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Castiel was barely awake, pulling in short slow breaths and blinking was all he could do. Sam and Dean had taken turns with him again tonight. Keeping his holes busy, and his heart racing, till they were satisfied. It took a lot to satisfy them.
Demonic blood gave Sam a steady appetite for all things human, and being a demon gave Dean’s hunger teeth.
It was a good thing, serving them. Satisfying them. Pleasing them.
It was good when they were pleased.
Cas tried his best to please them, his very very best.
It was important that he try his best.
“Up you come, Cas.”
It wasn’t an order, he knew what Dean sounded like when he gave orders. Instead, he let his body be manipulated; dragged up and off the bed. There were a couple of places he expected to go. They’d seemed pleased with his performance, so perhaps the soft mat at the foot of the bed. Or his kennel … that had a pillow and a blanket inside of it. Cas liked the kennel, no matter how cramped he’d once found it.
“Knocked you right out didn’t we?”
Castiel’s eyes rolled around, finding Dean’s as he nodded. He couldn’t speak, wasn’t allowed to.
“Don’t go to sleep on us yet.”
Another nod, he’d stay awake. He would. He’d be good for them. Being bad wasn’t an option, only good. He’d be good.
“Me ‘n Sammy are going out for a bit, want to make sure you’re ready for us when we get back.”
That made sense, he had to be ready. Anything the brothers did to help him was perfect.
“Sam, you grab his arm.”
He could feel his centre of gravity shift and the room whirl around him as he was manhandled upright. It had been a while since he’d been upright, and his vessel's blood pressure fought to maintain itself; something he’d had to get used to since his collar throttled his grace, but it was a necessary part of serving the brothers, and this meant it was good.
Castiel tried to help his masters, anticipating the position they wanted him in and tensing the few muscles that still worked. They usually gave him a bit of time to regain his senses after using him; his body needed time to reset, and it had barely started. The power that curled around his legs and wrenched them wide was familiar, Sam had become very adept at using his gifts. Castiel knew he was very fortunate to be at the receiving end of such grand majesty.
“Arms behind your back.”
Their willing servant flexed his shoulders, dragging leaden limbs where they were wanted, grateful once Sam’s power tucked them where they were meant to go. They were very lenient as long as he tried to do what he’d been told. He was fortunate and very grateful.
“You hold him up, Dean. I’ll get the lube.”
They weren’t done with him yet, it seemed. Castiel kept himself stable, kneeling wide and open at the edge of the bed, shoulders held steady by demonic hands. He was eager to serve them more, eager to see to their needs. If he saw to theirs, then they might be pleased and let him feel pleasure too.
Not that he expected this, of course. He served them , no one served him. Rewards were extras, the cherry on his sundae of service.
As if he was reading his mind - and perhaps he was, no one knew how powerful Dean had become - his fully demonic master reached down to stroke his sofar ignored cock. His soft gasping pants of pleasure did not count as speaking and were encouraged. He thanked them with his sounds of joy or anguish, telling them he was fully aware and in the moment. It would be rude to ignore their use of his body.
“You like that, don’t you?”
It was hard to keep his eyes open, the surge of blood from brain to dick difficult to navigate, but he nodded. Yes, he liked this. Loved it, loved the attention and care.
“Get him closer.”
Sam returned, dragging him forward and off balance with a rough hand on his collar. Master’s power, still curled safely around their pet’s legs, and Dean’s hands kept him from falling off the bed. They knew he’d been used to near his limit, and they didn’t like it when they accidentally broke him. It took him too long to recover.
“Gonna make sure you’re nice ‘n open for us when we get back.”
Castiel nodded again, grateful for whatever they gave him, whatever they wanted. It was only moments later that he caught on to their plan, and whimpered.
Neither hushed him, concentrating on lifting his bag of potatoes body up and over one of the bedposts at the foot of the bed. His hole was still open and slick, so Sam had probably lubed up the thick wooden structure he knew would somehow fit inside of him. When the Winchesters had a plan, it got executed. An angelic sex toy wasn’t goign to stand in their way.
His head fell back, staring up at the ceiling with wide glassy eyes, pulling in breath after breath and crying out at every fraction of an inch the brothers gained.
He was thankful they didn’t have a large four-poster bed that came with curtains, those posts would have destroyed him beyond repair. The thick round design … it wouldn't really harm him … not permanently.
It was wider than any toy they’d used on him. Wider than their fingers, or cock, or fists … wider than their forearms.
The very top bit wasn’t too bad, lots of ridges and bumps for his rim to try and catch hold of, but nothing too big. The second bit, the one he knew would come soon, was what terrified him. Thick and round at the top, it tapered down eventually … but his rim would have to stretch over that wide wide impossibly big peak first.
He whimpered and cried and squealed, and didn’t move anywhere but down. His body was too tired and terrified to even think of fighting back, and his head wouldn’t have let it anyway. This was happening. It had to.
“Look at that hole stretch.” Sam commanded, and Castiel let his head flop forward alongside Dean’s.
