Chapter Text
“It looks beautiful on you,” Sam said, and Dean blushed because even after all this time, he wasn’t used to Sam calling him ‘beautiful.’
For once, Dean wasn’t blindfolded. He wasn’t gagged, either- not really. He was holding a leather paddle between his teeth, but that was about it. He could drop it if he wanted to, but Sam had told him to hold it and he really really wanted to make tonight good for Sam.
Dean had given this decision totally over to his dom. When Sam had begun making vague, layered statements about preparations for ‘after the collaring,’ Dean had laughed and said it would be fine. He’d done it before.
Sam had kind of stammered for a few seconds and admitted that he hadn’t. With anyone. Like…. ever.
Apparently, he wasn’t interested in partners he didn’t love.
It took Dean a little while to sift through that, but once he had, he handed the decisions over to Sam and told him to be as thorough as he wanted.
And oh, had Sam been thorough.
About ten days before the collaring, he’d presented Dean with a box of five sleek, black plugs. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that they were gradated, but Sam explained the process to him anyway. Sam went through it all very clinically, though Dean didn’t miss the gleam in his eye when Sam said he expected Dean to remain plugged at all times, until the night of the ceremony.
Sam had inserted the first one himself, making Dean lie back on the bed and spread his legs so that his hole was exposed. Sam had lubed up the plug and slid it, very slowly, into Dean’s ass.
The head was long and narrow rather than round, and so when Dean stood up, he was able to move more-or-less normally.
The rest of the plugs Dean had to insert himself, on all fours with his knees spread so that the webcam could get a clear view of what was happening. Every two days, he’d slowly work the old plug out of himself, lay it to the side, and insert the larger one. The whole time, Sam would praise him and tell him how good he was doing, and Dean probably would have come untouched if it weren’t for the damn cage.
The cage was Sam’s other little idea.
He knew Dean was in the habit of going home and masturbating furiously to the thought of the things they’d done together. He hadn’t ever really minded- he probably still didn’t, except he wanted Dean horny out of his damn mind when the thing finally came off.
Dean had spent the last ten days with his cock and balls securely trussed up in a little metal cage, unable to harden while increasingly-large plugs rubbed at his prostate with every little movement.
So to say that Dean was ready to get fucked was a little bit of an understatement.
Sam, of course, had no such restrictions and had probably jerked off that morning thinking of how helpless and needy Dean was going to be, and Dean was… kinda fine with that.
He leaned back against the ladder, watching the look of concentration on Sam’s face as the dom wound the ropes around his chest, again and again.
Sam had started with his wrists fifteen minutes ago, binding them to a wooden rung high above Dean’s head. He’d practically mummified Dean’s arms in rope before moving to his chest.
The ladder was tipped back against the wall, and Dean could rest against it and let the ropes take his weight. The middle rungs were padded, because Sam was just thoughtful like that.
Sam finished binding his chest, tying the ropes off in a complicated pattern just above his belly button.
He dropped to his knees in front of Dean, looking over the cage. Aside from the collar and the plug, it was all Dean was wearing.
“Beautiful,” Sam repeated, lifting the metal cage in his palm. “Look at you, all soft and sweet for me.”
Dean groaned as he felt his cock trying to harden, only to meet with unforgiving metal. His breath began to come faster.
“I thought this might make you desperate, but I really had no idea,” Sam remarked, looking up at Dean’s face. “What do you think, should I let you come tonight, or should I fuck you caged?”
Dean groaned out a wordless negative, pushing his trapped cock uselessly against Sam’s hand. He could feel his pulse against the tight metal restraints.
Sam withdrew his hands, letting the heavy cage hang again. Instead, he began wrapping rope around Dean’s thigh.
Quickly and methodically, he bound Dean’s ankles to his thighs, drawing his feet up until it appeared that Dean was kneeling on thin air.
He drew out another long length of rope, using it to bind Dean’s knees to the rung just above his shoulders. The result was that Dean’s legs were both pulled up and spread wide. The position was rather self-explanatory and Dean began to shiver with excitement,
Sam stood, taking the paddle from Dean’s mouth and pressing a kiss to his sore jaw. He fastened the silk blindfold around Dean’s eyes.
“I think ten,” Sam said, stroking the paddle. Dean whined, but didn’t respond. Sam nodded. “Yeah, I think you can take ten for me.”
He drew the flat of the paddle against Dean’s thighs, nudging the head of the plug. Dean hissed.
“Would you like the gag, Dean? Or would you like to count for me?”
“I- I’d like to count, sir,” Dean stammered.
“Good. Here we go.”
The paddle landed across Dean’s thighs with a crack and for a moment, Dean saw white. The shock of it was so sudden that he almost forgot what he was supposed to be doing.
“One!” he gasped. Sam’s hand was warm against him, massaging the paddle mark. Dean whimpered.
