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Dean loved being Prince Castiel’s sex slave. Cas was considerate and gentle, unlike many of his brothers. When Cas’ kingdom had conquered Dean’s ten months ago, and Dean was chosen as a royal consort for his pretty eyes and pink lips and freckled cheeks, he had bemoaned and feared his fate. But he found that Castiel was kind- asking Dean about his family and making jokes and even allowing him to wander about the castle. He did not touch Dean, confessing that he never wanted a slave, but his brother, King Lucifer, insisted that each of the brothers received one from the war’s spoils.
It was Dean who kissed Cas first, Cas stepping back with a gasp, and then moving back in to ravage Dean’s mouth. It was Dean who shed his clothes one night, tucking into Cas’ bed instead of the cot that Cas had graciously allowed him to sleep on. It was Dean who was disgruntled when Castiel had only held him that night, whispering that he didn’t want Dean to rush into anything he wasn’t ready for. It was Cas who almost cried the first time they made love, sweet and slow and gentle in the dead of night.
It was Castiel who was hesitant when Dean opened the large box inside one of his closets, to find a wealth of gags and clamps and paddles and restraints. It was Dean who grinned wide as he approached Cas, handing him a length of rope and crossing his wrists, raising them in offering. It was Dean who demanded more and more during their first scene, who cried for harder, faster, sharper.
It was Dean who grew jealous of the way Castiel’s brothers got to treat their slaves, taking them suddenly, whenever and wherever they pleased. Lucifer, Michael, and Raphael had their slaves with them at all times, kissing and fondling and even fucking them at any time their hearts desired, no matter what was happening around them or who else was present.
Dean spent many nights pondering why Castiel did not do the same. True, he was not like his brothers- he was not entitled or cruel- but Dean had shown him that he wanted him. That he wanted to be with Cas, and, more than that, he wanted to be owned by Cas. He came to the conclusion that it was because Dean was a man. The other brothers’ slaves were women, but everyone knew of Castiel’s inclination. Here in this kingdom such a thing was tolerated, and more so for Cas because he was royalty. But Dean could see how Cas might still hesitate to display his desires to the public eye because of this. Dean fumed inside but did not tell Castiel of his thoughts. As much as he wanted to be taken in front of anyone who would watch, he was, admittedly, ashamed of this desire.
His resolve broke on a night of celebration, when the entire royal family was feasting in honor of their latest conquest. Lucifer sat at the head of the table, his four brothers seated next to him, each of their slaves sitting on the floor at their feet. In the middle of their feast, Lucifer pulled his slave up by the hair, ordering her to stand still as his lips latched on to one of her nipples. She moaned and threw her head back as he sucked hard, mauling her other breast with his hand. This continued on for the rest of the feast, the rest of the family continuing to eat as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
Dean’s dick grew hard, his nipples burned with the need to have Castiel’s warm, wet mouth on them, and he wanted. He wanted to be grabbed and ravished, to be claimed in front of everyone. He yearned to be objectfied like that- to be devoured as if he were no different than the piece of meat on Castiel’s plate.
Dean’s eyes began to prickle with tears. If he were to offer himself to Castiel like that, to thrust out his chest and beg Cas to take him, would Cas agree? Or would he reject Dean, ashamed at the thought of his family and subjects seeing him with a man?
Before he knew what he was doing, he was tugging on the hem of Cas’ robes, puffing his chest out when Cas looked down, making a quiet mewling sound at Cas’ confused, then hesitant expression. “Cas,” he whispered, careful that no one else could hear him. Slaves were not allowed to speak. “Please. Take me.”
Before he could register Castiel’s suddenly lustful expression, strong hands quickly hauled him to his feet, Cas’ mouth finding one of his nipples. He sucked hard, as if trying to draw sustenance from Dean’s teats, and Dean groaned as his dick grew even harder. Cas closed his teeth around the bud and then pulled back as far as he could, Dean crying out in glorious pain before the bud popped free. But Cas caught it with his teeth again, biting it a little as he laved his tongue across the tip over and over. He pulled and pinched and twisted the other nipple with his fingers, then switched to flicking it with his index finger for what felt like sweet eternity. Dean moaned and panted unabashedly, reveling in the way his skin burned under the gazes of so many people. Reveling in the way it felt to know everyone knew that he belonged to Cas.
But that night, guilt managed to claw its way into Dean’s mind. Who was he to make any requests of Cas? Cas didn’t want others to witness his homosexuality, and that was a reasonable way to feel. Who was Dean argue?
In bed, Dean sank into Cas’ embrace, thanking him for granting his foolish plea. “My Prince, I know you are… hesitant to display your relations with another man, and I thank you for appeasing me tonight. I beg of you to forgive me for my transgression. I am no one to ask anything of you.”
Castiel pulled back from their embrace to look at him. “Did you think that was why I do not touch you in front of others?”
Dean nodded slowly, nervous at Cas’ hardened gaze.
Cas sighed heavily and shook his head. “I choose not to engage in sexual activity around the palace because I think it is dehumanizing. These slaves, not only are they forced…” Castiel trails off, closing his eyes at where his train of thought was going. “But to have that done to them while others watch…” Cas shook his head again.
Dean nodded, relieved and suddenly hopeful. If this was the reason for Cas’ hesitance, perhaps he could change Cas’ mind. “I understand, my Prince, but I- you know that there has not been a day when I was averted by your touch. And if there were, I know you would not touch me.” Dean breathed, trying to calm his racing heart before uttering the words he’d wanted to say for so long. “I love being yours, I love it when you take me. And I want everyone to know that I belong to you.”
Cas’ eyes grew wide. He knew that Dean loved to submit, loved to be grabbed and tied and taken. But to be owned in front of others… Castiel had never let himself fantasize about what it would be like if Dean desired that.
Cas opened his mouth and then closed it, opened it again, trying to find the right words before speaking. “Dean, if we do this, I need verbal consent from you. I need you to tell me that when we are outside this room, I can take you when and where and how I please, unless you tell me otherwise, in which case I will immediately stop.”
Dean couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “You have my full permission,” he responded, beaming.
From that day on, Dean was paraded around the palace much more prominently than before. His hands were tied behind his back with rope, golden nipple clamps connected by a chain hung from his reddened buds, and a golden butt plug encrusted with a gleaming sapphire was forever in his ass. A black leather collar was around his neck, the tag hanging from it engraved with the phrase, “Property of Castiel.” Dean was to accompany Castiel everywhere, always walking to the left of him and one step behind. Everyone knew who he belonged to.
At night when they retreated to Cas’ royal chambers, Cas no longer gagged Dean. With his wails that could be heard outside the palace walls, everyone knew who the Prince was fucking into the bed.
But sometimes, Cas still chose to gag him. When the Prince met with his royal advisers, he would arrange Dean on one of the plush chairs, spread his legs open, and shove a ball gag in his mouth. He nonchalantly fingered and teased Dean’s hole as he spoke to his advisers about the kingdom’s affairs. Dean writhed and panted and moaned into the gag, his body on fire with the sensations, but Castiel did not even spare his slave a glance. Dean would come hardest during those sessions- he loved the way it felt to be driven mad by the Prince’s absentminded touches, to be wanton and desperate and needy while the Prince was unaffected.
Sessions like those were always planned, always discussed beforehand. No matter how much time passed, Dean still sensed that Castiel was uncomfortable with simply taking what he wanted when he wanted it. But maybe that was okay. After all, it made Dean feel safe, and it felt good when Cas considered his input on their scenes.
Castiel made sure that everyone knew that he owned Dean, that they were together. And that was all Dean had ever wanted.