A/N: Filling prompts from the spnkink_meme this time, trying to get the smut-bunnies to behave so I can finish plotting the other stories.

First up from an anonymous prompter: Request: Dean/Demon, Stockholm Syndrome, Daddy!kink, Dubcon.
Would love to see Dean being captured and developing Stockholm Syndrome for his captor. Daddy!kink is a bonus.

The demon has to be YED, Alistair or Crowley. I'm not fussy about who, I'm just itching for some stockholm syndrome!

This is what came out:

Title: Good Boy

Pairing: Dean/Crowley

Warnings: Dubcon (at first), sorta Stockholm/brainwashing (not sure if it's exactly what prompter was looking for), handjobs, blowjobs, frottage, exhibitionism/reluctant voyeurism, anal sex.

-SS-

The first time Dean wakes up in his new home, he's not overly concerned. With the amount of times the angels have screwed with his dreams, he figures this is just another one. Then he remembers what made him fall asleep in the first place, and starts to shake.

He'd managed to get Sam and Bobby a head-start out of the hell-hole, helping Cas distract the demons from their task of catching Sam. They'd been separated during the fight, however, and Dean had gone down. Certain that this was his end – yet again – Dean had been unable to move, when suddenly the demons started screaming and running. Though he couldn't see what had scared them off, he'd heard and sensed it – hellhounds.

Specifically: Crowley's hellhounds.

The Crossroads King himself had sauntered over then, smirking. Dean had passed out before managing to insult the pompous git, injuries overtaking him. And now he's woken up, apparently completely healed, resting in a huge, comfortable bed in an overly lavish bedroom.

This does not bode well.

It takes Dean a few minutes to struggle out from under the covers and over to the edge of the bed, and by the time he's standing, Crowley has entered the room.

"Finally up and about, I see," the demon smirks at Dean, gaze wandering over the expanse of flesh.

Dean looks down, and swallows hard. He's completely naked.

"Okay, I realise I'm ridiculously good-looking," Dean tries not to squirm, "but you really don't need to see quite this much of me. Where are my pants?"

"Sorry." Crowley doesn't sound sorry in the slightest. "They just got in the way. You won't be needing them anymore."

"What? Why not?" Dean's immediately on the defensive, not liking where this is going.

"You've proven that you can't be trusted with your own safety," Crowley shrugs. "So I'm taking a whack at it. Let's see if I can keep you alive for more than a month at a time."

"Let's not," Dean growls back.

"You don't get a say in it," Crowley shrugs, then turns towards the door again. "You should find most of what you need within this suite. I'll return tomorrow. See if you've accepted things then."

-SS-

Dean hasn't accepted things the next day.

He spends hours scouring the rooms, looking for a way out. There's the bedroom, bigger than pretty much any he's been in before. In addition to the huge bed there is a seating area with a comfortable couch and a television, which doesn't actually receive outside channel, a cabinet filled with blu-rays, and a bookshelf containing mostly fiction books, with a few car or skin magazines. The floor is dark polished wood with thick brown and green rugs over the top, and the walls are painted deep green. With the dark wooden furniture, the room somehow feels like a forest.

Through one door is a bathroom, roughly the size of his usual motel bedrooms. This room is decorated in various shades of blues and greens, a definite under-water theme, somewhat clichéd maybe but still tastefully done. The shower has enough room for at least four people, and there's a large tub that Dean could probably swim in if he felt like it as well.

The other door in the bedroom that Dean can open contains a personal gym. There are no weapons, but there's a punching bag, a wrestling ring, and several exercise machines. Another large TV is on the wall in front of the machines.

In all, Dean is reluctantly impressed. It really is the perfect place to keep him imprisoned and entertained. Not that he wants to be here, and if he had any way of escaping he'd take it in a heartbeat. But there are no windows, not even barred ones, and the only door out won't open. It doesn't seem to be locked, it just won't open for Dean.

It opens for Crowley though.

"So, settling in are we?"

"Bite me," Dean mutters, sitting on the couch and glaring at Crowley.

"If you insist," Crowley shrugs and steps forwards.

"Hold up!" Dean jumps up, hands outstretched. "That wasn't an invitation!"

"You shouldn't tease. It's not nice." Crowley looks at Dean for a moment, then around at the room. "So, how do you like it? Anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

"You could give me back my clothes," Dean tries, even though he's pretty sure he knows the answer.

"No." Crowley doesn't disappoint. "You might be able to earn them back if you behave."

