, too, so it’s a safe distance to take a few days off after today’s job.”

Dean nodded, grinning as he stood. “Awesome. Go ahead and pack, Cas, and we’ll text you when we’re driving back. After that, it’s playtime.”

* * *

They used their first night in D.C. to relax, cataloguing the pull from the jewelry store job, and recovering from the exhaustion of fourteen hours’ driving.

The road trip had included breaking a new record; Sam had, with extreme effort, managed to remain focused enough not to have to pull over while had Cas sucked him off, sprawled across the wide front seat. Cas was slightly off his game, to be fair, given that Dean had been kneeling in the passenger seat, gripping his hips bruisingly as he’d fucked him hard and fast. Cas had been extremely proud when he’d managed to get both brothers off at once, leaving his face and ass splashed with white, and he had refused to be cleaned off. He’d spent the rest of the drive curled into Dean’s side, come drying on his skin and Dean’s lips against his hair.

On the day they had selected to go to the club, Dean took Cas clothes shopping for the first time since he had joined the Winchesters. As they walked into the department store, Cas looked around with a self-conscious smirk, which widened shyly as he glanced up at the taller man walking beside him.

“It feels very odd to walk alongside you,” he commented dryly. “And to be fully dressed when you’re near me.”

Dean laughed, placing one hand firmly on the back of Cas’ neck and rubbing the skin gently, the gesture both socially appropriate and distinctly possessive. It made Cas visibly relax, which had been his goal. “I’ll admit, I do prefer you on your knees, and naked,” he teased Cas, leaning in to murmur the words into his ear, and he grinned wolfishly when Cas shuddered slightly, his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink.

After browsing a little, Cas selected a pair of dark blue jeans that had some stretch to the fabric, which would fit him just loosely enough to allow for him to move--and of course, to crawl--fairly easily. “Can I skip underwear?” he asked thoughtfully, testing the flex of the denim, and Dean chuckled, slipping behind him closely enough that Cas could feel his approval of the suggestion through both of their pants.

Next Cas chose a long-sleeved black button down, nodding when he found additional buttons above each elbow. “I’ll wear it with the sleeves rolled up,” he explained as they entered the dressing room stall, ignoring the attendant’s scandalized look when Dean followed him in. “I want something that you can get your hands inside of easily.”

Dean managed to wait until he had tried the outfit on, but once Cas had closed the second buttons, leaving his forearms exposed below the folds of dark material, he couldn’t resist rewarding him.

He pushed Cas against the dressing room wall and kissed him roughly. “Love the way you think, how you want to be so good for me,” he growled, and Cas’ pupils blew wide. He grinned impishly, letting Dean push his hands over his head and pin them there. Cas spread his legs to allow Dean closer, and he bit down on a moan as he ground down, rubbing the hard line of his cock against Dean’s thigh.

Playfully Dean reached one hand down, slapping Cas’ ass lightly in mock reprimand, and obediently Cas forced his hips to stillness. “You have to save that for tonight, baby,” Dean murmured, gently biting his kiss-swollen mouth, and Cas whined faintly, but managed a shaky nod.

When he was back in his own clothes, waiting in line, Cas glanced down at his feet. “What shoes will I be wearing?”

Dean thought about it as he made their purchases, then smiled. “We’ll just use your sandals,” he decided. “You’ll be taking them off as soon as we’re inside, anyway.”

Cas merely nodded, pleased by that promise.

After a light dinner they changed in the hotel room, the brothers going with comfortable jeans and black t-shirts. When Cas slid on his shirt, Dean raised a hand, stopping him before he fastened the buttons. Cas paused in confusion, looking at him expectantly, and then broke into a smile when Sam turned toward him, holding up two boxes. The first he recognized, but the second was new.

Sam slipped the collar box into Cas’ old backpack, which was their portable toybox for the evening. “We’ll put that on you once we’re inside the club,” he told Cas, who nodded in acceptance. “But,” Sam smiled, “Your other gift needs to go on now.”

Cas’ gaze swung to Dean, awaiting instructions, and Dean smiled softly, his blood singing at the kneeling man’s submission. He nodded at the bed. “Come lie down, angel.”

Once Cas was lying comfortably along the foot of the bed, Sam moved to stand over him, opening the box to reveal a pair of tweezer clamps with black rubber tips, connected by an eight-inch chain. Each clamp was circled by a tiny adjustable ring in order to tighten them.

A shudder ran down the length of Cas’ body, his back arching slightly in anticipation, and the movement made his shirt fall further open, baring his chest completely.