Sam withdrew and the paddle landed again, across the meat of Dean’s ass, driving the plug deeper, and Dean felt tears rising in his eyes.
“Two,” he whimpered.
The paddle cracked across his skin again, striping his belly and lower thighs. Dean’s chest heaved, and his mind began to fill with the familiar static of subspace.
“Three,” he heard himself say.
Another came immediately, across his upper thighs. It glanced across his cock and Dean gasped, thankful for the cage which had mostly protected him.
“Four.”
The paddle touched him again, softly this time, the flat of it lifting and teasing his balls. Dean didn’t think Sam would hit him there, and his breath came ragged as he considered that he might be wrong.
“What’s your color, Dean?”
“Y- yellow, sir.”
“Good.”
The paddle landed across his chest, the blow slightly lessened by the rope, and Dean let out a sob.
“Five!”
Six came just below it, expertly landing across both his nipples, and Dean could feel tears running down his face.
“Six,” he whimpered. “Thank you, master.”
Sam hesitated for a moment, and then he was kissing Dean’s mouth again, hard and deep, his hands running over the sub’s helpless body.
“You are too perfect for words,” Sam whispered, kissing the salt off Dean’s lips. His fingers traced the edge of the collar, still snug around Dean’s throat.
“Four more, are you ready?”
“Yes, master,” Dean answered, and he counted off as Sam laid them in perfectly-overlapping lines down the length of his belly.
“You were so good,” Sam murmured, returning to his knees between Dean’s legs. Dean hoped momentarily that he was going to unlock the cage, but no such luck. Instead, Sam began pressing kisses to the insides of his thighs, the seam of his groin-
Dean groaned as Sam’s mouth closed over the head of his caged cock, his tongue darting through holes in the middle to tease the trapped flesh with hot little swipes.
The cage became unbearably tight as his cock struggled to harden and couldn’t.
Sam went lower, his tongue running over Dean’s balls. With two fingers, he reached back to tug lightly at the plug.
“Have you been wearing this like I told you to?” He asked.
“Yes, master,” Dean gasped- it was true. He’d only taken it out to use the bathroom and to… well to clean up for this particular adventure. But Sam didn’t need those details.
“Good,” Sam said, and with absolutely glacial slowness he began to withdraw the plug from Dean’s body. Dean whined, struggling to relax and let the toy ease out of him. All he could think of was what was going to replace it, how hot and hard and thick Sam’s cock would be, how it would feel to have that muscular body pressed against his, and god he hoped Sam would take the cage off.
The toy slid free of his body, and Sam set it on the ground with a light thunk.
His tongue darted through the bars of the cage again, and Dean writhed helplessly against the ropes.
“Would you like me to take this off you, now?” Sam asked.
“Yes,” Dean begged. “Yes, please Master, please take the cage off.”
“You don’t want to stay in it while I fuck you? I bet I could make you come soft.”
“Please no. Please. I want to show you how hard it makes me when you fuck me. Please, master.”
“You make a good point,” Sam conceded, and Dean almost sobbed with relief when he heard the little padlock click open.
“Thank you, thank you master, tha-”
Dean’s words caught in his throat when Sam’s mouth closed over his cock again, bringing him fully hard in about three seconds.
And then he was gone.
Dean waited, panting, hanging from his bindings, exposed and achingly hard. Sam was doing something, but it was too quiet for Dean to hear.
Undressing, his mind supplied, and it was only a few seconds after that before Dean felt Sam come closer again.
Dean was already loose and wet from the plug, but he still gasped when Sam drove all the way inside him in one thrust.
This time it was Sam making little whimpers, breath unsteady as he plunged into Dean’s willing body. His mouth closed over Dean’s throat, sucking at the salt of his skin, and his fingers tightened around Dean’s hips, and Dean realized he was already close.
Poor guy probably had a triple-thick condom on, but Dean’s ass was a gift from heaven and he knew how to use it.
Dean tightened down on him, groaning as the head of Sam’s cock slid across his prostate. Sam reached between them, his fingers slick as he jerked Dean’s dick.
He was trying to get Dean off before he gave out, and Dean figured what the hell, it’s his first time, and let him have it.
The sound Sam made was worth it, like a cross between a gasp and a sob as Dean’s come spilled over his fist, slicking his way and getting both of them absolutely filthy.
A few seconds later, Sam was coming too, his hips slamming against Dean’s ass like he was trying to climb in, dick-first.
Sam couldn’t move for a couple seconds, he just stood there, half-leaning against Dean, letting the ladder take both of their weight. Dean thought maybe he was going to say something, but he didn’t, just leaned up and lifted the blindfold.
“Hey,” Dean said, blinking at him through the glare.
“Hey,” Sam answered, and leaned in for a kiss.