Structured Clutter: Part 2 - SPN
Jun. 19th, 2016 02:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mayalaenPart 2
Dean had been worried that weekends would be spent at the office too, but Saturday morning found Cas busy at his desk in the upstairs office, stacks of books everywhere, papers strewn about on the floor, and filing cabinets open.
It was a complete mess, but now that Dean was looking, it was a completely different mess than the other day. Whatever system Cas had, it was of his own making, and he watched as Cas moved around the room confidently, grabbing books without even looking at them, shuffling papers, and making notes.
"Sir?" Dean said.
"Yah!" Cas yelped as he spun around.
"Sorry," Dean said, wincing.
"Oh, Dean, hi," Cas said.
"I was just checking to see if you'd like me to bring you some breakfast," Dean said.
"Um, well," Cas said, frowning down at his book. When he met Dean's eyes again, there was a tinge to his cheeks. "I really liked the eggs you made the other day. Would you mind making those again?"
"Dad taught me how to make eggs," he said, smiling. "You want anything besides the eggs?"
"Toast," Cas said. "With strawberry jam. And some orange juice."
"Okay," Dean said with a nod, "I'll bring it up in a few minutes."
"Thank you," Cas said, already flipping through the book again.
*
Dean didn't see Cas much the rest of the day, so when it came time for dinner, Dean made his way upstairs to see if Cas wanted to eat again.
"Sir?" he said, but then he saw a mess of hair on the desk. He walked in, quietly making his way to the desk and smiled when he saw Cas had fallen asleep, face smashed against his left arm.
Dean looked around for a pillow or blanket, but didn't see any, so he went to Cas' room and grabbed the throw from Cas' overstuffed chair. He draped it over Cas' shoulders, then left him alone.
*
The next morning Dean showered and headed downstairs to start breakfast, but Cas was already in his suit and tie, briefcase in hand.
"Let's get breakfast on the way," Cas said. "Go upstairs and change into your clothes for daycare. You pick where we eat."
Dean froze. He thought things had been going well. Cas hadn't seemed upset by anything in days, even though Dean had still been sent to daycare. Did he do something else? What the fuck had he done?
"Sir?" Dean said, his chest getting tight.
"Yes?" Cas said, setting his briefcase on the kitchen counter.
"I...," Dean started, but couldn't figure out what to say.
His eyes were burning and his throat was closing. His stomach suddenly felt so fluttery he was worried he might throw up. He couldn't take another week of daycare.
"I'm sorry," Dean said, his bottom lip quivering and a tear making its way down his right cheek. "I'm really sorry I screwed up last week, but I promise I won't do it again," he said, wiping at his face.
Cas turned to him, his eyes widening as he took Dean in. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"I don't know," Dean said, shaking his head. "I don't know what I did wrong, but I'm sorry. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it. If I'm doing something wrong, just please tell me. I'll stop. Anything," he said, sniffling.
"You're not doing anything wrong," Cas said, holding his hands out to his sides as if he had no clue what was going on.
Dean let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a humorless chuckle. "I must be doing something wrong. It's okay. You can tell me."
Cas frowned at him, his head tilted to the side. "Why do you think you're doing something wrong?"
"I know you sent me to daycare all last week because I reorganized your office without permission," Dean said, blurting it out so fast he wasn't even sure if Cas would understand his words. "But I don't know what I did this week, or I don't know, maybe I'm still in trouble for messing with your office and closet, but I promise I'll never do it again. I'm sorry. Please don't send me back!"
Cas opened his mouth, tilted his head the other way, then closed his mouth. The frown deepened. "You don't like going to daycare?" he asked, nothing but confusion in his tone of voice.
Dean felt like the biggest asshole ever. He had no idea what Cas was going to do to him now. He should've never brought it up. "I'm sorry. It's a nice place. Yes, I like it." He was a slave. He had no say where he went. He should've been happy he wasn't being sold off to another family.
"People normally don't cry and beg not to be taken somewhere when they like the place they're going," Cas said, obviously trying to figure him out.
Dean shook his head. "I'm sorry. I never should've said anything. I'll go get ready. I'm sorry," he said and started for the stairs.
Cas reached out and grabbed Dean's left forearm. "Stop," he said, and Dean obeyed. "Tell me why you don't like it. And don't beat around the bush. I don't like trying to figure people out. I suck at it."
Dean wiped more tears from his face and took a deep breath to calm himself down. "The caretakers are great, the place is clean and very nice," Dean said.
"But...," Cas prompted.
"But I've already had five days of correction," Dean said, wincing because he couldn't refuse to answer, but he knew Cas wouldn't like the answer. "And I don't know what I'm doing to earn all of it."
"What do you mean correction?" Cas said.
Dean felt himself blush, but Chuck had always asked about his punishments at the house, so he should've been used to it by now. "The first day it was a paddling, the second and third day I was caned...," he started, but stopped when Cas sputtered.
"What?!" Cas said, letting go of Dean's arm and stepping back. "What are you talking about?"
Dean's eyes widened. "Did you want them to do something else? They told me you hadn't given any instructions, so they just used the implements they were used to."
"No!" Cas said, shaking his head, holding his hands up. "Wait a minute! Just wait a minute! I sent you to daycare, not a courthouse!"
Dean had no idea what to say to that, so he just kinda stood there and stared at Cas. Why was the man so upset?
"I didn't tell them to punish you!" Cas said, his voice getting louder. "Why would they do that?!"
Dean looked at Cas, at his Master, as if he'd grown another head. "That's what daycare centers are for," he said, face screwing up in confusion.
Cas ran his fingers through his hair, making it look even more disheveled than before. "No! Daycare centers are to care for you during the day! That's why it's called a daycare!"
"Oh, fuck," Dean breathed, jaw dropping.
"Are you telling me that's not what a daycare center is for?!" Cas said, arms out to the side again.
Dean shook his head. "They're for correction. When your slave isn't behaving as they should and you don't have time or patience to deal with them, you send them there for a day to correct them."
"A day? As in one day?!" Cas said, eyes getting impossibly wider.
Dean nodded. "Yeah, that's all it usually takes. I've never been to one before, but that's what I've heard."
"Oh, my God," Cas said, rubbing his hands over his face. "I sent you to a correctional facility for five fucking days!" he moaned into his hands.
Dean's head felt like it was going to spin off his neck. "You didn't know that's what they were for," he said, mostly to himself, because any minute it was going to sink in, but it hadn't yet. He'd spent five days getting his ass beat for nothing. Oh, there, yes, it had set in.
"Dean, I'm so sorry," Cas said, shaking his head, a stricken expression on his face. He growled as he slammed his hand down on the counter. "I told Chuck I didn't want a slave. I can't do this! I have no idea what to do with you! And I've just spent the last five days dropping you off at a correctional facility thinking you were spending the day doing arts and crafts or reading or playing board games!"
Dean didn't know what to say. He was relieved. It was a huge relief to know that Cas hadn't been pissed with him the whole week. Sure, it was horrible having gotten his ass beat for five days, but the reason he'd started crying had been because he'd been under the impression this was going to be a regular thing. Cas' reaction shot that idea right out of the water.
"Let me see," Cas said, taking another step back.
"Huh?" Dean said.
"I want to see what they did to you," Cas said, voice cold.
Dean nodded. "Yes, sir," he said, responding to the order. He turned around and dropped his jeans and underwear just enough to show his ass, wincing when the material scraped over his sore skin.
"Come with me," Cas said, grabbing Dean's left wrist and pulling.
Dean held onto his jeans and underwear with his right hand as Cas pulled him upstairs and into the master bedroom, then into the master bathroom.
"Are you allergic anything?" Cas asked as he opened up his medicine cabinet.
"No, sir," Dean said, confused as to what was going on.
"This is going to sting when I first put it on," Cas said as he pulled a small tube out of the medicine cabinet. "It's a formula I came up with a few years ago and have been pushing to get it on the market, but it's being held back by money hungry pharmaceutical companies. It'll heal your skin five times faster than anything else on the market right now."
"Um, okay," Dean said, shrugging.
"Bend over," he said, gesturing toward the sink.
Dean did as he was told, letting go of his jeans and underwear. Cas opened the tube and squirted some of the gel onto his fingers, then put the tube on the counter. He rested his left hand on Dean's back.
"This is going to burn a lot," Cas said, "but I promise it's not damaging you."
"Okay," Dean said, then closed his eyes as Cas rubbed the cool gel into his heated skin. He hissed as the gel started to burn. "Oh, fuck, you weren't kidding," he said, squirming.
"Let it dry," Cas said as he patted Dean's back.
Dean stood up straight, eyes watering as the burn intensified. "Ah, fuck, Cas, it really fuckin' hurts," he groaned as he reached around behind himself.
"Don't touch!" Cas said.
"Fuck," Dean whimpered, holding his hands out to his sides so he wasn't tempted to touch. "When does it stop? Fuck, Cas, when does it stop?"
Cas put the tube back into the medicine cabinet and turned around, a concerned look on his face. "About twenty more seconds."
"Ow," Dean whined, his hands balled into fists. "Oh, yeah," he moaned as the burn finally subsided. "Oh, that's so much better."
Cas smiled. It was the first time Dean had seen him really smile. "It works, doesn't it," he said instead of asked, proud of himself.
Dean chuckled. "If I still have an ass left after that, then yes, it works because it doesn't hurt at all."
"You're fine," Cas said, smirking.
Dean wiped the remaining tears from his face and chuckled again. "You might wanna think about adding some lidocaine to that gel," he said.
Cas' eyes widened. "Oh! I hadn't even thought of that!" he said, then ran from the room. Actually ran.
Dean stood there for a moment, blinking, then he snorted and pulled his jeans and underwear up. The material touching his skin didn't hurt at all. In fact, he couldn't feel anything against his ass. He made his way to Cas' office, expecting him to be furiously making notes, and he wasn't disappointed.
"I take it you liked my idea?" Dean asked.
"Lidocaine won't work," Cas said, glancing up at him, "but I had been so focused on healing the skin and stopping the pain from the injury that I hadn't even considered adding something to ease the initial pain of the gel working on the skin."
Dean chuckled. Cas looked genuinely excited. And it was because Dean helped him with a breakthrough, he'd done some good.
"So does this mean I don't have to go to daycare today?" Dean asked with a smirk.
"Oh!" Cas said, dropping the book on the floor and stumbling over to Dean, the books already on the floor making his way difficult. He took hold of Dean's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "I swear to you I didn't know that's what daycare was for. If I would've known, I never would've sent you."
Dean nodded, smiling. "I kinda got that when you freaked out downstairs," he said.
"I'm new to this," Cas said, his cheeks turning pink. "I'm not good with people. Which you've already gathered. But I also really don't like the idea of someone depending on me, especially when something like this could happen because of an oversight on my part."
Dean nodded. "I get ya. But Chuck seems to think I should stay here."
Cas grimaced. "Chuck needs to mind his own business," he said petulantly.