Dean chuckled, perching on the edge of the bed and stroking one hand across Cas’ skin, watching as his nipples hardened under the teasing contact. Dean’s fingertips skated around the pebbled flesh, not quite touching them, and he grinned as Cas twitched with desperation. “I think he likes the idea,” he joked, grinning up at Sam.

Sam hummed in agreement, climbing up to straddle Cas’ hips. He held the clamps out above Cas, letting the chain dangle down tauntingly, the metal links grazing over Cas’ stomach and up the middle of his chest between his nipples. “Seems like it,” he said playfully, watching Cas’ pupils expand hopefully. “You want me to put these on you, Cas?”

Cas nodded wordlessly, wriggling beneath Sam, and Dean gave his cheek a pat that was only just light enough not to be a slap. The sting of the impact seemed to electrify Cas, and his eyes leapt to Dean’s face as his lips opened in a silent O of pleasure and pain. The older Winchester’s voice was ragged with lust. “Wanna hear you say the words, angel.”

Cas swallowed, and tried to speak, but only a cracked whimper escaped him. He swallowed again, then found his voice. “Yeah, yes. I want them on me, please, Sam.”

Sam let out a low rumble of approval, not minding the use of his name in place of ‘Sir,’ and leaned down. His mouth closed over Cas’ nipple, sucking and nibbling to get it good and firm. Cas arched up at the sensation of Sam’s teeth, a cry slipping from him as his fists clenched, and he struggled against the urge to grasp the long hair trailing over his skin.

Sam alternated back and forth between his nipples, getting them bright red and puffy, ready for the unforgiving bite of the clamps.

When he finally lifted his head, Dean picked up the warm towel he had dampened earlier for this purpose, rubbing it across Cas’ chest to soothe the skin and to comfort Cas, who was twitching and gasping from arousal and over-sensitivity. When the towel was withdrawn, Sam carefully placed the clamps, sliding the rings up until the tweezers were secure around Cas’ nipples.

Another shudder ran through Cas as the clamps tightened, and a tiny “Oh” escaped his lips. Dean leaned over him, stroking his hands tenderly up and down his arms and waiting for Cas to look at him before he spoke, smiling gently down at him. “How’re you doing, baby?”

Cas blinked owlishly, looking back and forth between the brothers with awe in his deep blue eyes. “So good, feels so good, thank you so much,” he managed to breathe out, and Dean grinned broadly, leaning down to kiss him upside-down.

As Dean stood back up, Sam gave the chain a small experimental tug, and Cas gasped loudly, arching up again. Laughing, Sam climbed off of him, then pulled Cas gently to his feet and began buttoning his shirt for him. “Yeah, those’ll be perfect.”

They parked the Impala a street away from the club. They could already hear the music as they walked over, pulsing out onto the street from the open doorway. It was bass-heavy but not too loud, still possible to hear each other over, and Cas was smiling as they walked in.

Dim red and blue lighting gave the place a simultaneously romantic and sensual atmosphere, along with a few flashing strobe lights to add more of a nightclub ambiance. At the front door, they stopped to pay their entrance fees and sign liability waivers, and to rent a locker for their shoes and coats. Cas slid his sandals off without being told, then waited while the brothers removed their jackets and pulled the collar out of the toy bag.

The hallway between the front door and the main club floor was carpeted in thick blue, and the dimly-lit space was already fairly crowded with couples and small groups. Many people had their partners kneeling at their feet, in various levels of undress, with most wearing collars and several of them on leashes.

Cas hesitated near the door to the locker room, looking around at the crowd with wide eyes. Dean returned to his side immediately, cupping his face between his palms and making Cas look him in the eyes, distracting him from staring at a sub who knelt naked beside his master, wearing a collar that was linked by a chain to the steel cock-cage controlling his erection.

Dean’s voice was low and firm, demanding Cas’ attention. “We won’t do anything you don’t like, baby, I promise. If you don’t want to kneel, or wear your collar, we can just--”

Cas cut him off with a quick kiss, his lips pressing needily against Dean’s for a brief moment before he drew back, smiling. His expression had cleared, and his shoulders were relaxing. “I want to. Please, Sir.”

Dean took a deep breath, noting the signs that Cas had found his headspace and slipped into his preferred role, and after a pause he nodded in acknowledgment of Cas’ choice. He turned back toward Sam, who held the collar out to him without a word. “Okay, then. Kneel for me, angel.”

Cas sank to his knees easily, looking up at Dean with love-filled eyes as he gently buckled the collar on, fingers checking as always to make sure it wasn’t too tight or too loose. Dean looked Cas over, then smirked, reaching down to undo several of his shirt buttons--just enough that it gaped open prettily, leaving the chain that swung teasingly between his nipples clearly visible.

