After what Castiel likes to call The Great Confession of his eighteenth year, sex with Crowley changes, and while sex with Crowley had been good it was near fucking perfect now.

That first night after Cas tells Crowley everything, Crowley ties him down to the bed, spread eagled and open, lying on his stomach, with some of his silk ties. Crowley whispers that the improvisation is only temporary, and that soon he'll be buying things like rope, handcuffs and other toys designed to drive Castiel wild.

Cas can't imagine it getting any better than this—Crowley gags him with one of the other ties, silk cool and dampening from his mouth. In lieu of his safeword he gives Cas a scrap of cloth, placing it in his clenched fist. If Castiel drops it, they stop what they are doing immediately.

Naturally, Castiel is holding on for dear life to it.

"I know you can be a good boy, Castiel." Crowley's voice comes from behind him. He tries to turn his head to see, but his mobility is limited by the ties that bind him.

"No looking." Crowley growls.

Castiel shivers, can feel Crowley pull apart his cheeks to admire the plug he has in his hole. It had been one of the first rules Crowley had given him—that he'd be ready and prepped at all times to take his cock. Other rules had followed—he wasn't allowed to come without permission, was always supposed to let Crowley know if he was being pushed too far, and that they would be honest with each other.

"Fuck, look at that hole, stretched by that nice fake cock." Crowley practically announces to the room, and Castiel blushes, trying to fight the instinct to squirm.

The plug is being moved in and out of his ass now, dragging and catching on his wet, swollen rim with each thrust back in. Cas raises his ass up, eager for more, eyes rolling back in his head. He moans and cries around the gag in his mouth.

Despite Crowley's order he looks back, sees Crowley gazing at his ring of muscle possessively and animalistic, eyes dark and completely concentrated on the task at hand—so absorbed in observing the way Castiel clenches and milks the plastic toy.

Green eyes flash up, lock with Castiel's wide blue ones.

Oh fuck.

"I told you no looking, Cas." His voice is gruff, tinged with disappointment, and Castiel can't help but want to beg and cry, tell Crowley how sorry he is, how he'll do anything to make it up.

Castiel whines, still mouth still gagged and stretched around the band of silk.

"I thought you could be good for me, Cas. You know that only bad boys get punished." He trails off in a whisper.

Castiel manages a weak nod, and clutches even more on the fabric in his fist.

"I didn't want this to happen, Cas." Crowley says evenly, "But I knew I had to prepare for it just in case you couldn't follow the rules…so I borrowed this paddle from a frat buddy of mine. If it gets to be too much you know what to do."

Castiel doesn't even dare turn around this time to see the wooden board, so it's all the more of a shock when it comes down, hitting the smooth cheeks of his ass. He's still tender from Crowley spanking him yesterday, and it makes him even more sensitive.

"One." Crowley counts out, "Two—" smack "Three" smack "Four" smack "Five, six, seven, eight," smack, smack, smack, smack!

Castiel screams around the gag, but raises himself with what limited mobility he has to meet each blow.

"Fucking beautiful ass you have, gonna make it nice and red. Love watching it shake every time I hit it, Cas."

The paddle slaps down onto him again, this time perfectly hitting the plug still inside him, jamming it deeper inside. Castiel howls, squeezing his eyes shut to try to keep any tears from falling.

Time melts and starts to lose its meaning. All Castiel is aware of is the quaking of his body each time a blow lands, and the sound of his heartbeat. He feels like he's floating above it all, like he's witnessing everything that's happening, and is not actually a player.

He's so out of it that he doesn't even realize it when the stinging smacks end. Even doesn't even flinch or react when the plug is yanked out of him unceremoniously, and Crowley slides in without resistance. Cas's rim is red and puffy, and grips Crowley even tighter than usual.

All Castiel can do is lie back and take it, wrists and ankles held down by experiment crafted knots. He's limp, motionless, and he lets Crowley piston in and out of him like he's just some hole to fuck, and despite how wrong it may be he absolutely loves it.

As Crowley's thrusts become more stuttered and his breathes draw ragged Castiel knows that he's not going to be coming tonight—not after disobeying Crowley….and that's fine, that's right. His cock can lie hard and throbbing beneath him, uselessly collecting precome as Crowley fucks him mercilessly.

Crowley bites Castiel's shoulder as he comes, filling him with come, a warmth deep inside that feels like a reward. He whimpers, registers Crowley untying his hands and legs, taking the gag out of his mouth, leaving him a limp doll on the bed. When Crowley leaves to go get something he doesn't even attempt to touch his cock.

"I want to be able to reward you when you're good, Cas." Crowley says, coming back into the bedroom, "But that also means I have to punish you when you're bad." The older man comes to sit by Castiel's lifeless form, and suddenly Cas's whole system is shocked by the feeling of icy coldness on his cock.

Castiel sobs as his erection wilts and Crowley adjusts the ice pack he's just gotten in order to satisfactorily make sure that his new sub is completely soft.

"You're not coming for a week." Crowley explains, and then proceeds to study and map out the new terrain of Castiel's bruised and sore behind.