Dean chuckled. "And other than getting sent to daycare, I've enjoyed living here. You've got a really nice place, you eat anything I make you, and the few times I've been able to get your attention, you've been nice to me."
Cas blushed again, suddenly realizing his hands were still on Dean's shoulders and dropping them to his sides. "I really like what you did with my closet," he said.
"Seriously?" Dean said.
Cas nodded. "And I noticed you cleaned out my fridge."
Dean snorted. "You had some food in there that was older than this house."
Cas smiled, then he sobered a bit. "I'm really sorry about the whole daycare situation."
"It's okay," Dean said. "You didn't know. And please don't fire the people that work there. They were only doing their jobs."
"They won't be fired," Cas said. "But the daycare will be getting a makeover. It's going to be re-purposed into what I thought it was all these years."
Dean chuckled. "Like a daycare daycare?"
"Yes," Cas said. "I know the place slaves have in society, and I know it can't be changed overnight, but the idea of a correctional facility being run right inside my building is unacceptable. And if I send you there, I want it to be a place where you can do something positive as an alternative to being stuck in the house all day."
"That sounds like a great idea," Dean said with a nod.
"So I have no idea what to do with you," Cas said, throwing his hands up in the air. Dean laughed. "I'm open to suggestions and I want you to be honest with me. Chuck has always spoken very highly of you, and I want you to be happy here."
"Well," Dean said, trying to imagine himself in Cas' place, having never owned a slave, not really any clue as to what they did, "I can do your grocery shopping, you already know I cook and clean, and you've got a laundry room downstairs I could use."
Cas frowned. "But then you'd just be a...," he started, then made a noise of disgust. "No, I want to know what you want to do. I've hired people to cook and clean and do my grocery shopping. I pay them well."
"I'm a slave," Dean said, shrugging. "There's nothing you can do to stop that right now."
Cas let out a humorless laugh. "That doesn't mean I have to treat my slave like dirt. If you're mine, I can do whatever I want with you. And I want you to enjoy your life."
"I do," Dean said. "I know I'm a good cook, and I get a kick out of people looking forward to what I'm gonna make next. I like that my owners can leave the house a mess, but then come home from a hard day at work to a clean house."
"Okay," Cas said, holding his hands out to his sides. "We're getting nowhere with this, and it's only frustrating me."
"Sorry," Dean said, wincing.
"No, don't be sorry," Cas said, then sighed, shoulders dropping. "I'm sure Chuck has told you I'm not good with people. And you've seen that in your first week here. I can't think of what to say to you. I can't figure out how to get what I want the way most people do. My brain doesn't work that way."
Dean shrugged. "So do it the way you normally do. You're a successful guy, so you're doing something right."
Cas scrunched up his nose. "It's only because people depend on and want what I can give them, not because I'm charming and tactful."
"You're an inventor and a genius," Dean said. "Invent a way to do what you want with me."
Cas frowned again, but Dean could see the wheels turning already. And Dean could also immediately see when Cas figured it out.
"Go downstairs and cook your favorite meal," Cas said. "If the ingredients aren't here, go out and get them."
"My favorite meal is-"
"No!" Cas said, holding up his hands and waving them in Dean's face. "Don't tell me what it is."
"But what if you don't like it?" Dean asked, a ball of anxiety growing in his stomach.
"I'm not a picky eater," Cas said, shrugging.
"Yes, you are," Dean said, not too sure if he could disagree with his master, but figuring it was okay.
"Pretend I'm not," Cas said, a little tug at the left corner of his mouth that almost seemed like a smile wanting to come out. "Pretend I'm going to love whatever it is you love. Make it, then come back up here and pick out a book to read until it's dinner time."
"Which ones can I pick from?" Dean asked, glancing around the room.
"Any of them," Cas said, tossing his hands out to his sides. "Even if they're on my desk, the floor, or in my bedroom."
"Yes, sir," Dean said.
"And call me Cas, not sir," Cas said.
"Yes, Cas."
Cas sighed, frustrated. "No," he said, shaking his head. "Don't be so formal. Say 'okay' or 'sure' or, I don't know, 'fuck you, I don't wanna do that.'"
Dean tried not to smile, but Cas was adorable when he was frustrated. "Okay," he said. "When do you want me to start dinner?"
"Anytime you want," Cas said, then turned and picked his book up off the floor.
Chuck had given Dean a lot of wiggle room in his house, but Dean had grown up there, he knew what was expected of him, knew what Chuck liked and didn't like, so his freedoms in the house weren't scary, uncharted territory. This was an unknown. Even though Cas had told him to do whatever he wanted, it was a little worrying. He wanted something to go on. Some kind of order or even an inkling of what Cas would like.
Cas was already settling behind the desk, spreading books out in front of him, and it was clear that he was so engrossed in his reading that he'd forgotten Dean was still in the room.
Dean stood there for a moment, his stomach churning, his ass comfortably numb for the first time in days as he nervously played with the hem of his shirt.
And then it came to him. The files that Ellen had let him look through. No, they didn't have Cas' favorite foods in there, but he did know that Cas had gone through five grocery handlers in the last thirteen months, and that the latest one was good at his job, had many good reviews in his references about the fact that he got exactly what his clients wanted, never substituting requests, which meant everything in Cas' cupboards right now was exactly what Cas wanted.
Dean headed downstairs, steps purposeful and feeling more confident than he had since he got to Cas' house.
*
Dean had chosen a book at random, and it was boring the Hell out of him. Cas would probably let him choose another book, but he didn't want to annoy the man. Cas had a pile of books on the right edge of his desk, another pile on the floor to the left that he'd tripped over about five separate times, and somewhere around ten books strewn about the top of his desk.
"Hah!" Cas blurted about an hour and a half after Dean had started dinner.
Dean startled so badly he nearly fell off the couch. Cas had been muttering the whole time, shuffling about, shoving books around, but he hadn't made a loud noise since Dean had gone downstairs. He looked up at Cas, but smiled when he realized Cas had found his breakthrough and was typing furiously on his laptop, a half-smirk on his face that said Cas was very happy about whatever he'd figured out.
After checking the clock, Dean set his really boring book down on the couch and went downstairs. Dinner should've almost been ready, and Dean started in on a salad, complete with carrot shavings, celery chunks, grated cheese, tomatoes, and croutons he'd baked in the oven after finding a loaf of bread in the breadbox that was just a little too old to be used as a sandwich.
He mixed his own vinaigrette and dished up the salad, baked chicken, herb potatoes, and the broccoli he'd steamed. He shoved a beer into each of his pockets, then headed upstairs with a plate in each hand.
"Dinner," Dean said as he walked into the office.
Cas looked up, smiled, then cleared some space on his desk. "Sit with me at the desk," he said, gesturing to the spot he'd cleared across from him.
"Okay," Dean said, setting the plates down and grabbing the stool from next to a bookcase on his right. He sat down and looked up at Cas, freezing when he saw the frown. "Something wrong?" he asked.
Cas pointed at his own plate. "This is one of my favorite meals, not yours."
"I like baked chicken," Dean said, shrugging.
"But you don't like salads," Cas said, pointing at the offending food, "and herb potatoes aren't on your list of favorite foods."
Dean let out a huff of laughter. "I don't have a list of favorite foods."
Cas sighed. "You're good at obeying your masters, so I'm going to say this once, and I really don't want to repeat myself."
"Okay," Dean said, nodding.
"Do not lie to me," Cas said.
"I...," Dean started, but couldn't finish. Because it really wasn't his favorite meal. Everything had been what he knew Cas liked.
"It's hard enough for me to figure people out," Cas said, "and when they lie, it makes things so much more difficult for me."
"Sorry," Dean said, running his finger over the design on his fork.
"I emailed a few requests to Chuck's staff," Cas said, nodding toward his laptop, "and Missouri sent me a list of your favorites."
Dean felt his face flush. "Oh."
"I don't want to treat you like a slave," Cas said. "I don't agree with slavery, I want it to have never existed, but that doesn't mean I have a problem with you. I want you to be happy."
Dean nodded. "Okay."
"After emailing your mother and Missouri, and after speaking with Chuck, I've decided on a plan of action for you," Cas said, straightening up in his chair.
Dean really wanted to know what everyone had said about him. He knew it wasn't anything bad. He really had been a good slave and there had been very few complaints over the years. Those few complaints had been from people who thought slaves should be seen and not heard, and Chuck didn't want that, so really it wasn't Dean's fault anyway.
"If I ask you to cook a meal that is nothing but your favorites," Cas said, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the desk, "then I want you to do that. Don't second guess me, don't cook what you think I want, and don't lie to me about it."
"Okay," Dean said, nodding.
"Everyone I contacted said spanking works very well for you," Cas said.
Dean's eyes widened. "Uhm, yeah. It does," he admitted, his face flushing again.
Cas nodded. "A lie will earn you a spanking. And I consider obfuscation a lie."
Dean squirmed on the stool. "Okay," he said, nodding.
"I'm not going to spank you this time," Cas said, "because I hadn't made the rules clear. Are they clear now?"
"Yes, si-Cas. Yes, Cas," he said.
"Thank you for making a meal for us," Cas said with a small smile. "I would've liked to enjoy a meal with you that were your favorites, but I appreciate the effort, and it smells delicious."
"Thanks," Dean said, waiting for Cas to start in his food before starting in on his own. "I'm sorry, Cas."
Cas shook his head. "You've already apologized. I consider it forgiven. We'll move on from here."
"Okay," Dean said, relieved. "Thanks."
"I can't change what you are," Cas said, his voice softer than Dean had ever heard it. "I wish I could, and I wish you were just a houseguest here, someone that enjoyed living with me, someone who raided the kitchen to get a snack for themselves and didn't care if I was fed or not, someone who left wet towels on the bathroom floor and wasn't scared they'd be sold off for doing it. But I can't change the way the world works yet, and I don't know how to change the way you feel about it."
"Chuck was a casual owner, not a traditionalist," Dean said. "You know that. He allowed all of us more freedoms than most people are comfortable with, but I'm still a slave. I'm still here to serve you."
"No, you're not," Cas said. "Chuck may have sent you here, but being my slave wasn't his intention and it isn't mine. Once you realize that, I hope you'll be happier here."
"I am happy," Dean said as he munched on a chunk of potato. "Your house is really nice, you've been really nice to me, and I can see that you aren't like most slave owners."
"I know it's ingrained in you," Cas said, "but I'm serious about the lying."
"I didn't li-"
"You're not happy here," Cas said. "I'm not very good at reading people, but you've been taken away from your family, the house you grew up in, the owner you loved and adored, and you've spent the last week being punished in a correctional facility only to come home every night to an owner you can't figure out."
"Let me rephrase it," Dean said. "I'm not unhappy."
"Okay," Cas said, nodding.
"I don't know where I stand with you," Dean admitted. "And I'm the type of guy who likes to know his boundaries. I need to know what's expected of me, and when I can perform, I feel right, I feel like I belong."