As Dean straightened up, Cas’ eyes slid to a couple walking past them, the female sub wearing a leather leash that her Domme held firmly in one hand.

Dean glanced over to follow his gaze, then stroked his hand through Cas’ hair, drawing his gaze back to his master. “Do you want to be on a leash, angel?”

Cas considered the idea, imagining how it would feel, and then shook his head, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Dean’s thigh with a soft, contented sigh. “Not tonight, Sir. I’ll stay right beside you.”

Dean’s smile softened, and his fingers tugged lightly in Cas’ dark hair, the little stings reassuring Cas of his approval and pride. “Good boy. Alright, let’s go in.”

He turned toward the entrance to the main floor, where Sam was waiting for them with the toy bag. The brothers walked in slowly, taking in the setup of the room, and Cas crawled between them gracefully, occasionally brushing his shoulder against one of their legs as if to reassure himself.

The entire room was carpeted in the same royal blue as the entranceway, with the walls paneled in blue and red to match the lighting. Black-painted alcoves were scattered along the left and far walls, with black curtains that could be pulled across them for privacy. These appeared to contain low tables and small couches, and were lit by normal yellow lamps, allowing couples or groups to socialize, or play, more discreetly.

On the far side of the room was the bar, with a large wood-paneled dance floor in front and to the right of it. Small round tables were scattered around the edge of the dance floor, set low to the floor, each seating a handful of people. Many were occupied by one or two guests, drinking and chatting, most of whom had companions kneeling at their sides, their knees cushioned by the carpet.

The right side of the room had small raised stages, which contained different toys and tools, allowing couples to pay to engage in public scenes. There was a podium to one side, where a staff member wearing all black was signing pairs up to use the stages. The man had a chain around his throat, from which hung a large silver key, and Dean was curious whether the key went to the collar of a specific submissive, or if it was merely an accessory.

He eyed the stages with interest, taking in the different kinds of equipment the club offered. Then Sam nudged his arm, and when he turned back his brother nodded to where there were two lounge chairs available near the bar. They made their way across the room, Cas crawling faithfully between them. When the brothers sat, he moved promptly between the chairs, turning around so that he knelt between them, his back straight, hands resting on his thighs. Without a word Dean’s hand went to his hair, alternating between petting and gripping affectionately.

A woman appeared from the bar area, wearing a tight black dress and a black and red collar, which was sealed by a tiny padlock. Dean wondered again how many of the employees were in D/s claims, or if the collar was merely part of the uniform.

She kept her eyes down as she approached them, offering both seated men a drink menu without speaking. Objectively, she was quite pretty; thick waves of hair not quite as dark as Cas’, with full red lips, fair skin, and killer curves. The nametag pinned to her cleavage-bearing dress said Meg.

“Whiskey for me, neat,” Dean told her, noticing with a small smile that Cas shivered beside him at the authority in his voice. Sam ordered a beer, and when the woman gestured very slightly at Cas, Dean’s smile widened, appreciating the deference shown by not speaking without invitation or addressing his sub directly. “He’ll have water.”

She nodded, turning and vanishing immediately, and was back within minutes, expertly balancing a tray with their drinks. The glass and the bottle were handed over, and then the water offered to Dean without so much as a glance down at Cas. Dean smiled, thanking her as he took the bottle.

When she was gone he took a long sip of his whiskey, welcoming the smooth, familiar heat rushing through him, and then set it aside. Uncapping the water, he leaned down to let Cas drink. As he sipped at it gratefully, Cas’ eyes swept around the room, taking in his surroundings.

Dean stroked his hand lightly through Cas’ hair, handing the bottle to Sam to close. “Do you see anything you’d like to try, baby?”

Cas licked his lips and nodded, but there was a slight tightening around his eyes. Dean leaned closer, his shoulders shielding Cas’ view to give him a feeling of privacy, reminding him that only Sam and Dean were listening. “I looked something up online, that I really want to try,” Cas admitted quietly. “They have suspension equipment here, Sir.”

A warm buzz rushed through Dean at Cas’ words, and he glanced over his shoulder at one of the stages nearest them. A young male sub was bound with both arms and one leg raised up in the air, leather cuffs holding his wrists up and linked together, and another around his ankle. His leg was raised just high enough to allow his Dom easy access between his legs, where he was sliding a vibrator in and out of the sub’s ass, while his other hand stroked the boy’s cock. Tiny, ecstatic noises were slipping from the submissive’s mouth, his eyes fluttering open and shut as he watched the crowd enjoying his pleasure.