This continues for several visits. Dean thinks that Crowley is coming once a day, but without being able to judge time properly, he can't really know. He does know that he sleeps between visits, and that whenever he gets hungry food appears on the low table in front of the couch. It's always something different, and a lot of it he's never tried before. Fancy things that he'd never been able to afford before.

He thinks that Crowley might be trying to court him with all the effort he's putting into this. It scares him a little that he's not more put off by the thought.

-SS-

It's about the twentieth visit, and Dean's frustrated in several different ways – though mostly, at the moment, it's sexual frustration. He's gone longer without sex, especially since coming back from Hell, but he's always before been able to at least look at women and construct fantasies about them. Here, his only contact is with Crowley, for maybe ten minutes at a time.

He's in the shower, trying to take care of his little problem by himself, when he hears Crowley moving around the bathroom.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Dean mutters.

"Sorry, is this a bad time?" Crowley calls out. "My schedule's all out of order at the moment, I'll have to fire my secretary."

Dean just glares at the tiles in front of him, and shuts off the water. He knows he's not going to be able to enjoy himself with Crowley standing right outside the shower. He tries to will his erection away, but it doesn't seem to be working. After a few minutes, he figures what the hell – it's Crowley's fault for interrupting anyway.

He steps out of the shower and crosses to collect his towel, determinedly not looking at Crowley while he does so. He's so focussed on ignoring the demon, in fact, that he's taken by surprise when Crowley steps behind him and grabs his arm, holding him still.

"What the fuck?" Dean starts to turn, but finds it difficult when Crowley's other hand reaches around and grasps his cock. "Woah, hold up there!"

"Oh shut up," Crowley starts stroking him leisurely. "I thought you might appreciate someone else touching you."

"Crowley, this is not okay! Let go!" Dean's trying to struggle, but Crowley is effectively surrounding him, holding him in place.

"Once you're done," Crowley says calmly. "Now just enjoy it."

Dean opens his mouth to further object, when Crowley squeezes a little harder on his cock, just underneath the head, and Dean instead lets out a low groan of arousal.

"That's better." Dean can hear the smirk in Crowley's voice, but as long as that skilled hand keeps stroking him, Dean's not going to object. It really has been too long since he got laid. Instead, he reaches forwards and holds onto the towel rail, and starts moving his hips. Crowley lets go of his arm then. Dean doesn't really notice.

Somehow, Crowley knows exactly how to bring Dean panting and shivering to climax. Dean lets his head fall forwards and grunts as he ejaculates all over the towel he was going to use to dry off earlier, and barely notices when Crowley leans forwards slightly, both arms going around Dean so that he can wipe his hands clean.

"Good boy."

Dean's head shoots up and he looks over his shoulder, just as Crowley's leaving. He trips on his own feet a little as he heads to the door, watching the demon leave the room.

Feeling thoroughly confused, Dean turns back to have another shower and clean away the feel of a demon on his skin.

When he gets out, the towel is clean and dry again. There's also a chest of drawers in the bedroom now, containing several pairs of boxer shorts.

-SS-

For the next ten visits, Crowley continues to give Dean a hand-job. He doesn't speak much otherwise, but always tells Dean that he's a good boy after. Dean stops even pretending to not want it after a while, letting himself face Crowley while it's happening. So, naturally, Crowley has to up the ante again.

Dean's lying back on the couch, sated again, and for the first time Crowley's sitting next to him still. The demon waits until Dean is breathing normally, then gently pushes him off the couch and onto his knees.

"I've been good to you so far," Crowley informs his human pet, "so it's time for you to return the favour."

"I don't know," Dean shifts a little, but he's not moving away. "I've never… not with another guy."

"Well, it'll be a learning experience for you." Crowley tugs him forwards, a hand behind Dean's head showing clearly what he wants. "Come on. I've gotten you off how many times so far? And I'm willing to keep going, if you'll just help me out a little."

Against his better judgement, Dean nods and wets his lips as he reaches for the fly of Crowley's expensive suit trousers. He can see that Crowley's already hard, and can't keep himself from squirming a little as he touches another man's erection for the first time.

"That's it," Crowley gently encourages him. "Take your time."

Dean wraps a hand around the base and leans forwards, gingerly lapping at the head of the cock in his face. He tries to remember all of the things he likes in a blowjob, and slowly starts licking all of Crowley's erection. When it is covered in saliva to Dean's satisfaction, he slides his mouth over the cock and starts bobbing his head, still flicking it with his tongue and massaging the base with his hand. His other hand rests on Crowley's thigh, thumb stroking the fabric of his pants absently.