Cas frowned, staring off into the distance for a moment. Dean nearly laughed, because it was the same expression he'd had on his face when he'd been thinking about the formula he'd put on Dean's ass. Within just a few seconds, Cas had his solution, and his eyes brightened.
"For every task you do for me, you must do something you want to do," Cas said triumphantly.
Dean chuckled. "Okay."
"That way you'll feel that sense of accomplishment and you'll feel as if you've earned the right to do something you like doing," Cas said, pleased with his plan.
"Sounds good to me," Dean said, nodding.
"You've already done something for me," Cas said, gesturing toward his plate, "so once we're done with dinner, you're going to do one thing you want to do. And it can't be for me, even if it's what you want to do. Understood?"
Dean winced. "Yes."
"It'll be hard at first," Cas said, "but humans adapt quickly, and you're a smart man."
Dean huffed out a laugh. "Who told you that?" he said, shaking his head. "I'm not smart."
Cas smirked. "I won't consider that a lie because you really believe it, but I don't tolerate idiots, and I'm more than happy to have you in my home, which means you're not just of average intelligence. Otherwise I'd be bored and agitated around you."
Dean smiled, because it was just such an odd thing to say, but at the same time Dean got it now that he'd been in Cas' house for a few days. He saw that Cas just couldn't handle ignorance or things that didn't make sense. In his own way, Cas was complimenting him. It felt good.
"Once you're done doing the thing you want to do," Cas said, shoving the skin of his chicken to the edge of his plate, "I want you to order some clothing online. You may use my laptop. No less than five complete outfits and two pairs of shoes. All of which will be what you want to wear, not what you think I want you to wear."
"What about when I leave the house?" Dean asked, thinking of all the times he'd been given strange looks from slave owners simply because he'd been out on his own, and if he'd been walking around in jeans and a T-shirt, it would've been worse.
"No one has to know you're a slave outside the house," Cas said, shrugging. "You've been a fairly independent person under Chuck, and if you walk around in clothing you want to wear, using your own cash and credit cards with your name on them, the only way someone will figure it out is if they ask for your ID."
"I don't know, Cas," Dean said, wincing.
"It's not illegal," Cas said. "There are plenty of slave owners who don't have the time to micromanage their slaves, especially wealthy slave owners. The slaves are given credit cards, cash, and some of them even are assigned vehicles for their own use."
"I don't want you to get in trouble," Dean said.
"Let me worry about that," Cas said. "Your behavior has been outstanding, according to Chuck, and I'm not worried in the least that you'll cause trouble for me. If you do, I have the money, resources, lawyers, and tenacity to get the both of us out of whatever you get us into. Most of the time I end up getting the better end of the deal anyway, so if anyone realizes who owns you, they'll most likely figure it's better to never fight me on it in the first place."
Dean chuckled. "You seem pretty sure of yourself."
Cas shrugged. "I am."
"Okay," Dean said, nodding. "Can I ask something?"
"Yes," Cas said, giving him his full attention.
"Is there anything you don't want me to do?" Dean asked.
"Ah, yes," Cas said, nodding. "You need boundaries to feel comfortable."
"Yeah," Dean said, smiling.
"Inform me before you make purchases of more than one thousand US dollars, inform me of any damages to personal or public property should anything happen," Cas said, ticking each item off on a finger, "stand up for yourself whenever anyone, including me, does or says something you're not comfortable with or violates your state-given rights and the rights given to you by me, tell me the truth, tell me if you want or need something, and enjoy your life here."
"Is that all?" Dean asked, smirking.
"Yes," Cas said, nodding as if he didn't realize Dean had been joking. And he probably didn't.
"One more question," Dean said.
"Okay."
"What rules do you have for me when it comes to sex?" Dean asked.
Cas sat there, staring at Dean as if the thought had never occurred to him before. "Oh, uhm, well, you can have it," he said, nodding.
Dean snorted with laughter, then sobered when he saw the confused look on Cas' face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed. I meant how do you want me to serve you sexually."
Cas' face scrunched up into a look of disgust. "I don't!"
"Oh," Dean said, sitting back a little because Cas just looked so upset that Dean wished he hadn't said anything about it.
"I'm sorry," Cas said, waving his fork at Dean. "I'm not upset with you. I don't agree with slavery anyway, and I try not to think about the fact that owners have the right to sexual favors from their slaves."
"Oh, well, if you don't want me to mention it ever again, I won't," Dean said, shrugging.
"No, I...," Cas started, then shook his head. "You can have sex with anyone you want to have sex with, although I'd suggest you don't advertise that fact or you'll anger some slave owners. Again, if anyone has a problem with you, I'll fix it with no consequences for you unless you break a law or any of the rules I've given you."
"Okay, but what about you?" Dean asked.
Cas scrunched his nose up. It was adorable. "I don't like sex," he said, shaking his head. "It's messy and people like to play mind games. I don't like that."
Dean smiled. "Well, part of owning a sla-"
"No!" Cas said, shaking his head. "I'm not going to be using you."
Dean chuckled. "You didn't let me finish. Calm down," he said, holding his hands up in surrender.
"I'm sorry. Go ahead," Cas said, nodding at Dean.
"I really like sex," Dean said. "I'll take it almost any way I can get it, I don't play mind games, and you're kinda hot with this whole professor, genius, mysterious, rich dude vibe, so it wouldn't be a hardship on my part."
"I can take care of myself," Cas said, "but thank you for the offer."
Dean couldn't stop grinning as he finished up his potatoes. Cas was flushed and stabbing at his chicken like it had offended him. "Hey, what if sex is one of the things I want after I've done something for you?"
Cas glared at him. "I can order you a prostitute if you want."
Dean hid his smile behind the bottle of beer. He didn't think he'd ever heard someone say they were going to 'order' a prostitute. It sounded adorable coming from Cas.
"No, I've never needed to pay for sex," Dean said, shrugging. "A few people have offered to pay me."
Cas choked on his beer.
*
Dean wanted to wash the dishes and clean the kitchen. He really wanted to. But he'd been told to do something that wasn't for Cas. But cleaning up the kitchen would make Dean's job easier next time he had to cook, so really it wasn't just for Cas. Right?
"This sucks," Dean grumbled as he stood in the kitchen, holding a bottle of dish soap. "Can't just fuckin' tell me what to do."
He looked around the kitchen, searching for something he could do that would seem like it was just for him, and then he nearly kicked himself when he realized he could just clean the fucking kitchen and worry about the rest later. Cas was so busy, so interested in his research that he probably wouldn't even ask.
Twenty minutes later the kitchen was spotless, and since it was getting late, Dean decided to do a quick visual check of the house, then see if Cas needed anything before he went to bed.
Cas was still at his desk, and Dean wondered if the man's ass was sore from sitting there so long.
"You need anything before I go to bed?" Dean asked as he walked up to the desk.
Cas looked up at him, blinking, dazed for a moment as he pulled himself out of his own head. "Ah, no. I'm fine for tonight. Thank you."
"Okay, well I'm headed to bed," Dean said. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Goodnight," Cas said, smiling before he started typing again on his laptop.
"Goodnight," Dean said, then turned around.
"Oh, what did you do for yourself after you made me dinner?" Cas asked just as Dean got to the doorway.
"I watched some TV," Dean said, turning to look at Cas.
"The one in the living room?" Cas asked.
"That's the one," Dean said, thinking himself very quick on his feet for having noticed the TV downstairs and pulling that idea out of his ass.
"The one that's not hooked up to anything?" Cas asked.
Dean realized he'd been too quick on congratulating himself for a lie well-told. "Uhm, yeah, I didn't," he said, wincing and reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "I cleaned the kitchen. I didn't watch TV."
Cas closed his laptop and stood up, stretching. Dean caught a glimpse of the man's lower stomach as he raised his arms above his head. Cas finished his long stretch, then headed for Dean. "Come with me," he said as he took Dean by the hand and led him down the hallway toward the master bedroom.
"Cas, I'm sorry," Dean said. He wasn't trying to get out of punishment. He felt bad. Cas was trying to give him freedoms, but Dean wanted something different.
Cas pulled him into his bedroom, then let go of him, walking to a smaller linen closet that Dean hadn't gotten into because it had been locked. Cas opened it with a key from his pocket and Dean nearly pissed his pants.
"Oh, shit," he hissed as he caught a good view of more BDSM equipment than he'd ever seen shoved into such a small space.
It was organized, a place for everything, and there was a good variety of stuff. Cas pulled a small paddle out and shut the door before Dean could categorize everything, but in that time he saw a ball gag, a hood, three different-sized floggers, padded cuffs, and a long length of rope.
Cas turned around, a determined expression on his face. Dean's brain finally registered the paddle in Cas' right hand after the shock of seeing all that equipment. It was oval-shaped, no thicker than a hairbrush, and about six inches long, not including the handle.
"Get on the bed, face down and near the edge," Cas said, using the paddle to point at the bed. "Push your pants and underwear down to your knees."
Dean got into position, no hesitation. He wanted to be good for Cas, and he knew he'd fucked up.
"I'm spanking you because you lied," Cas said, "not because you cleaned the kitchen or couldn't figure out what to do with your free time."
Dean crossed his arms and used them as a pillow, pushing his face into them. "Sorry, Cas," he said, not quite sure how Cas knew Dean couldn't even figure out what to do instead of just assuming he'd shrugged it off.
He had no idea what was going to happen. The healing gel Cas had put on was still making his ass numb, and he didn't think he'd feel anything Cas did to his ass.
The first strike had Dean clenching his ass cheeks, but it had come down on his right thigh, not his ass. Cas knew what he was doing, that much was obvious. The pain was spread evenly, which meant Cas had good aim, and it hurt without being severe enough to break the skin.
"I like figuring things out, but people are difficult for me," Cas said, then hit him again. "And I don't mind if it takes you time to acclimate yourself here. If this is what you need, then I'll give it to you."
Dean wanted to say he didn't need it, that he just needed clear orders and boundaries, but as the next strike landed on his opposite thigh, he realized that no, he already knew his boundaries because Cas had told him, and he also knew what he was supposed to do. He just hadn't wanted to work at it because it was for himself.
"If you're having difficulty figuring things out," Cas said, landing another strike, "you can come to me any time, day or night, but do not lie to me."
Dean squirmed as the pain intensified, Cas letting him know that he really didn't like lying by giving him five hard strikes right in a row on alternating thighs. Tears welled up in his eyes. They always did when he was disciplined. He didn't like it, didn't like disappointing people, and he knew he'd disappointed Cas.
"I may not be easy to get along with," Cas said, "but if you help me figure you out, the both of us will be much happier."
Dean grabbed onto the blanket beneath him, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to keep still. It didn't hurt as much as when Crowley or Ellen had disciplined him, but Dean suspected that was because Cas was using this as a warning, not a flat out punishment. Dean had had worse, but a few tears still spilled down his cheeks.