Cas tapped a finger on Dean’s knee, and he looked back down at his boy, who was also watching the submissive closely. But there was unease in his blue eyes, as well as interest. “I’m...not sure I want to do it on the public stage, yet,” he confessed.

Dean gave him a reassuring smile, leaning down to press a kiss to Cas’ lips. “That’s fine, angel.”

Sitting back up, he turned and gestured for Meg, and she returned to his side immediately, eyes still downcast. Stopping beside him, she leaned down to hear him as he spoke softly. “Are there private rooms available with the same kind of equipment used on the stages? We’d like to try suspension, but he isn’t feeling like performing for strangers just yet.”

A smile touched her crimson lips, and she looked down at Cas with a kind smile, which he returned shyly after getting a nod from Dean, whose hand sank back into his hair in affirmation.

“We do,” she answered, her voice high and musical. She pointed at a hallway with black walls, which wound around a corner behind the man at the podium. “Twenty rooms, five of which have ‘viewing panels’ that allow paying guests to observe through one-way mirrors for those who don’t mind an audience, but prefer not to interact with them. The others are completely private; you rent by the hour, and have access to any of the equipment we have--there are hooks and pulleys and whatever you could need rigged in the rooms. They are under surveillance,” she added, shrugging slightly in apology, “...but that’s for the subs’ safety. We don’t have a membership system, so Doms can just come here, meet someone, and rent a room with them. We don’t want someone getting hurt behind closed doors because we didn’t realize a sadist had gotten hold of ‘em.”

She smiled down at Cas again, who had wrapped one arm around Dean’s leg for stability as he listened to her. His other hand had reached out to rest on Sam’s knee, and Sam’s hand was covering his, thumb stroking the skin gently as he waited for them to finish the conversation, idly observing the room around them. “I don’t think that’s a problem, in this case.”

“No, it isn’t,” Dean agreed with a smile. “But that’s a good precaution. We won’t mind the cameras, right?” he asked Cas, who nodded eagerly. Dean chuckled, grinning at Meg. “Thanks.” As she melted away again, he downed his whiskey, then rose from his seat. “Shall we?”

Sam stood as well, falling into step beside him, and Cas crawled forward at once, remaining between the brothers as they crossed the club floor.

At the podium they paid for a private room, signing in for two hours, and received the keycard for room 5. As they entered the playroom, Cas raised his eyes, looking around the small space with curiosity. When his eyes latched onto the hooks set in the ceiling, and then onto the box labeled Ropes, Cas licked his lips, his excitement clearly rising.

Sam set their bag on the table, then turned to Dean, who nodded. Both brothers tugged off their shirts and shoes, leaving them folded on the table, then began exploring their options, collecting the necessary ropes and wrist cuffs. Reaching into the bag, Sam also pulled out a brand-new silicone cock ring, the color of which matched Cas’ eyes perfectly.

When Cas spotted the toy his eyes widened comically, and he looked to Dean for explanation. Dean chuckled, crossing to him and crouching to kiss him firmly. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, baby. Sammy saw it at the store today, and liked that it matches your baby blues.” He gave his boy a wink, loving that it still made a tiny blush fill Cas’ cheeks. “And we both thought you might like it to help you keep control a little longer than usual, since we’re trying something new.”

Cas considered that, glancing over at the ropes that would shortly be restraining his hands to the ceiling. Then he nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Yeah. I think I’ll need it, Sir,” he said with an answering grin, and Dean kissed him once more, then stood and returned to Sam’s side.

“Alright, angel, let’s string you up. Come here.”

Cas rose slowly to his feet, coming toward the metal hook overhead with his eyes on the brothers. He kept his body loose, letting Dean finish unbuttoning his shirt and slide it slowly off of his arms. When it was removed, Dean gave the chain hanging from his nipples a small, playful tug, smirking when Cas whimpered. The jeans came off next, and his clothes were set aside with the brothers’.

Sam stepped forward, crouching in front of Cas to gently slide the ring around the base of his erection. The pressure as it settled elicited a faint hiss from Cas, but when the boys looked at his face, he nodded hastily to indicate that he was okay, his eyes already clouding with pleasure.

Smiling, Sam slipped his hand around Cas’ cock and gave it a few light strokes, laughing softly when Cas whined low in his throat and fought not to buck into his grip. Sam pressed a tender kiss to his hipbone, then eased back to his feet.

Dean stepped in front of him, gently fastening the cuffs around Cas’ wrists, and then linked them together with the clasp set at the inside of each band. His fingers stroked around the edges of the cuffs, checking that they wouldn’t cause chafing if Cas pulled at them.