"Perfect," Crowley whispers, carding a hand through Dean's hair. Dean feels lighter somehow at the praise, and puts more effort into his task. He shoves aside the voice screaming at him that he shouldn't be sucking off a male demon – the voice that sounds an awful lot like Sam.

It takes a while, before Crowley gently pulls Dean's head back and Dean finishes stroking him to completion with his hands. Crowley growls a little as he comes over Dean's chest, then leans back with a sigh.

"Good boy," he tells Dean.

Dean feels a small smile tug at his lips, and he rests his head on Crowley's leg. Sure it feels weird to let Crowley jerk him off, and giving the demon a blowjob was beyond strange, but somehow, the praise makes it worthwhile.

He can count the number of people who've praised him before on one hand. Not counting people he's rescued or helped of course, but people who actually know the whole story. Sam might have said it a few times, but it was more common for the brothers to insult each other. He wasn't sure if he'd ever heard Cas tell him he'd done well. Bobby either.

As for Dad… Dean's pretty sure that Crowley's already praised him more often than Dad ever did.

While Dean's thinking about all of this, Crowley puts himself away and does his clothes back up. He then returns to stroking Dean's head, smirking down at the hunter. He loves the sight of Dean Winchester, big strong hunter, on his knees for a demon. But he can't stay too long – if he does, he might ruin all the hard work he's put into this so far. Dean's still too resistant. The game isn't over yet.

"Come on," Crowley pushes Dean's head up, not unkindly. "There's things I have to do. Can't hang around here all day, as much as I'm enjoying the company."

After he leaves, Dean finds that there are now sock in the dresser as well as the boxers. He pulls on a pair, feeling a little ashamed that socks and underwear are the most he's worn in roughly a month.

-SS-

The state of affairs continues for several more visits – Crowley will give Dean hand-jobs, and Dean will suck Crowley off. Sometimes both at the same time, but it's still always Crowley who initiates things. The demon is starting to wonder if he's ever going to break.

Finally, just when Crowley's starting to contemplate downgrading Dean's menu, the hunter makes a move of his own.

Crowley walks into the room to see Dean curled up on the couch, so caught up in his book that he doesn't notice the extra presence for a few moments. It's enough to put an extra spring in his step – the big bad hunter is relaxing further and further into Crowley's gilded cage. He walks over as Dean stands, noting with glee that it was a trashy romance novel that captured Dean's attention.

Dean takes a deep breath, apparently steeling himself for something. Crowley really hopes that he's not going to be asked to let him go again – Dean hasn't brought up his imprisonment for over a week now.

He's caught a little bit off-guard when Dean bends his neck and presses their mouths together instead of whining at him, but Crowley's not going to argue this. Instead he brings his arms up and runs his hands greedily over Dean's bare skin. He feels the shiver go through the hunter as Dean moves closer, the human's hands slipping inside Crowley's jacket to wrap around him.

Crowley manoeuvres them so that Dean is lying back on the couch, Crowley between his legs, and the two are grinding together. Crowley has left Dean's mouth and is trailing bites and kisses down his neck and across his chest while Dean is moaning beneath him, bucking up and clawing at Crowley's back. It's one of the best things Crowley's felt in a long time, the systematic destruction and enslavement of this previously powerful and respected hunter. He just wishes he had someone to boast to – he's not willing to tell anyone that Dean is here yet, there's too much risk the news could get back to the others.

When Dean comes, gasping Crowley's name, it's enough to send Crowley over the edge as well. The pair lie panting together, and Crowley feels remarkably fulfilled.

"Well that was a pleasant greeting," he finally acknowledges. "What a good boy you are." He sees the slight shine in Dean's eyes, and smirks. Perfect. He sits up on the couch properly, and before he can speak again Dean has shifted, lying so that his head is resting on Crowley's lap. Crowley decides that he likes this turn of events. "You're being a very good boy today. I wonder what we should do to reward such good behaviour?" His hands stroke along Dean's skin again, drawing a contented sigh.

"Could I, maybe…" Dean stars in a whisper, then trails off, seemingly unsure.

"Ask, Love, and we'll see." Crowley's interested in what Dean comes up with. As long as it's not something that could lead to an escape, he'll probably grant it. He wants Dean to think of him as a benevolent figure.

"It's just, I spend so much time here alone," Dean fidgets a little, not looking at Crowley. "It's kinda… lonely. D'you think I could… have a pet?"

Crowley blinks, surprised. Well. That's certainly doable.