The spanking stopped, and Dean flinched as Cas put a hand on his back, started gently rubbing. A few more tears ran down his cheeks because it just felt so good. The only times in his life he'd been spanked without being held or touched afterward had been at the daycare center, and it was a relief to know Cas was more like Chuck than he was Crowley.
"It frustrates me when I deal with something and it happens again," Cas said, but his voice wasn't harsh and the hand on Dean's back kept moving. "Please don't lie to me. And please remember that I consider you forgiven, that we can move on from here."
"Okay," Dean said, wiping his face with his forearms. It really hadn't hurt that badly. Most of the tears were because he felt so emotionally raw and because he'd disappointed Cas.
"That means no more saying you're sorry for this," Cas said, "and no scurrying around as if I'm upset with you. We got off to a bad start with a full week of correction for you, but please remember I would never have done that to you, and if it's within my power, that will never happen to you again."
Dean appreciated the promise Cas could really keep. The reality of the situation was that if someone took him away from Cas somehow, they could send him to a correctional facility for discipline. Dean liked that Cas didn't make the promise that he'd never experience it again. That would've been an empty promise.
"Thanks, Cas," Dean said, voice a little hoarse with emotion.
"Are you tired?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna go to bed, if that's okay with you," he said, staying in position because Cas hadn't told him he could move yet.
"You're sleeping in here," Cas said.
Dean looked at him over his shoulder. "Huh?"
"I've just disciplined you and I want to make sure you're okay," Cas said, taking him by the left upper arm and helping him stand. "So change into whatever you wear when you go to bed, then we'll go to sleep."
Dean blinked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Okay."
By the time Dean changed into some soft sleep pants and put away his clothes, Cas was sitting up in bed, the lamp on his nightstand giving him just enough light to read by, a large book on his lap. Cas patted the spot to the left, so Dean crawled into bed.
"Would you like to have an orgasm?" Cas asked.
Dean forgot how to breathe for a moment. Cas had asked him the question in the same tone of voice someone might use if they asked about the weather.
"You don't have to," Dean said. "I know you said you don't like sex."
"Sex is messy, and that's not what I offered," Cas said, setting his book down on the nightstand. "I asked if you wanted to have an orgasm."
Dean's cock apparently thought it was a great idea. "Uhm, I guess."
Cas looked down at him. "I need a clear answer."
"Yeah," Dean said, nodding. "I sleep better when I can jerk off."
"I didn't say you could jerk off," Cas said, and Dean could just hear the air quotes. "That's too messy."
Dean let out a huff of laughter. "Okay, then why don't you tell me exactly what you mean, because I'm not getting it."
"When it comes to sexual partners, I like figuring people out. It's an exception to my usual difficulties with social interaction," Cas said. "I like experimenting and learning what they like, what they don't like, how fast I can make them come, how long I can draw it out, and I like to make them happy."
Dean would never admit to the squeak that came out of his mouth. "Okay."
"If an orgasm would make you happy and allow you to sleep more soundly, then I'm offering a blowjob," Cas said.
Dean's cock twitched. "Really?"
"I don't joke about sex," Cas said. "It confuses people and complicates the entire thing."
Dean smiled. "Well, then yeah, I'd like a blowjob," he said, more things about Cas finally clicking in his head with the new information. He'd never have spoken like that to another master, even Chuck, but Cas liked direct, didn't like bullshit, and that was a good thing because Dean appreciated direct himself.
Cas tossed the blanket off both of them and climbed over Dean's right leg, settling on his stomach between Dean's legs. Dean's eyes widened. He didn't know why, but he hadn't expected Cas to be so bold. He really should've known. Cas hadn't pussyfooted around anything so far. Why should he start now?
"If I do something you don't like," Cas said as he rested his forearms on Dean's thighs, "either say something or flinch or make some sort of noise. The same goes for when you like something. I can't learn if you mask your reactions to what I'm doing."
Dean chuckled. "Okay."
Cas pulled Dean's cock and balls through the slit of his sleep pants, Dean's cock already half hard. "I want to be able to see your face, so use my pillow to prop yourself up."
Dean grabbed Cas' pillow and shoved it behind his head. "Good?"
Cas nodded as he stuck out his tongue, then licked a stripe up the underside of Dean's cock, eyes locked with Dean's.
Dean opened his mouth, but he really couldn't think of anything to say. It was bizarre, surreal, and Dean was having a hard time wrapping his head around it. He wanted it. That wasn't the issue. It was the fact that slave owners weren't usually all that concerned about a slave's pleasure. Most of them didn't abuse their slaves, but he'd never heard of a master offering a blowjob. Reach-arounds and fingering, yes.
Of course Dean had never been in Chuck's bedroom. For all he knew Missouri and Chuck had a revolving door of male and female slaves in their bed, pleasuring them and treating them like kings and queens, but Dean had never noticed anyone else coming or going, and Missouri didn't seem like the type to share.
Cas' tongue prodded at the bundle of nerves under the head of Dean's cock, then up and over the tip. He wrapped his lips around tip, sucking just a bit. Dean gasped as Cas pushed the tip of his tongue into the slit. Cas froze, watching Dean carefully.
"That was a good noise," Dean said, nodding, remembering that Cas hadn't figured him out yet.
Cas' tongue immediately started pushing again, then running back and forth, almost painfully, but it felt so good that Dean bit his lip, closing his eyes. Cas must've realized it was a good reaction, because he pushed even harder.
Dean's breath caught in his chest as Cas licked back and forth, still pushing. It was a sensation no one else had given him before, and Dean loved it. Cas' tongue was strong, and it was obvious this was nowhere near the first time Cas had sucked cock. He knew what he was doing, and Dean had to shift his idea of Cas in his head once again. The man who said he didn't like sex was sucking his cock into his mouth and rolling his tongue along the underside like he'd studied and perfected every technique there was. And considering what he'd seen of Cas so far, he probably had.
He couldn't keep his eyes closed anymore. He had to see Cas. The man was still looking up at him, still focused completely on Dean.
"Hey!" Dean yelped as Cas bit down on Dean's cock. He didn't bite hard, but it was enough to startle Dean. Cas was smiling around the cock in his mouth. "Yeah, that would be the 'I don't like that' noise. But I suppose you knew that would happen and just wanted to see if I would actually let you know if I didn't like something."
Cas took a deep breath in and slowly sank down on Dean's cock, taking it all in. Dean whimpered as Cas swallowed around his cock.
"Fuck, Cas," Dean breathed, clutching the sheets beneath him, fighting the urge to run his fingers through Cas' hair.
Cas pulled back just as slowly as he'd sucked Dean in, not out of breath and not gagging once. He was completely in control of it. When only the tip was still in his mouth, Cas sucked again, sinking back down just a bit, then used his lips to clamp down just under the head.
"Ah, fuck yeah," Dean moaned as Cas pulled back, the tight grip just under the head creating an amazing sensation.
Dean gasped, flinching as Cas ran the tips of his fingers over his inner thigh through the sleep pants. He could just see the mischief in Cas' eyes. Of course Cas would get a kick out of the fact that Dean was ticklish.
Cas ran his fingers back up, then over Dean's balls, the tips of his index and middle fingers moving back and forth over the skin of his sac so lightly that Dean flinched again, holding his breath and clenching his teeth. Cas turned his hand, then tickled the underside of Dean's balls.
"Hah!" Dean blurted, then bit his lip as his face flushed, the tips of his ears even warm.
Cas smiled around his cock again, filing that information away in that big brain of his. His fingers moved lower, over Dean's taint through the sleep pants, and Dean squirmed, breathing shallow. Cas started bobbing on his cock just as he pushed his thumb against Dean's taint and rubbed.
Dean yelled with surprise, coming down Cas' throat, hips twitching as he forced himself to stay still so he didn't hurt Cas. Cas kept bobbing until Dean whimpered, then he pulled away, smug expression on his face.
"Yeah, you earned some gloating time," Dean said, watching as Cas got off the bed and headed for the bathroom. Dean pushed his cock and balls back into his sleep pants and rolled onto his right side so he'd be facing Cas when he got back into bed.
Cas brushed his teeth, then turned off the light and climbed into bed. He turned off the light and got under the covers.
"So what do you want me to do to you?" Dean asked as he reached out and rested his hand on Cas' lower stomach.
"Nothing," Cas said.
"You just gave me one of the best blowjobs I've ever had," Dean said. "Don't you wanna come?"
"No," Cas said. "I want to sleep."
Dean frowned. "Was that like payment or something?" he asked, suddenly suspicious. "Something to cheer me up after getting spanked?"
"You're thinking too much," Cas said, turning onto his left side and facing Dean. "I said I don't like sex. I'm asexual."
Dean's eyes widened. "But you just... Cas, you didn't have to blow me! Why did you...?"
"Calm down," Cas said, running his fingers over Dean's left cheek. "I have no sexual desire myself, and I only masturbate every once in a while when I get an urge. What I really like is making my partners happy. I liked giving you a blowjob, watching you enjoy most of what I did, and making you come so hard you lost your breath for a moment. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to."
"Oh, okay," Dean said. "So all that stuff in the linen closet?"
"I'm a dom," Cas said. "I like taking care of someone, pleasuring them, making them forget about everything else, and seeing how high I can get them. My job is very high-stress, and I don't like taking vacations or getting massages. I need some way of relaxing. Turning a sub into a happy pile of goo, and then holding them while they recover is how I relax."
"Wow," Dean said. "I didn't know asexuals liked that sort of thing."
"Just because I don't want to fuck or be fucked, that doesn't mean I avoid any interaction," Cas said. "If you want, I'll show you some time."
Dean chuckled. "I've never really tried any of that stuff before. I let a girl tie me up once, but that's about it."
"I'm not ordering you to do it," Cas said with a smile. "It's an offer you can refuse or take at any time."
Dean smiled, the smile slowly fading as they settled in and Cas closed his eyes. "Hey, Cas?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you," Dean said.
"For what?" Cas asked.
Dean knew it wasn't because Cas had no clue what Dean could be thankful for, but instead Cas wanted to know exactly which thing he was being thanked for.
"Well, the blowjob was amazing," Dean said with a huff, "but I also wanna thank you for not kicking me out, for listening to me and dragging it out of me when I was scared to go back to daycare, and for trying to work with me even though you didn't want me here in the first place."
"You're welcome," Cas said, eyes still closed. "And it's not you I minded. It's the fact that you're a slave. I plan on running this house as if you aren't a slave, and as much as we can get away with, you'll be treated as any other free man outside the house too."
Dean closed his eyes, unable to wipe the smile off his face. He didn't know what he did to deserve Cas, and he planned on sending Chuck and Missouri a full set of edible body paint as soon as he could politely ask Cas for the money to do so. Because damn, Chuck and Missouri loved that stuff and Dean wanted to show his appreciation to both of them for sending him to Cas.
He didn't know what this would be, what this would turn into, but what he saw so far he liked. He wanted more. And as Cas snuggled up to him, his knees pressed up against Dean's and his lips turned up in a tiny smile, Dean realized Chuck was right because it was exactly what Cas wanted too.