Meanwhile, Sam grabbed the rope; two feet of scarlet cord with small hooks on each end that clipped to the wrist cuffs, and a center piece that could be hooked to the thin, adjustable chain which would attach to the ceiling hook.

By the time Dean led Cas beneath the metal loop, cuffed and compliant, the rope was swaying gently on its chain, waiting for him.

With gentle hands Dean, guided Cas’ hands up over his head, and together the brothers clipped the ends of the rope to Cas’ wrists. The final view was stunning: Cas stood with his weight balanced primarily on the balls of his feet, arms extended fully over his head, his hands facing each other and and just close enough that the heels of his palms brushed together. Above his head, the rope met each wrist at the front of the cuff, the scarlet cord brushing against his little fingers as he swayed.

Cas looked up, watching the rope swing slowly back and forth as he tested the hold of the cuffs. And then he smiled, absolutely contentment written plainly on his features.

Watching his expression, Dean grinned, then glanced over at their bag. “Blindfold, angel, or no?”

“Yes, please, Sir.”

Dean tugged it out of the backpack, stepping closer to Cas and pausing only long enough to press one hard, loving kiss to his lips before he slid the mask down over his eyes. Cas hummed merrily, his head rolling back lazily as he slipped into his headspace.

Standing behind Cas, Sam lifted an object out of one of the supply bins, turning to show it to Dean. He tilted his head, asking his brother’s permission. Raising an interested eyebrow at his choice, Dean smirked and nodded, and Sam lifted the pleated leather crop, swinging it swiftly into his open palm. The crop struck his skin with a deeply gratifying thwack.

At the sound, Cas’ entire body went still, his face turning marginally toward the source and his lips parting on an airless gasp. There was no fear whatsoever in his body language, merely heightened awareness, and Dean had to chuckle.

“Do you know what that is, angel?”

Cas licked his lips, head still angled to keep his ear toward Sam. “I...I think so, Sir.”

Sam moved in front of Cas, reaching out to let the head of the crop trail down his chest from his throat to the right nipple, brushing against the clamp and making Cas gasp aloud. A tiny flick of leather against the metal made him spasm, and the chain supporting his body weight clinked cheerfully as he uttered a small, “Oh!"

“Tell us your safeword, Cas,” Dean murmured, eyes tracking his lover’s every twitch.

Cas’ hands flexed over his head, and then relaxed, fingertips grazing together. “Sioux Falls, Sir.”

Dean nodded, accepting that Cas could still think clearly. “Good. Do you need to say it?” When Cas merely shook his head, still shifting his weight idly from side to side, Dean let go of his inhibitions. “Go ahead, Sam.”

His brother grinned broadly, walking behind Cas and running the crop down his shoulders and bare back. He traced it over the firm curve of Cas’ ass, and then with another small flick of his wrist, he brought it down with a sharp snap against Cas’ left ass cheek. Cas moaned wantonly, pushing his hips back as if asking for more.

“You like the crop, huh, angel?” Dean felt euphoric, his body pulsing with energy and desire as he watched the flush that spread slowly across Cas’ pale skin, his cock straining inside its ring as a single drop of clear pre-come welled up at the slit.

Cas’ head tipped sideways against his arm, mouth falling open in a loose, dopey smile. “Uh...uh-huh. Yes, Sir.”

The crop landed again, striking the other ass cheek, leaving matching bright pink marks. A high, happy noise escaped Cas, his body arching and his toes curling in the dark blue carpet.

He was loving it, and Dean decided that it was time to push him a little bit farther. It was such a heady rush, knowing that Cas really would try to take anything he could dish out, and he wanted to play with that now, while he had the smaller man quite literally strung-up and at his mercy--and thrilled to be there. Dean’s voice emerged as a low growl. “Harder, Sammy.”

His little brother obliged him, hand flying to deliver a series of sharp, biting strokes that made Cas wriggle and whimper both of their names, along with variations of, “Thank you,” and “More, please, Sir...”

When he had struck Cas at least ten more times with the crop, Sam set it aside on the table, stepping forward and rubbing his bare hand over Cas’ reddened skin. The hot contact made Cas moan eagerly, and Sam swung his hand, spanking him once, hard and swift, on each side. Cas’ entire body bucked forward in pleasure, his cock slapping wetly against his belly as it tried to defy the ring and reach for release.

Dean laughed softly, absolutely loving the display, and stepped closer to run a fingertip along the swollen shaft of Cas’ cock, gathering up the pre-come and placing it at Cas’ lips. “Good thing we got the ring,” he joked, smirking when Cas obediently licked the clear fluid off his finger. “I think you’d b e having trouble waiting for permission, otherwise.”