"Of course you can," he reassures Dean. "In fact, why don't you go and take a shower, and I'll go fetch one for you."

Dean raises up, slowly, looking as though he can hardly believe his luck. Crowley just pats his head again and pushes him towards the bathroom, then leaves. He's got just the pet in mind.

-SS-

When Dean steps out of the bathroom again, the first thing he notices is that there's another door. Crowley's nowhere in sight, so he goes over to investigate. It opens easily, and Dean lets out a gasp of surprise.

On the other side of the door, sunlamps in the ceiling have allowed a lawn to be grown inside. The walls and ceiling are painted to make it look like an open field, and rolling on its back in the middle is what could only be a hellhound puppy.

The puppy looks up at the intrusion, and runs towards its new friend. Dean picks it up, gingerly at first, then with more enthusiasm as it seems more interested in licking him than biting him. He looks around again and sees food and water dishes near the door, and dog toys scattered all over the room. The puppy licks Dean's neck, regaining his attention, and Dean reads the collar on it.

"Persephone," he smiles. "You're going to be my friend here, aren't you Sephy?"

Persephone lets out a little wuff of agreement, and Dean holds her tight.

-SS-

Crowley doesn't return for a long time. Dean starts to worry when he's slept twice. When Crowley finally walks in, Dean kneels at his feet and throws his arms around the demon, nuzzling into his stomach.

"I'm sorry," he whimpers as Crowley cards a hand through his hair. "Whatever I did I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you leave."

"Hush, Love," Crowley smiles. "You did nothing wrong. I had to offer some assistance to a couple of hunters – they're fighting against Lucifer, and needed a bit of a helping hand. On the plus side, I have a nice new soul in my bank."

Dean continues to cling to Crowley, and Persephone sits by his side, whining at her master's distress. Crowley fishes a doggy-treat from his pocket and drops it to the hound, at least making her feel better.

"So, you like the puppy?" Crowley's pretty sure of the answer, but decides to ask anyway.

"Yes, thank you so much," Dean starts calming down, and smiles up at Crowley. "My dad never let us have pets. Too much trouble, and too difficult to keep in the Impala for long stretches of time. But we always wanted a dog, me and Sammy."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm taking care of you," Crowley nods towards the couch, and Dean lets him go long enough to get situated, Crowley sitting while Dean lies down next to him, head on the demon's leg again. "If you want something, all you have to do is ask. I won't punish you for asking, and if you're a good boy, you'll probably get what you want."

"I'm a good boy?" Dean asks, little more than a whisper. Crowley hears him though and smiles down at him.

"You've been a very good boy so far. Let's see if you can keep it up." With that, he moves his hand from its position on Dean's head, and gently runs his fingers over Dean's lips instead. "Open up, Love, and get them nice and wet."

Dean does as he's told, licking and sucking at the fingers presented to coat them in saliva. Crowley can feel himself start to stiffen as he recalls those lips and that tongue working on him in other places.

When he feels that his hand is sufficiently lubricated, Crowley removes it from Dean's mouth and trails it down the human's back and inside his boxer shorts. He circles Dean's anus and teases it a little, pushing the tip of his finger in before withdrawing again.

"Please, Crowley," Dean whimpers. "Please…"

"Please what?" Crowley asks, continuing the tease.

"Please put it in me," Dean mutters, unable to look up at the demon above him.

Crowley does as asked, pressing his finger inside Dean's arse, sliding back and forth to open him up. The spit isn't doing a great job of lubrication, but Crowley doesn't care that much. It's doing well enough.

"More," Dean begs soon. "Please, more."

"Such good manners," Crowley smirks and pushes another finger inside. "You're being a very good boy, Dean."

The door bursts open then, Sam and Castiel having finally realised where Dean must be. Crowley glares momentarily, then waves a hand – both men are flung against the wall opposite the couch, with a perfect view of what's about to happen. He smiles then, feeling the lack of angelic Grace from Castiel – it was enough to track Dean down, but the little angel won't be interfering in Crowley's plans any time soon.

"So glad you could make it," Crowley relaxes back against the couch. "This is, after all an important visit."

Sam opens his mouth, and Crowley quickly waves his hand again. Gags appear on both captives, rendering them completely unable to sway Dean's mind.

Dean himself looks up, a little confused at Sam's appearance. He doesn't seem to understand why Sam's glaring at them both. Then he closes his eyes and gasps as Crowley presses against something inside of him, something that feels wonderful.

"Please, more of that," he begs, and Crowley laughs.

"Certainly. But you've got me doing all the work – shouldn't you return the favour?"