End.
Back to Part 1
Dean had been worried that weekends would be spent at the office too, but Saturday morning found Cas busy at his desk in the upstairs office, stacks of books everywhere, papers strewn about on the floor, and filing cabinets open.
It was a complete mess, but now that Dean was looking, it was a completely different mess than the other day. Whatever system Cas had, it was of his own making, and he watched as Cas moved around the room confidently, grabbing books without even looking at them, shuffling papers, and making notes.
"Sir?" Dean said.
"Yah!" Cas yelped as he spun around.
"Sorry," Dean said, wincing.
"Oh, Dean, hi," Cas said.
"I was just checking to see if you'd like me to bring you some breakfast," Dean said.
"Um, well," Cas said, frowning down at his book. When he met Dean's eyes again, there was a tinge to his cheeks. "I really liked the eggs you made the other day. Would you mind making those again?"
"Dad taught me how to make eggs," he said, smiling. "You want anything besides the eggs?"
"Toast," Cas said. "With strawberry jam. And some orange juice."
"Okay," Dean said with a nod, "I'll bring it up in a few minutes."
"Thank you," Cas said, already flipping through the book again.
*
Dean didn't see Cas much the rest of the day, so when it came time for dinner, Dean made his way upstairs to see if Cas wanted to eat again.
"Sir?" he said, but then he saw a mess of hair on the desk. He walked in, quietly making his way to the desk and smiled when he saw Cas had fallen asleep, face smashed against his left arm.
Dean looked around for a pillow or blanket, but didn't see any, so he went to Cas' room and grabbed the throw from Cas' overstuffed chair. He draped it over Cas' shoulders, then left him alone.
*
The next morning Dean showered and headed downstairs to start breakfast, but Cas was already in his suit and tie, briefcase in hand.
"Let's get breakfast on the way," Cas said. "Go upstairs and change into your clothes for daycare. You pick where we eat."
Dean froze. He thought things had been going well. Cas hadn't seemed upset by anything in days, even though Dean had still been sent to daycare. Did he do something else? What the fuck had he done?
"Sir?" Dean said, his chest getting tight.
"Yes?" Cas said, setting his briefcase on the kitchen counter.
"I...," Dean started, but couldn't figure out what to say.
His eyes were burning and his throat was closing. His stomach suddenly felt so fluttery he was worried he might throw up. He couldn't take another week of daycare.
"I'm sorry," Dean said, his bottom lip quivering and a tear making its way down his right cheek. "I'm really sorry I screwed up last week, but I promise I won't do it again," he said, wiping at his face.
Cas turned to him, his eyes widening as he took Dean in. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"I don't know," Dean said, shaking his head. "I don't know what I did wrong, but I'm sorry. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it. If I'm doing something wrong, just please tell me. I'll stop. Anything," he said, sniffling.
"You're not doing anything wrong," Cas said, holding his hands out to his sides as if he had no clue what was going on.
Dean let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a humorless chuckle. "I must be doing something wrong. It's okay. You can tell me."
Cas frowned at him, his head tilted to the side. "Why do you think you're doing something wrong?"
"I know you sent me to daycare all last week because I reorganized your office without permission," Dean said, blurting it out so fast he wasn't even sure if Cas would understand his words. "But I don't know what I did this week, or I don't know, maybe I'm still in trouble for messing with your office and closet, but I promise I'll never do it again. I'm sorry. Please don't send me back!"
Cas opened his mouth, tilted his head the other way, then closed his mouth. The frown deepened. "You don't like going to daycare?" he asked, nothing but confusion in his tone of voice.
Dean felt like the biggest asshole ever. He had no idea what Cas was going to do to him now. He should've never brought it up. "I'm sorry. It's a nice place. Yes, I like it." He was a slave. He had no say where he went. He should've been happy he wasn't being sold off to another family.
"People normally don't cry and beg not to be taken somewhere when they like the place they're going," Cas said, obviously trying to figure him out.
Dean shook his head. "I'm sorry. I never should've said anything. I'll go get ready. I'm sorry," he said and started for the stairs.
Cas reached out and grabbed Dean's left forearm. "Stop," he said, and Dean obeyed. "Tell me why you don't like it. And don't beat around the bush. I don't like trying to figure people out. I suck at it."
Dean wiped more tears from his face and took a deep breath to calm himself down. "The caretakers are great, the place is clean and very nice," Dean said.
"But...," Cas prompted.
"But I've already had five days of correction," Dean said, wincing because he couldn't refuse to answer, but he knew Cas wouldn't like the answer. "And I don't know what I'm doing to earn all of it."
"What do you mean correction?" Cas said.
Dean felt himself blush, but Chuck had always asked about his punishments at the house, so he should've been used to it by now. "The first day it was a paddling, the second and third day I was caned...," he started, but stopped when Cas sputtered.
"What?!" Cas said, letting go of Dean's arm and stepping back. "What are you talking about?"
Dean's eyes widened. "Did you want them to do something else? They told me you hadn't given any instructions, so they just used the implements they were used to."
"No!" Cas said, shaking his head, holding his hands up. "Wait a minute! Just wait a minute! I sent you to daycare, not a courthouse!"
Dean had no idea what to say to that, so he just kinda stood there and stared at Cas. Why was the man so upset?
"I didn't tell them to punish you!" Cas said, his voice getting louder. "Why would they do that?!"
Dean looked at Cas, at his Master, as if he'd grown another head. "That's what daycare centers are for," he said, face screwing up in confusion.
Cas ran his fingers through his hair, making it look even more disheveled than before. "No! Daycare centers are to care for you during the day! That's why it's called a daycare!"
"Oh, fuck," Dean breathed, jaw dropping.
"Are you telling me that's not what a daycare center is for?!" Cas said, arms out to the side again.
Dean shook his head. "They're for correction. When your slave isn't behaving as they should and you don't have time or patience to deal with them, you send them there for a day to correct them."
"A day? As in one day?!" Cas said, eyes getting impossibly wider.
Dean nodded. "Yeah, that's all it usually takes. I've never been to one before, but that's what I've heard."
"Oh, my God," Cas said, rubbing his hands over his face. "I sent you to a correctional facility for five fucking days!" he moaned into his hands.
Dean's head felt like it was going to spin off his neck. "You didn't know that's what they were for," he said, mostly to himself, because any minute it was going to sink in, but it hadn't yet. He'd spent five days getting his ass beat for nothing. Oh, there, yes, it had set in.
"Dean, I'm so sorry," Cas said, shaking his head, a stricken expression on his face. He growled as he slammed his hand down on the counter. "I told Chuck I didn't want a slave. I can't do this! I have no idea what to do with you! And I've just spent the last five days dropping you off at a correctional facility thinking you were spending the day doing arts and crafts or reading or playing board games!"
Dean didn't know what to say. He was relieved. It was a huge relief to know that Cas hadn't been pissed with him the whole week. Sure, it was horrible having gotten his ass beat for five days, but the reason he'd started crying had been because he'd been under the impression this was going to be a regular thing. Cas' reaction shot that idea right out of the water.
"Let me see," Cas said, taking another step back.
"Huh?" Dean said.
"I want to see what they did to you," Cas said, voice cold.
Dean nodded. "Yes, sir," he said, responding to the order. He turned around and dropped his jeans and underwear just enough to show his ass, wincing when the material scraped over his sore skin.
"Come with me," Cas said, grabbing Dean's left wrist and pulling.
Dean held onto his jeans and underwear with his right hand as Cas pulled him upstairs and into the master bedroom, then into the master bathroom.
"Are you allergic anything?" Cas asked as he opened up his medicine cabinet.
"No, sir," Dean said, confused as to what was going on.
"This is going to sting when I first put it on," Cas said as he pulled a small tube out of the medicine cabinet. "It's a formula I came up with a few years ago and have been pushing to get it on the market, but it's being held back by money hungry pharmaceutical companies. It'll heal your skin five times faster than anything else on the market right now."
"Um, okay," Dean said, shrugging.
"Bend over," he said, gesturing toward the sink.
Dean did as he was told, letting go of his jeans and underwear. Cas opened the tube and squirted some of the gel onto his fingers, then put the tube on the counter. He rested his left hand on Dean's back.
"This is going to burn a lot," Cas said, "but I promise it's not damaging you."
"Okay," Dean said, then closed his eyes as Cas rubbed the cool gel into his heated skin. He hissed as the gel started to burn. "Oh, fuck, you weren't kidding," he said, squirming.
"Let it dry," Cas said as he patted Dean's back.
Dean stood up straight, eyes watering as the burn intensified. "Ah, fuck, Cas, it really fuckin' hurts," he groaned as he reached around behind himself.
"Don't touch!" Cas said.
"Fuck," Dean whimpered, holding his hands out to his sides so he wasn't tempted to touch. "When does it stop? Fuck, Cas, when does it stop?"
Cas put the tube back into the medicine cabinet and turned around, a concerned look on his face. "About twenty more seconds."
"Ow," Dean whined, his hands balled into fists. "Oh, yeah," he moaned as the burn finally subsided. "Oh, that's so much better."
Cas smiled. It was the first time Dean had seen him really smile. "It works, doesn't it," he said instead of asked, proud of himself.
Dean chuckled. "If I still have an ass left after that, then yes, it works because it doesn't hurt at all."
"You're fine," Cas said, smirking.
Dean wiped the remaining tears from his face and chuckled again. "You might wanna think about adding some lidocaine to that gel," he said.
Cas' eyes widened. "Oh! I hadn't even thought of that!" he said, then ran from the room. Actually ran.
Dean stood there for a moment, blinking, then he snorted and pulled his jeans and underwear up. The material touching his skin didn't hurt at all. In fact, he couldn't feel anything against his ass. He made his way to Cas' office, expecting him to be furiously making notes, and he wasn't disappointed.
"I take it you liked my idea?" Dean asked.
"Lidocaine won't work," Cas said, glancing up at him, "but I had been so focused on healing the skin and stopping the pain from the injury that I hadn't even considered adding something to ease the initial pain of the gel working on the skin."
Dean chuckled. Cas looked genuinely excited. And it was because Dean helped him with a breakthrough, he'd done some good.
"So does this mean I don't have to go to daycare today?" Dean asked with a smirk.
"Oh!" Cas said, dropping the book on the floor and stumbling over to Dean, the books already on the floor making his way difficult. He took hold of Dean's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "I swear to you I didn't know that's what daycare was for. If I would've known, I never would've sent you."
Dean nodded, smiling. "I kinda got that when you freaked out downstairs," he said.
"I'm new to this," Cas said, his cheeks turning pink. "I'm not good with people. Which you've already gathered. But I also really don't like the idea of someone depending on me, especially when something like this could happen because of an oversight on my part."
Dean nodded. "I get ya. But Chuck seems to think I should stay here."
Cas grimaced. "Chuck needs to mind his own business," he said petulantly.