Cas squirmed and nodded, sucking needily at Dean’s finger. Watching the pale lips latch so hungrily onto the digit, Dean smiled proudly, raising his free hand to tug once, hard, on the chain still dangling from Cas’ nipples.

Something like a squeal tore out of Cas, and he arched onto his toes, instinctively trying to relieve the pulling on his sensitive chest.

Sam was poking through their bag, and when he looked back over he was smiling wickedly, eyes on Cas’ face. “Cas, did you like watching that boy on the stage? Hanging from the ceiling like you are, his master fucking him with a vibrator?”

A tiny ripple of tension went through Cas at the question, and Dean gave the chain another small, playfully warning yank, which made the restrained man go very still, his face turning back toward Sam. “I...yes. I liked it, Sir.”

Sam stepped forward, moving to stand behind Cas again and meeting Dean’s gaze under his raised arms, holding Cas’ vibrator out to him. “Well, then. Want to play with him while I get him nice and stretched, and ready to take this?”

Dean nodded in agreement, accepting the toy and switching it on. Lightly he tapped the rounded black tip against Cas’ leaking cock, grinning when the buzzing contact made him jump. “By all means.”

Sam pulled the lube out of the backpack, slicking his fingers and setting to work opening Cas’ hole. At the first penetration of his finger, the suspended man moaned gutturally, planting his weight on the balls of his feet and pushing his hips back toward Sam wantonly. Laughing low in his throat, Sam swung his free hand, giving Cas’ thighs a solid smack in mock reprimand. “Stay still, sweetheart. I’m taking my time with your sweet ass tonight.”

Cas whined feebly, and then the sound warped into a moan of need as Dean pressed the running vibrator along the full length of his cock, making the shaft quiver against the black silicone. “Behave, angel,” he murmured teasingly, running his fingers up Cas’ belly and chest to flick the clamps, while brushing the vibrator over his dick and balls tauntingly.

By now Sam had two fingers gliding easily in and out, and Cas whimpered, going slightly limp at the multitude of sensations. “May--may I have the vibrator now--Sir?” he asked, sounding choked by all of the pleasure.

Sam paused, then twisted his hand slightly, making Cas jerk. “It’ll be pretty tight still, if I do it now,” he warned quietly, and Cas nodded eagerly.

“Yes, Sir,” he panted. “That’s--oh,” he gasped, shifting from foot to foot as Sam’s fingers grazed his prostate. “That’s why--I want it already, Sir.”

Dean chuckled, switching the vibrator off and offering it beneath Cas’ raised arm. “Can’t deny him when it says it that prettily. Go on and fuck him, Sammy.”

Sam hummed in approval, withdrawing his fingers and adding some lube to the toy. Pushing it carefully inside Cas, he turned it back on, easing it right on up to full speed. Cas’ entire body locked down around the intrusion, a groan of pure lust escaping him. Grinning, Sam began sliding it in and out of him a little more rapidly, making Cas twist and writhe in place, his weight hanging helplessly from the rope.

Cas jerked a little in surprise when Dean’s fingers clenched around his jaw, holding his head still to press a searing kiss to his mouth as he was fucked by the vibrator, and then gradually Cas’ whole body seemed to hone in on the feeling, focusing on the grounding touch of Dean’s lips against his own.

There was the sound of foil tearing, and Dean drew back to glance over Cas’ shoulder and watch as Sam opened a condom up. His brother paused, raising it in inquiry. “I assume we’d prefer to avoid too much mess?”

Dean chuckled self-consciously, glancing around the room that didn’t belong to them. Not that hotel rooms did, but he’d never bothered thinking about that. This time, they had the winking red eye of a camera reminding them of where they were. “Yeah, we may as well be polite. You gonna fuck him?"

Even as Cas shuddered at the words, Sam gave his older brother a May I? look. Dean grinned in response, pleased as always by Sam’s subtle deference to him in their dynamic with Cas. He nodded encouragingly, and Sam let go of the vibrator, leaving it humming inside Cas as he opened his jeans and rolled the latex over his cock.

Dean stroked a fingertip down Cas’ cheek and throat, feeling the way his collar tightened and shifted as he swallowed, and the soft hammering of his pulse beneath the leather. “Alright, angel, Sammy’s gonna fuck you for me. I want you to make him come, alright? I’m gonna watch, for now.”

Cas nodded obediently, letting out a soft whine that escalated into an excited moan as Sam gently nudged his feet further apart, easing the vibrator free and sliding his dick inside easily. Cas’ weight slumped forward, his upper body leaning so that the rope supported him completely as he tried to bend far enough for Sam to fuck him comfortably. Their height difference worked well for the position, and Sam’s hands closed around his hips in a bruising grip as he began to pound into him, making Cas bounce up onto his toes under the force of each thrust.