Almost before Crowley finishes speaking, Dean's undoing his trousers and fishing out his cock. He licks and sucks at it, getting it nice and wet for what he knows comes next. He can't wait.

"That's it, Love," Crowley praises him while continuing to finger him. "Such a good boy."

After a few minutes, Crowley decides that he's teased their spectators enough for now – time to move on to the torture. He removes his hand from Dean's boxers and instead starts pushing them down. Dean gets the idea quickly and wriggles out of his only clothing, toeing off his socks at the same time. He then lets the cock fall out of his mouth and looks up at Crowley with hopeful eyes.

"What do you want now?" Crowley asks him kindly, one hand going up to cradle the back of Dean's head. The hunter sighs and pushes into the contact, causing Crowley to smirk in triumph.

"Want you inside me," Dean admits. "Want you to fuck me. Please…"

"Since you ask so nicely," Crowley leans forwards and draws Dean into a languid kiss, tongues entwining and dancing between their mouths. He can hear the fury as his captives try to make their displeasure known, but feels free to ignore them. After all, Dean's not paying them any attention. "C'mere Love, if you want this you need to work for it."

He pulls Dean over, and the human goes with the flow quite well. Crowley simply sits back, hands around Dean's waist not doing much more than guiding him. Dean, on the other hand, straddles Crowley's legs while facing away from him, grabbing the demon's cock and lining himself up.

Dean lowers himself down gradually, rocking down then up again as he gets used to having something in his arse. It's different to anything he's done before, but he likes it. Likes anything that Crowley does to him, because it's Crowley. He closes his eyes and leans back, finally sitting on Crowley's lap properly, letting his head rest on Crowley's shoulder.

"Good boy," Crowley praises him, and the others can see as Dean's dick twitches at the words. It's already hard, without having been touched – Crowley feels pride that his words and fingers up Dean's arse have been able to produce that. It means that Dean is well and truly his.

"More," Dean lets out a groan as he starts moving his hips, shifting a little to find a better angle. Soon, Crowley spreads his legs a little, Dean's on the outside of his, and pushes Dean forwards gently. Dean catches on, and rests his hands on Crowley's thighs, using them as leverage to raise and lower himself on the cock beneath him.

At this angle, Crowley's cock is rubbing most effectively against Dean's prostate, and the human is soon speeding his motions to get as much stimulation as he can.

"That's it," Crowley encourages him, rubbing his back gently. "That's my boy. Fucking yourself on my cock. You're so hungry for it, aren't you?"

"Yes," Dean whines in the back of his throat and tries to go harder. "More, please more!"

"Such a well-behaved little slut," Crowley watches as Sam and Castiel try to block out what's happening. Well, Sam does – Castiel looks curious, and a little bit envious. As though he wishes he could command Dean like this. "You're my pet now, aren't you? You'll do whatever I ask."

"Yes, Crowley, yes," Dean's panting, and Crowley knows he's close. So he leans forwards, pressing his fully-clothed chest against Dean's bare back.

"Call me Daddy," he smirks at Sam as he whispers into Dean's ear. He knows what a sore spot John Winchester is for his sons. If he can just cross this final barrier…

"Daddy!" Dean cries out, his rhythm not faltering at all. "Daddy, please, more!"

"Good boy," Crowley speaks directly into Dean's ear, and that's enough. He feels it as Dean clenches around him, a chorus of "Daddy, yes, mine" falling from the human's lips as he reaches orgasm, and Crowley wants to howl in triumph. Instead he waits for Dean to slump in his arms, then slides them both off of the couch so that Dean is draped over the coffee table and starts his own entertainment.

His thrusts into Dean are hard and fast to the point of brutality, but the hunter just takes it all, occasionally letting out a moan for more. Crowley knows he won't last much longer, and makes the most of it while he can.

"Mine!" He finally shouts as he comes inside of Dean, drawing a pleased sigh from the practically comatose body beneath him.

Crowley watches as tears fall from Sam's eyes, and the angel glares back at him. Apparently angels get territorial… good to know. He withdraws from Dean and sits on the couch again, waiting for his pet to get his breath back. Once that happens, Dean turns and sits at Crowley's feet again, resting his head on Crowley's leg.

"So," Crowley runs a hand through Dean's hair, smiling down at the now completely compliant human. "What shall we do with the trespassers, hm?"

Dean looks over at them, then back at Crowley.

"Could I… could I keep them? Please?" He asks, unsure of what the answer will be. Crowley just grins at him.

"Let's see how good you can be."