The demon could lean down, truly inspect the state of his rim as gravity and body weight dragged him towards being fuller than ever before. Cas couldn’t do that, probably wasn’t bendy enough to begin with, but he could see the sudden bulge underneath his belly button, the egg-shaped tip of the bedpost barely visible; showing him how far he’d already sunk down … how much further he still had to go.
Dean tugged his head back up, and back, bit down on the muscle that connected the angel’s head to his shoulders. The demon was fond of biting - called is marking - and Castiel had learnt to see the pain as a sign of love. Dean cared enough for him to proclaim ownership.
That was good.
He’d learnt lots of things. They’d been thorough in their training; shaping him to be exactly what they needed. And their needs were important.
Castiel was glad to serve them.
“Don’t come, angel.” Sam ordered, probably keeping a careful eye on their toy’s erection as he said it.
They’d trained him to like this, to crave it. Trained his brain to see pain as pleasure, as pain, as pleasure … it got muddled together and made serving them just that tad easier.
They were so kind, he truly didn’t deserve them. Which was why he had to do this, show them how thankful he was for their attention and care.
“There we go. Gorgeous.” Dean whistled as Castiel consciously relaxed his entire body. Surrender was a beautiful thing.
His rim stretched impossibly wider, and then he sank down a whole inch at once. He’d done it. He’d gotten the widest part inside of him, rim now clenched tight around the gentle downward slope that was the rest of the bedpost. The thick bulbous wood now forcing his insides out of its way; making room for itself.
Castiel shivered, still whimpering as every movement shocked his entire system. He’d never been this full in his life. And when Dean guided his head forward once more, he could see the shadow of the bedpost top had morphed into a clearly defined bulge.
His toes, twitching and shivering, hit the floor.
“Get the chain, Dean.”
Sam took over supporting him, bloodborne powers keeping their pet’s arms neatly out of the way where they’d been folded.
“You ever been this full, angel?” Sam’s hand stroked down Cas’ stomach, tracing the bedpost’s outline so very very gently it almost tickled. A muscle cramped, and Cas knew his dick was drooling precome onto the floor.
Castiel shook his head. Never. Never. Never before. No.
“Thank you, Dean.”
The boy-king took the offered chain, a thin but sturdy one that usually bound Castiel to his post. It left him enough room to move and change positions when they gave him more intricate commands to follow than rest till we come back . Sam clipped it to Castiel’s collar, and let his power take the other end above their heads. Cas tipped his head up, blearily watching it wind itself around one of the beams there, tying itself off.
There was a bit of slack, he’d be caught by the neck if he fell in any way, but it would not support him. All that kept him up were his toes … and the massive pressure inside his hole.
“That should keep you nice and open till we come back.” Sam cooed, palming his toy’s cheek and placing a single kiss on the nearest temple. It burned with promise. A promise mirrored in Dean’s eyes as he clipped the alligator clamps made from a melted down angel blade onto his presented chest.
“You know what we’re going to do when we get back?”
One of Cas’ feet slipped on the polished wood, and he cried out as he sank down even lower. Panting heavily, he hung from his neck till he could get the foot back in position. Only with both points of contact, could he push himself up higher again; thighs shaking under the strain. Eyes rolled back, body exhausted before it even started, Castiel shook his head.
There was no anticipating the clever inventiveness of the brothers. Even this, he would never have been able to dream up by himself.
“Gonna both fuck you at the same time.” The smile on Dean’s face was manic, and Castiel found himself copying it.
He loved being used by them both at the same time, bringing them pleasure … both inside one hole would be new. It was exciting.
Dean kissed him right on his smiling lips, tongue demanding entry seconds after, and Castiel opened up for him. He was already so full, what harm could another tongue do?
“Dean, enough.” Sam said, a gentle reminder of their duties. Their pet would be exactly where they’d left him later.
There was no way for Castiel to move anywhere else. Even if Sam released his arms, and he managed to unclip the chain, he would never have the strength to lift himself off the giant toy stuck inside of him. He was well and truly impaled.
Dean growled into the angel’s mouth, but pulled back, patting their pet’s cheek twice as a goodbye. Cas had no idea how long he’d have to wait. The insecurity crawled up his throat and out of his mouth as a pathetic whimper. If he’d had his arms, he’d have reached out for them, for comfort, for pain, for anything .
“Needy.” Sam chided, but there was no bite. They’d made him needy, bent him till he could no longer function without their presence or orders.
The brothers turned their backs on him, but the pressure at the back of his neck - where Sam had marked him, carved their ownership into his skin - pulsed. Sam’s power wrapped him in a tight hold, raised him up, stretched his toes to their limit. As the door closed and locked him inside their room, the power pushed him down again, pressed till his heels touched the floorboards. Castiel shuddered, knowing Sam was ordering him to fuck himself on the bedpost he was impaled on.
He let his mind relax into the heat running down his neck, surrendered to Sam’s hold on him; body, mind, and soul. This was good.