Dean circled the two of them slowly, hand massaging his cock through his jeans, watching Sammy fuck his boy’s hole roughly. Moving back in front of Cas, he reached down, stroking the bound man’s dick torturously slowly, his fingers occasionally easing further down to where the ring held him tightly, and then even lower, teasing and fondling his swollen balls.

Cas threw his head back and whimpered, thrashing slightly as the pleasure overwhelmed his mind. Between his legs Dean’s hand went still, cupping around his balls as he was pushed forward and back by Sam’s pounding hips. With every forward thrust, Dean’s fingertips grazed against the spot where Cas’ hole was stretched wide around Sammy’s dick.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he muttered, and it was as if Cas locked onto that, focusing his efforts into making Dean proud of him. He must have been squeezing down more tightly, because Sam groaned in bliss, his hips bucking faster. He leaned in close, one hand sliding up to grip Cas’ hair and pull his head back, and his teeth sank deeply into Cas’ straining and flexing shoulder just below the edge of his collar.

Cas cried out, body jerking beautifully, arching into the tug and the bite, and Sam came with a low growl, biting down hard enough to leave an imprint of his teeth when he finally released Cas.

Dean smiled proudly, watching Sam ease out of Cas with a satisfied sigh. “He feel good, all stretched out like this, trussed up from the ceiling?”

Sam nodded with a contented smirk, discarding his condom and zipping his jeans back up as he turned and sank into one of the plush armchairs in the room. “God, yeah. Felt fucking amazing. The position does wonders for how tight his ass feels.”

They were interrupted by Cas’ whimpering, his thighs moving restlessly as if he was resentful of the current emptiness in his ass. Snorting, Dean fished the plug out of the backpack, then came round to kneel in front of Cas, running a calming hand up his leg. Cas stilled immediately, waiting for Dean to instruct him.

“I’m gonna plug you for now, just so you don’t have to feel empty, okay, angel? And then I’m gonna suck you off--” Cas made a strangled noise of surprise, and Dean laughed, his fingers squeezing his boy’s still-pink ass cheeks affectionately. “Yeah, you’re definitely coming tonight. You’ve been so damn good for us, baby. I’m gonna suck you off, and you’re gonna come down my throat, like my good boy. Then I’m gonna take the plug out, borrow a condom from Sammy, and finish off by seeing just how good your hole feels when you’re danglin’ from the ceiling like this. Okay?”

Cas could only nod mutely, and from behind him, Sam laughed. “Not borrowing,” he pointed out with a grin. “I doubt I’ll want the condom back.”

“True,” Dean said with a laugh, raising a hand to catch the lube Sammy tossed him. He slicked the plug up, then reached between Cas’ thighs and eased it inside his hole while Cas moaned and squirmed at the pleasure of being re-filled. Then Dean grabbed his thighs, making him go still, and sank his mouth down onto Cas’ cock.

The noise he let out was gorgeous and needy, almost a sob, and Dean smiled around his mouthful, raising his eyes to watch Cas’ face.

He was trying to speak, mouth opening and closing helplessly around wordless grunts and gasps, and Dean slid his mouth off in order to lessen the distraction, chuckling when that elicited a small sad noise. “What is it, baby?”

A hard swallow made Cas’ throat flex, skin glistening with perspiration and voice trembling with need. “Want...want to...see you. Please, Sir?”

Dean’s grin widened at the request, and he nodded, glancing over at his brother. Sam rose promptly and came back to them, reaching up to slide the blindfold off. Cas blinked against the dim lighting, then looked down, his pupils blowing to overwhelm the deep blue irises as he took in the sight of Dean on his knees in front of him. “Oh, fuck.”

Without a word, Dean sucked him back down, and Cas bucked into his mouth with a shout, his hands straining against the cuffs enough to rattle the chain. Sam stepped back, watching the display with a feral grin, then said softly, “The ring, Dean.”

Dean nodded back, still sucking, and moved his hands to ease the the silicone band carefully back up Cas’ length. He removed his mouth only long enough to slip it off, and then resumed his mission.

Without the ring restraining him, Cas’ entire body went stiff, tension rippling down through his hips and thighs as he fought to resist the orgasm that Dean was practically sucking out of him. “Ngh--De--Sir, I’m gonna--I can’t last--”

Dean laughed around his dick, letting the sound vibrate along the shaft, and gestured for Sam to answer for him. Sam’s voice was liquid sin as he grinned, reaching up to grip Cas’ hair lovingly, and angled his head to make him look down at Dean. “Go ahead and come, angel.”