Dean chuckled. "And other than getting sent to daycare, I've enjoyed living here. You've got a really nice place, you eat anything I make you, and the few times I've been able to get your attention, you've been nice to me."
Cas blushed again, suddenly realizing his hands were still on Dean's shoulders and dropping them to his sides. "I really like what you did with my closet," he said.
"Seriously?" Dean said.
Cas nodded. "And I noticed you cleaned out my fridge."
Dean snorted. "You had some food in there that was older than this house."
Cas smiled, then he sobered a bit. "I'm really sorry about the whole daycare situation."
"It's okay," Dean said. "You didn't know. And please don't fire the people that work there. They were only doing their jobs."
"They won't be fired," Cas said. "But the daycare will be getting a makeover. It's going to be re-purposed into what I thought it was all these years."
Dean chuckled. "Like a daycare daycare?"
"Yes," Cas said. "I know the place slaves have in society, and I know it can't be changed overnight, but the idea of a correctional facility being run right inside my building is unacceptable. And if I send you there, I want it to be a place where you can do something positive as an alternative to being stuck in the house all day."
"That sounds like a great idea," Dean said with a nod.
"So I have no idea what to do with you," Cas said, throwing his hands up in the air. Dean laughed. "I'm open to suggestions and I want you to be honest with me. Chuck has always spoken very highly of you, and I want you to be happy here."
"Well," Dean said, trying to imagine himself in Cas' place, having never owned a slave, not really any clue as to what they did, "I can do your grocery shopping, you already know I cook and clean, and you've got a laundry room downstairs I could use."
Cas frowned. "But then you'd just be a...," he started, then made a noise of disgust. "No, I want to know what you want to do. I've hired people to cook and clean and do my grocery shopping. I pay them well."
"I'm a slave," Dean said, shrugging. "There's nothing you can do to stop that right now."
Cas let out a humorless laugh. "That doesn't mean I have to treat my slave like dirt. If you're mine, I can do whatever I want with you. And I want you to enjoy your life."
"I do," Dean said. "I know I'm a good cook, and I get a kick out of people looking forward to what I'm gonna make next. I like that my owners can leave the house a mess, but then come home from a hard day at work to a clean house."
"Okay," Cas said, holding his hands out to his sides. "We're getting nowhere with this, and it's only frustrating me."
"Sorry," Dean said, wincing.
"No, don't be sorry," Cas said, then sighed, shoulders dropping. "I'm sure Chuck has told you I'm not good with people. And you've seen that in your first week here. I can't think of what to say to you. I can't figure out how to get what I want the way most people do. My brain doesn't work that way."
Dean shrugged. "So do it the way you normally do. You're a successful guy, so you're doing something right."
Cas scrunched up his nose. "It's only because people depend on and want what I can give them, not because I'm charming and tactful."
"You're an inventor and a genius," Dean said. "Invent a way to do what you want with me."
Cas frowned again, but Dean could see the wheels turning already. And Dean could also immediately see when Cas figured it out.
"Go downstairs and cook your favorite meal," Cas said. "If the ingredients aren't here, go out and get them."
"My favorite meal is-"
"No!" Cas said, holding up his hands and waving them in Dean's face. "Don't tell me what it is."
"But what if you don't like it?" Dean asked, a ball of anxiety growing in his stomach.
"I'm not a picky eater," Cas said, shrugging.
"Yes, you are," Dean said, not too sure if he could disagree with his master, but figuring it was okay.
"Pretend I'm not," Cas said, a little tug at the left corner of his mouth that almost seemed like a smile wanting to come out. "Pretend I'm going to love whatever it is you love. Make it, then come back up here and pick out a book to read until it's dinner time."
"Which ones can I pick from?" Dean asked, glancing around the room.
"Any of them," Cas said, tossing his hands out to his sides. "Even if they're on my desk, the floor, or in my bedroom."
"Yes, sir," Dean said.
"And call me Cas, not sir," Cas said.
"Yes, Cas."
Cas sighed, frustrated. "No," he said, shaking his head. "Don't be so formal. Say 'okay' or 'sure' or, I don't know, 'fuck you, I don't wanna do that.'"
Dean tried not to smile, but Cas was adorable when he was frustrated. "Okay," he said. "When do you want me to start dinner?"
"Anytime you want," Cas said, then turned and picked his book up off the floor.
Chuck had given Dean a lot of wiggle room in his house, but Dean had grown up there, he knew what was expected of him, knew what Chuck liked and didn't like, so his freedoms in the house weren't scary, uncharted territory. This was an unknown. Even though Cas had told him to do whatever he wanted, it was a little worrying. He wanted something to go on. Some kind of order or even an inkling of what Cas would like.
Cas was already settling behind the desk, spreading books out in front of him, and it was clear that he was so engrossed in his reading that he'd forgotten Dean was still in the room.
Dean stood there for a moment, his stomach churning, his ass comfortably numb for the first time in days as he nervously played with the hem of his shirt.
And then it came to him. The files that Ellen had let him look through. No, they didn't have Cas' favorite foods in there, but he did know that Cas had gone through five grocery handlers in the last thirteen months, and that the latest one was good at his job, had many good reviews in his references about the fact that he got exactly what his clients wanted, never substituting requests, which meant everything in Cas' cupboards right now was exactly what Cas wanted.
Dean headed downstairs, steps purposeful and feeling more confident than he had since he got to Cas' house.
*
Dean had chosen a book at random, and it was boring the Hell out of him. Cas would probably let him choose another book, but he didn't want to annoy the man. Cas had a pile of books on the right edge of his desk, another pile on the floor to the left that he'd tripped over about five separate times, and somewhere around ten books strewn about the top of his desk.
"Hah!" Cas blurted about an hour and a half after Dean had started dinner.
Dean startled so badly he nearly fell off the couch. Cas had been muttering the whole time, shuffling about, shoving books around, but he hadn't made a loud noise since Dean had gone downstairs. He looked up at Cas, but smiled when he realized Cas had found his breakthrough and was typing furiously on his laptop, a half-smirk on his face that said Cas was very happy about whatever he'd figured out.
After checking the clock, Dean set his really boring book down on the couch and went downstairs. Dinner should've almost been ready, and Dean started in on a salad, complete with carrot shavings, celery chunks, grated cheese, tomatoes, and croutons he'd baked in the oven after finding a loaf of bread in the breadbox that was just a little too old to be used as a sandwich.
He mixed his own vinaigrette and dished up the salad, baked chicken, herb potatoes, and the broccoli he'd steamed. He shoved a beer into each of his pockets, then headed upstairs with a plate in each hand.
"Dinner," Dean said as he walked into the office.
Cas looked up, smiled, then cleared some space on his desk. "Sit with me at the desk," he said, gesturing to the spot he'd cleared across from him.
"Okay," Dean said, setting the plates down and grabbing the stool from next to a bookcase on his right. He sat down and looked up at Cas, freezing when he saw the frown. "Something wrong?" he asked.
Cas pointed at his own plate. "This is one of my favorite meals, not yours."
"I like baked chicken," Dean said, shrugging.
"But you don't like salads," Cas said, pointing at the offending food, "and herb potatoes aren't on your list of favorite foods."
Dean let out a huff of laughter. "I don't have a list of favorite foods."
Cas sighed. "You're good at obeying your masters, so I'm going to say this once, and I really don't want to repeat myself."
"Okay," Dean said, nodding.
"Do not lie to me," Cas said.
"I...," Dean started, but couldn't finish. Because it really wasn't his favorite meal. Everything had been what he knew Cas liked.
"It's hard enough for me to figure people out," Cas said, "and when they lie, it makes things so much more difficult for me."
"Sorry," Dean said, running his finger over the design on his fork.
"I emailed a few requests to Chuck's staff," Cas said, nodding toward his laptop, "and Missouri sent me a list of your favorites."
Dean felt his face flush. "Oh."
"I don't want to treat you like a slave," Cas said. "I don't agree with slavery, I want it to have never existed, but that doesn't mean I have a problem with you. I want you to be happy."
Dean nodded. "Okay."
"After emailing your mother and Missouri, and after speaking with Chuck, I've decided on a plan of action for you," Cas said, straightening up in his chair.
Dean really wanted to know what everyone had said about him. He knew it wasn't anything bad. He really had been a good slave and there had been very few complaints over the years. Those few complaints had been from people who thought slaves should be seen and not heard, and Chuck didn't want that, so really it wasn't Dean's fault anyway.
"If I ask you to cook a meal that is nothing but your favorites," Cas said, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the desk, "then I want you to do that. Don't second guess me, don't cook what you think I want, and don't lie to me about it."
"Okay," Dean said, nodding.
"Everyone I contacted said spanking works very well for you," Cas said.
Dean's eyes widened. "Uhm, yeah. It does," he admitted, his face flushing again.
Cas nodded. "A lie will earn you a spanking. And I consider obfuscation a lie."
Dean squirmed on the stool. "Okay," he said, nodding.
"I'm not going to spank you this time," Cas said, "because I hadn't made the rules clear. Are they clear now?"
"Yes, si-Cas. Yes, Cas," he said.
"Thank you for making a meal for us," Cas said with a small smile. "I would've liked to enjoy a meal with you that were your favorites, but I appreciate the effort, and it smells delicious."
"Thanks," Dean said, waiting for Cas to start in his food before starting in on his own. "I'm sorry, Cas."
Cas shook his head. "You've already apologized. I consider it forgiven. We'll move on from here."
"Okay," Dean said, relieved. "Thanks."
"I can't change what you are," Cas said, his voice softer than Dean had ever heard it. "I wish I could, and I wish you were just a houseguest here, someone that enjoyed living with me, someone who raided the kitchen to get a snack for themselves and didn't care if I was fed or not, someone who left wet towels on the bathroom floor and wasn't scared they'd be sold off for doing it. But I can't change the way the world works yet, and I don't know how to change the way you feel about it."
"Chuck was a casual owner, not a traditionalist," Dean said. "You know that. He allowed all of us more freedoms than most people are comfortable with, but I'm still a slave. I'm still here to serve you."
"No, you're not," Cas said. "Chuck may have sent you here, but being my slave wasn't his intention and it isn't mine. Once you realize that, I hope you'll be happier here."
"I am happy," Dean said as he munched on a chunk of potato. "Your house is really nice, you've been really nice to me, and I can see that you aren't like most slave owners."
"I know it's ingrained in you," Cas said, "but I'm serious about the lying."
"I didn't li-"
"You're not happy here," Cas said. "I'm not very good at reading people, but you've been taken away from your family, the house you grew up in, the owner you loved and adored, and you've spent the last week being punished in a correctional facility only to come home every night to an owner you can't figure out."
"Let me rephrase it," Dean said. "I'm not unhappy."
"Okay," Cas said, nodding.
"I don't know where I stand with you," Dean admitted. "And I'm the type of guy who likes to know his boundaries. I need to know what's expected of me, and when I can perform, I feel right, I feel like I belong."