For added affirmation of the order, Dean raised one hand, tugging very lightly on the clamp chain dangling above his head.

Cas obeyed with a strangled scream, fucking into Dean’s throat helplessly, his blue eyes huge as he watched his Dom swallow his come enthusiastically.

When he was finished Dean slid back, wiping his mouth with a self-satisfied smirk. He stood, undoing his jeans and accepted an unwrapped condom from Sam as he moved behind Cas. Sliding the plug free, he handed it to his brother and then wrapped an arm around Cas’ chest, cradling him back against him.

As he pressed the head of his prick against his boy’s hole, Dean’s fingers found the collar again, and for a second he had to close his eyes at the purity intensity of his ownership of the other man.

Feeling Dean’s cock sink into him seemed to submerge Cas even deeper into his headspace. He went suddenly silent, utterly pliant, his body suspended between his raised arms, Dean’s hand on his chest playing idly with the clamps, and his other hand on Cas’ hip, drawing him gently back into each thrust of his dick inside him.

Dean’s lips roamed from his shoulder up the side of his throat, and he smiled when Cas tilted his head receptively to let him kiss and suck the damp skin both above and below the leather. Gently he bit down on Cas’ jaw, then licked the spot, just to enjoy feeling him shudder. Turning his head, Dean nibbled his earlobe lightly.

“You’re all mine, aren’t you, angel?” It was barely a whisper, a breath of words so hot and possessive and intent that Cas’ eyes flared open, sliding sideways to look at his master in awe. Yes, his gaze screamed, and he tried to reply, but it was soundless, just a breathless movement of his lips.

Dean smiled, tightening his hold, and fucked into Cas harder, loving the soft cries that were punched out of him as Dean reached his climax inside of him. He came hard, feeling the uniqueness of the way that Cas was hanging, totally limp and yet sustained by gravity.

“I definitely like this position,” he panted, and Sam merely chuckled in agreement.

When Dean withdrew, and turned to throw away the condom, Sam stepped forward and cupped Cas’ face, waiting until his eyes refocused on the younger Winchester before asking softly, “Are you ready to come down now, Cas?”

The dark-haired man let out a long, content sigh, then nodded, and Dean returned to help Sam undo the cuffs, letting Cas’ weight collapse onto his shoulders as he was freed. Slowly Dean carried him to the floor, cradling his smaller frame in his lap as Cas cuddled closer, his eyes fluttering shut.

Sam dismantled the equipment, then joined them, holding a bottle of water and one of orange juice. The brothers sat side by side, alternately stroking Cas’ skin and hair, and helping him to sip carefully at the drinks, easing him back from his subspace. Eventually his breathing calmed, and the intermittent shivering stopped.

Cas smiled sleepily, his arms loosely linked around Dean’s waist, and he turned to press a kiss to Sam’s palm as he stroked Cas’ cheek. “Thank you.”

They redressed quietly, the brothers easing Cas back into his jeans and shirt as he struggled to remain upright by himself. When Sam opened the door and stepped back into the black hallway, Cas sank gratefully back onto his hands and knees and crawled out after him, while Dean followed behind him.

They passed Meg as they headed toward the front entrance, and she grinned when she saw the blissed-out look on Cas’ face, as well as the red marks visible under his collar from Dean’s teeth. “I see you had fun, huh, boys?”

Cas grinned back at her, blushing beautifully, and Dean had to laugh, stroking his hair as Cas leaned sideways against him with a happy nod at the other submissive. Meg gave both brothers a respectful nod, eyes remaining downcast. Only Cas received eye contact, acknowledging their shared lower position. “Think you’ll visit again?”

Dean glanced down at Cas, who licked his lips and peeked shyly over at the stages, his gaze sharpening with interest. A chuckle slipped from Dean. “Oh, yeah.”

Once they had collected their shoes and jackets, Dean turned back to Cas, leaning down to gently unbuckle his collar. A small, sad noise escaped him as the leather came away, a frown creasing his forehead when Dean helped him to his feet.

Dean cupped a hand around his chin and kissed his lips tenderly, handing the collar back to Sam to put away in its box in the backpack. “It’s okay, angel. On your knees or on your feet, collar or not--you belong to us.”

Relief filled Cas’ eyes at the reassuring promise, and he smiled back, his face relaxing. He looked over at Sam, receiving his affirming nod and grin, and his shoulders lost some of their tension.

Slipping on his sandals, he followed the brothers out, his hand occasionally brushing against Dean’s as they walked back to the car.