Cas frowned, staring off into the distance for a moment. Dean nearly laughed, because it was the same expression he'd had on his face when he'd been thinking about the formula he'd put on Dean's ass. Within just a few seconds, Cas had his solution, and his eyes brightened.
"For every task you do for me, you must do something you want to do," Cas said triumphantly.
Dean chuckled. "Okay."
"That way you'll feel that sense of accomplishment and you'll feel as if you've earned the right to do something you like doing," Cas said, pleased with his plan.
"Sounds good to me," Dean said, nodding.
"You've already done something for me," Cas said, gesturing toward his plate, "so once we're done with dinner, you're going to do one thing you want to do. And it can't be for me, even if it's what you want to do. Understood?"
Dean winced. "Yes."
"It'll be hard at first," Cas said, "but humans adapt quickly, and you're a smart man."
Dean huffed out a laugh. "Who told you that?" he said, shaking his head. "I'm not smart."
Cas smirked. "I won't consider that a lie because you really believe it, but I don't tolerate idiots, and I'm more than happy to have you in my home, which means you're not just of average intelligence. Otherwise I'd be bored and agitated around you."
Dean smiled, because it was just such an odd thing to say, but at the same time Dean got it now that he'd been in Cas' house for a few days. He saw that Cas just couldn't handle ignorance or things that didn't make sense. In his own way, Cas was complimenting him. It felt good.
"Once you're done doing the thing you want to do," Cas said, shoving the skin of his chicken to the edge of his plate, "I want you to order some clothing online. You may use my laptop. No less than five complete outfits and two pairs of shoes. All of which will be what you want to wear, not what you think I want you to wear."
"What about when I leave the house?" Dean asked, thinking of all the times he'd been given strange looks from slave owners simply because he'd been out on his own, and if he'd been walking around in jeans and a T-shirt, it would've been worse.
"No one has to know you're a slave outside the house," Cas said, shrugging. "You've been a fairly independent person under Chuck, and if you walk around in clothing you want to wear, using your own cash and credit cards with your name on them, the only way someone will figure it out is if they ask for your ID."
"I don't know, Cas," Dean said, wincing.
"It's not illegal," Cas said. "There are plenty of slave owners who don't have the time to micromanage their slaves, especially wealthy slave owners. The slaves are given credit cards, cash, and some of them even are assigned vehicles for their own use."
"I don't want you to get in trouble," Dean said.
"Let me worry about that," Cas said. "Your behavior has been outstanding, according to Chuck, and I'm not worried in the least that you'll cause trouble for me. If you do, I have the money, resources, lawyers, and tenacity to get the both of us out of whatever you get us into. Most of the time I end up getting the better end of the deal anyway, so if anyone realizes who owns you, they'll most likely figure it's better to never fight me on it in the first place."
Dean chuckled. "You seem pretty sure of yourself."
Cas shrugged. "I am."
"Okay," Dean said, nodding. "Can I ask something?"
"Yes," Cas said, giving him his full attention.
"Is there anything you don't want me to do?" Dean asked.
"Ah, yes," Cas said, nodding. "You need boundaries to feel comfortable."
"Yeah," Dean said, smiling.
"Inform me before you make purchases of more than one thousand US dollars, inform me of any damages to personal or public property should anything happen," Cas said, ticking each item off on a finger, "stand up for yourself whenever anyone, including me, does or says something you're not comfortable with or violates your state-given rights and the rights given to you by me, tell me the truth, tell me if you want or need something, and enjoy your life here."
"Is that all?" Dean asked, smirking.
"Yes," Cas said, nodding as if he didn't realize Dean had been joking. And he probably didn't.
"One more question," Dean said.
"Okay."
"What rules do you have for me when it comes to sex?" Dean asked.
Cas sat there, staring at Dean as if the thought had never occurred to him before. "Oh, uhm, well, you can have it," he said, nodding.
Dean snorted with laughter, then sobered when he saw the confused look on Cas' face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed. I meant how do you want me to serve you sexually."
Cas' face scrunched up into a look of disgust. "I don't!"
"Oh," Dean said, sitting back a little because Cas just looked so upset that Dean wished he hadn't said anything about it.
"I'm sorry," Cas said, waving his fork at Dean. "I'm not upset with you. I don't agree with slavery anyway, and I try not to think about the fact that owners have the right to sexual favors from their slaves."
"Oh, well, if you don't want me to mention it ever again, I won't," Dean said, shrugging.
"No, I...," Cas started, then shook his head. "You can have sex with anyone you want to have sex with, although I'd suggest you don't advertise that fact or you'll anger some slave owners. Again, if anyone has a problem with you, I'll fix it with no consequences for you unless you break a law or any of the rules I've given you."
"Okay, but what about you?" Dean asked.
Cas scrunched his nose up. It was adorable. "I don't like sex," he said, shaking his head. "It's messy and people like to play mind games. I don't like that."
Dean smiled. "Well, part of owning a sla-"
"No!" Cas said, shaking his head. "I'm not going to be using you."
Dean chuckled. "You didn't let me finish. Calm down," he said, holding his hands up in surrender.
"I'm sorry. Go ahead," Cas said, nodding at Dean.
"I really like sex," Dean said. "I'll take it almost any way I can get it, I don't play mind games, and you're kinda hot with this whole professor, genius, mysterious, rich dude vibe, so it wouldn't be a hardship on my part."
"I can take care of myself," Cas said, "but thank you for the offer."
Dean couldn't stop grinning as he finished up his potatoes. Cas was flushed and stabbing at his chicken like it had offended him. "Hey, what if sex is one of the things I want after I've done something for you?"
Cas glared at him. "I can order you a prostitute if you want."
Dean hid his smile behind the bottle of beer. He didn't think he'd ever heard someone say they were going to 'order' a prostitute. It sounded adorable coming from Cas.
"No, I've never needed to pay for sex," Dean said, shrugging. "A few people have offered to pay me."
Cas choked on his beer.
*
Dean wanted to wash the dishes and clean the kitchen. He really wanted to. But he'd been told to do something that wasn't for Cas. But cleaning up the kitchen would make Dean's job easier next time he had to cook, so really it wasn't just for Cas. Right?
"This sucks," Dean grumbled as he stood in the kitchen, holding a bottle of dish soap. "Can't just fuckin' tell me what to do."
He looked around the kitchen, searching for something he could do that would seem like it was just for him, and then he nearly kicked himself when he realized he could just clean the fucking kitchen and worry about the rest later. Cas was so busy, so interested in his research that he probably wouldn't even ask.
Twenty minutes later the kitchen was spotless, and since it was getting late, Dean decided to do a quick visual check of the house, then see if Cas needed anything before he went to bed.
Cas was still at his desk, and Dean wondered if the man's ass was sore from sitting there so long.
"You need anything before I go to bed?" Dean asked as he walked up to the desk.
Cas looked up at him, blinking, dazed for a moment as he pulled himself out of his own head. "Ah, no. I'm fine for tonight. Thank you."
"Okay, well I'm headed to bed," Dean said. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Goodnight," Cas said, smiling before he started typing again on his laptop.
"Goodnight," Dean said, then turned around.
"Oh, what did you do for yourself after you made me dinner?" Cas asked just as Dean got to the doorway.
"I watched some TV," Dean said, turning to look at Cas.
"The one in the living room?" Cas asked.
"That's the one," Dean said, thinking himself very quick on his feet for having noticed the TV downstairs and pulling that idea out of his ass.
"The one that's not hooked up to anything?" Cas asked.
Dean realized he'd been too quick on congratulating himself for a lie well-told. "Uhm, yeah, I didn't," he said, wincing and reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "I cleaned the kitchen. I didn't watch TV."
Cas closed his laptop and stood up, stretching. Dean caught a glimpse of the man's lower stomach as he raised his arms above his head. Cas finished his long stretch, then headed for Dean. "Come with me," he said as he took Dean by the hand and led him down the hallway toward the master bedroom.
"Cas, I'm sorry," Dean said. He wasn't trying to get out of punishment. He felt bad. Cas was trying to give him freedoms, but Dean wanted something different.
Cas pulled him into his bedroom, then let go of him, walking to a smaller linen closet that Dean hadn't gotten into because it had been locked. Cas opened it with a key from his pocket and Dean nearly pissed his pants.
"Oh, shit," he hissed as he caught a good view of more BDSM equipment than he'd ever seen shoved into such a small space.
It was organized, a place for everything, and there was a good variety of stuff. Cas pulled a small paddle out and shut the door before Dean could categorize everything, but in that time he saw a ball gag, a hood, three different-sized floggers, padded cuffs, and a long length of rope.
Cas turned around, a determined expression on his face. Dean's brain finally registered the paddle in Cas' right hand after the shock of seeing all that equipment. It was oval-shaped, no thicker than a hairbrush, and about six inches long, not including the handle.
"Get on the bed, face down and near the edge," Cas said, using the paddle to point at the bed. "Push your pants and underwear down to your knees."
Dean got into position, no hesitation. He wanted to be good for Cas, and he knew he'd fucked up.
"I'm spanking you because you lied," Cas said, "not because you cleaned the kitchen or couldn't figure out what to do with your free time."
Dean crossed his arms and used them as a pillow, pushing his face into them. "Sorry, Cas," he said, not quite sure how Cas knew Dean couldn't even figure out what to do instead of just assuming he'd shrugged it off.
He had no idea what was going to happen. The healing gel Cas had put on was still making his ass numb, and he didn't think he'd feel anything Cas did to his ass.
The first strike had Dean clenching his ass cheeks, but it had come down on his right thigh, not his ass. Cas knew what he was doing, that much was obvious. The pain was spread evenly, which meant Cas had good aim, and it hurt without being severe enough to break the skin.
"I like figuring things out, but people are difficult for me," Cas said, then hit him again. "And I don't mind if it takes you time to acclimate yourself here. If this is what you need, then I'll give it to you."
Dean wanted to say he didn't need it, that he just needed clear orders and boundaries, but as the next strike landed on his opposite thigh, he realized that no, he already knew his boundaries because Cas had told him, and he also knew what he was supposed to do. He just hadn't wanted to work at it because it was for himself.
"If you're having difficulty figuring things out," Cas said, landing another strike, "you can come to me any time, day or night, but do not lie to me."
Dean squirmed as the pain intensified, Cas letting him know that he really didn't like lying by giving him five hard strikes right in a row on alternating thighs. Tears welled up in his eyes. They always did when he was disciplined. He didn't like it, didn't like disappointing people, and he knew he'd disappointed Cas.
"I may not be easy to get along with," Cas said, "but if you help me figure you out, the both of us will be much happier."
Dean grabbed onto the blanket beneath him, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to keep still. It didn't hurt as much as when Crowley or Ellen had disciplined him, but Dean suspected that was because Cas was using this as a warning, not a flat out punishment. Dean had had worse, but a few tears still spilled down his cheeks.
The spanking stopped, and Dean flinched as Cas put a hand on his back, started gently rubbing. A few more tears ran down his cheeks because it just felt so good. The only times in his life he'd been spanked without being held or touched afterward had been at the daycare center, and it was a relief to know Cas was more like Chuck than he was Crowley.
"It frustrates me when I deal with something and it happens again," Cas said, but his voice wasn't harsh and the hand on Dean's back kept moving. "Please don't lie to me. And please remember that I consider you forgiven, that we can move on from here."
"Okay," Dean said, wiping his face with his forearms. It really hadn't hurt that badly. Most of the tears were because he felt so emotionally raw and because he'd disappointed Cas.
"That means no more saying you're sorry for this," Cas said, "and no scurrying around as if I'm upset with you. We got off to a bad start with a full week of correction for you, but please remember I would never have done that to you, and if it's within my power, that will never happen to you again."
Dean appreciated the promise Cas could really keep. The reality of the situation was that if someone took him away from Cas somehow, they could send him to a correctional facility for discipline. Dean liked that Cas didn't make the promise that he'd never experience it again. That would've been an empty promise.
"Thanks, Cas," Dean said, voice a little hoarse with emotion.
"Are you tired?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna go to bed, if that's okay with you," he said, staying in position because Cas hadn't told him he could move yet.
"You're sleeping in here," Cas said.
Dean looked at him over his shoulder. "Huh?"
"I've just disciplined you and I want to make sure you're okay," Cas said, taking him by the left upper arm and helping him stand. "So change into whatever you wear when you go to bed, then we'll go to sleep."
Dean blinked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Okay."
By the time Dean changed into some soft sleep pants and put away his clothes, Cas was sitting up in bed, the lamp on his nightstand giving him just enough light to read by, a large book on his lap. Cas patted the spot to the left, so Dean crawled into bed.
"Would you like to have an orgasm?" Cas asked.
Dean forgot how to breathe for a moment. Cas had asked him the question in the same tone of voice someone might use if they asked about the weather.
"You don't have to," Dean said. "I know you said you don't like sex."
"Sex is messy, and that's not what I offered," Cas said, setting his book down on the nightstand. "I asked if you wanted to have an orgasm."
Dean's cock apparently thought it was a great idea. "Uhm, I guess."
Cas looked down at him. "I need a clear answer."
"Yeah," Dean said, nodding. "I sleep better when I can jerk off."
"I didn't say you could jerk off," Cas said, and Dean could just hear the air quotes. "That's too messy."
Dean let out a huff of laughter. "Okay, then why don't you tell me exactly what you mean, because I'm not getting it."
"When it comes to sexual partners, I like figuring people out. It's an exception to my usual difficulties with social interaction," Cas said. "I like experimenting and learning what they like, what they don't like, how fast I can make them come, how long I can draw it out, and I like to make them happy."
Dean would never admit to the squeak that came out of his mouth. "Okay."
"If an orgasm would make you happy and allow you to sleep more soundly, then I'm offering a blowjob," Cas said.
Dean's cock twitched. "Really?"
"I don't joke about sex," Cas said. "It confuses people and complicates the entire thing."
Dean smiled. "Well, then yeah, I'd like a blowjob," he said, more things about Cas finally clicking in his head with the new information. He'd never have spoken like that to another master, even Chuck, but Cas liked direct, didn't like bullshit, and that was a good thing because Dean appreciated direct himself.
Cas tossed the blanket off both of them and climbed over Dean's right leg, settling on his stomach between Dean's legs. Dean's eyes widened. He didn't know why, but he hadn't expected Cas to be so bold. He really should've known. Cas hadn't pussyfooted around anything so far. Why should he start now?
"If I do something you don't like," Cas said as he rested his forearms on Dean's thighs, "either say something or flinch or make some sort of noise. The same goes for when you like something. I can't learn if you mask your reactions to what I'm doing."
Dean chuckled. "Okay."
Cas pulled Dean's cock and balls through the slit of his sleep pants, Dean's cock already half hard. "I want to be able to see your face, so use my pillow to prop yourself up."
Dean grabbed Cas' pillow and shoved it behind his head. "Good?"
Cas nodded as he stuck out his tongue, then licked a stripe up the underside of Dean's cock, eyes locked with Dean's.
Dean opened his mouth, but he really couldn't think of anything to say. It was bizarre, surreal, and Dean was having a hard time wrapping his head around it. He wanted it. That wasn't the issue. It was the fact that slave owners weren't usually all that concerned about a slave's pleasure. Most of them didn't abuse their slaves, but he'd never heard of a master offering a blowjob. Reach-arounds and fingering, yes.
Of course Dean had never been in Chuck's bedroom. For all he knew Missouri and Chuck had a revolving door of male and female slaves in their bed, pleasuring them and treating them like kings and queens, but Dean had never noticed anyone else coming or going, and Missouri didn't seem like the type to share.
Cas' tongue prodded at the bundle of nerves under the head of Dean's cock, then up and over the tip. He wrapped his lips around tip, sucking just a bit. Dean gasped as Cas pushed the tip of his tongue into the slit. Cas froze, watching Dean carefully.
"That was a good noise," Dean said, nodding, remembering that Cas hadn't figured him out yet.
Cas' tongue immediately started pushing again, then running back and forth, almost painfully, but it felt so good that Dean bit his lip, closing his eyes. Cas must've realized it was a good reaction, because he pushed even harder.
Dean's breath caught in his chest as Cas licked back and forth, still pushing. It was a sensation no one else had given him before, and Dean loved it. Cas' tongue was strong, and it was obvious this was nowhere near the first time Cas had sucked cock. He knew what he was doing, and Dean had to shift his idea of Cas in his head once again. The man who said he didn't like sex was sucking his cock into his mouth and rolling his tongue along the underside like he'd studied and perfected every technique there was. And considering what he'd seen of Cas so far, he probably had.
He couldn't keep his eyes closed anymore. He had to see Cas. The man was still looking up at him, still focused completely on Dean.
"Hey!" Dean yelped as Cas bit down on Dean's cock. He didn't bite hard, but it was enough to startle Dean. Cas was smiling around the cock in his mouth. "Yeah, that would be the 'I don't like that' noise. But I suppose you knew that would happen and just wanted to see if I would actually let you know if I didn't like something."
Cas took a deep breath in and slowly sank down on Dean's cock, taking it all in. Dean whimpered as Cas swallowed around his cock.
"Fuck, Cas," Dean breathed, clutching the sheets beneath him, fighting the urge to run his fingers through Cas' hair.
Cas pulled back just as slowly as he'd sucked Dean in, not out of breath and not gagging once. He was completely in control of it. When only the tip was still in his mouth, Cas sucked again, sinking back down just a bit, then used his lips to clamp down just under the head.
"Ah, fuck yeah," Dean moaned as Cas pulled back, the tight grip just under the head creating an amazing sensation.
Dean gasped, flinching as Cas ran the tips of his fingers over his inner thigh through the sleep pants. He could just see the mischief in Cas' eyes. Of course Cas would get a kick out of the fact that Dean was ticklish.
Cas ran his fingers back up, then over Dean's balls, the tips of his index and middle fingers moving back and forth over the skin of his sac so lightly that Dean flinched again, holding his breath and clenching his teeth. Cas turned his hand, then tickled the underside of Dean's balls.
"Hah!" Dean blurted, then bit his lip as his face flushed, the tips of his ears even warm.
Cas smiled around his cock again, filing that information away in that big brain of his. His fingers moved lower, over Dean's taint through the sleep pants, and Dean squirmed, breathing shallow. Cas started bobbing on his cock just as he pushed his thumb against Dean's taint and rubbed.
Dean yelled with surprise, coming down Cas' throat, hips twitching as he forced himself to stay still so he didn't hurt Cas. Cas kept bobbing until Dean whimpered, then he pulled away, smug expression on his face.
"Yeah, you earned some gloating time," Dean said, watching as Cas got off the bed and headed for the bathroom. Dean pushed his cock and balls back into his sleep pants and rolled onto his right side so he'd be facing Cas when he got back into bed.
Cas brushed his teeth, then turned off the light and climbed into bed. He turned off the light and got under the covers.
"So what do you want me to do to you?" Dean asked as he reached out and rested his hand on Cas' lower stomach.
"Nothing," Cas said.
"You just gave me one of the best blowjobs I've ever had," Dean said. "Don't you wanna come?"
"No," Cas said. "I want to sleep."
Dean frowned. "Was that like payment or something?" he asked, suddenly suspicious. "Something to cheer me up after getting spanked?"
"You're thinking too much," Cas said, turning onto his left side and facing Dean. "I said I don't like sex. I'm asexual."
Dean's eyes widened. "But you just... Cas, you didn't have to blow me! Why did you...?"
"Calm down," Cas said, running his fingers over Dean's left cheek. "I have no sexual desire myself, and I only masturbate every once in a while when I get an urge. What I really like is making my partners happy. I liked giving you a blowjob, watching you enjoy most of what I did, and making you come so hard you lost your breath for a moment. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to."
"Oh, okay," Dean said. "So all that stuff in the linen closet?"
"I'm a dom," Cas said. "I like taking care of someone, pleasuring them, making them forget about everything else, and seeing how high I can get them. My job is very high-stress, and I don't like taking vacations or getting massages. I need some way of relaxing. Turning a sub into a happy pile of goo, and then holding them while they recover is how I relax."
"Wow," Dean said. "I didn't know asexuals liked that sort of thing."
"Just because I don't want to fuck or be fucked, that doesn't mean I avoid any interaction," Cas said. "If you want, I'll show you some time."
Dean chuckled. "I've never really tried any of that stuff before. I let a girl tie me up once, but that's about it."
"I'm not ordering you to do it," Cas said with a smile. "It's an offer you can refuse or take at any time."
Dean smiled, the smile slowly fading as they settled in and Cas closed his eyes. "Hey, Cas?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you," Dean said.
"For what?" Cas asked.
Dean knew it wasn't because Cas had no clue what Dean could be thankful for, but instead Cas wanted to know exactly which thing he was being thanked for.
"Well, the blowjob was amazing," Dean said with a huff, "but I also wanna thank you for not kicking me out, for listening to me and dragging it out of me when I was scared to go back to daycare, and for trying to work with me even though you didn't want me here in the first place."
"You're welcome," Cas said, eyes still closed. "And it's not you I minded. It's the fact that you're a slave. I plan on running this house as if you aren't a slave, and as much as we can get away with, you'll be treated as any other free man outside the house too."
Dean closed his eyes, unable to wipe the smile off his face. He didn't know what he did to deserve Cas, and he planned on sending Chuck and Missouri a full set of edible body paint as soon as he could politely ask Cas for the money to do so. Because damn, Chuck and Missouri loved that stuff and Dean wanted to show his appreciation to both of them for sending him to Cas.
He didn't know what this would be, what this would turn into, but what he saw so far he liked. He wanted more. And as Cas snuggled up to him, his knees pressed up against Dean's and his lips turned up in a tiny smile, Dean realized Chuck was right because it was exactly what Cas wanted too.
End.
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