SPN: You Bring the Collar, I'll Bring the Cuffs 2
The next morning, Castiel was busy collating various reports. There were times he really missed being a warrior, but calling the Archangel Sandalphon an ‘ass-butt’ was generally frowned upon. Even if it was all Gabriel’s fault for spiking his drink. The fact that Gabriel had - or at least claimed to have - no recollection of these events proved how drunk he himself had been at the time as well. So instead, he was stuck doing paperwork and ‘learning appropriate interpersonal relations’ until Sandalphon was in a better mood, wh ich was probably going to be a few more centuries. At least the Archangel had accepted ‘Gabriel was involved’ as a reason not to punish Castiel too heavily.
It was getting close to noon when Castiel pulled himself out of his research and decided to check in on said feathered annoyance. He opened his senses, felt the psychic voices of other angels calling to each other, and focussed on Gabriel.
Gabriel, are you finally awake? It wasn’t long before Gabriel’s voice bounced back, chipper as ever.
Hiya Blue-eyes! How’s tricks?
You were spectacularly drunk last night, Castiel informed him. I think you managed to offend deities from every single religion. Congratulations.
Well, I try. Hey, can you come over for a minute? I’ve got something for you.
Will it explode?
Hmm… I don’t think so. I could be wrong though.
Sighing, Castiel put down his books and stepped outside. He launched into the air with a few strong strokes of his wings. It was only a few seconds before he landed in front of the sprawling house Gabriel had claimed back when New York was only just getting settled. Castiel knocked on the door, and immediately heard a shout from within.
“Get in here!”
Castiel let himself in, sighing at his brother’s lack of basic manners. He wasn’t sure if it was an Archangel thing, a pagan deity thing, or just a Gabriel thing. The other Archangels did all have a certain sense of arrogance about them, after all, as did the deities. Perhaps it was because Gabriel was both at once that he so rarely considered others as worth his time really knowing.
“What did…” he paused when he saw Gabriel, standing in his kitchen in all his natural glory. “Gabriel, why are you naked?”
“Because I just woke up,” Gabriel shrugged, as though it were perfectly natural. “I hate sleeping in clothes. Too restricting.”
“The rest of us would prefer it if you put something on upon waking up,” Castiel informed his brother, making sure to look him directly in the eye. He didn’t fancy having nightmares.
“My house, my rules. And I say pants are not mandatory.”
“Right,” Castiel sighed. “What is it you wanted from me?” His gaze flicked curiously through the archway leading to Gabriel’s dining room, where a pair of humans stood. Both were taller than he was, and wore the standard loose cotton pants and plain steel collar of the slaves, which he found odd. Also very distracting, as the two were both taller and broader than Castiel, well-muscled and good looking. Castiel blinked hard and turned back to Gabriel, who had a knowing smirk. His mind flitted back to their previous conversation concerning slaves, and Castiel felt a strange sense of foreboding creep over him.
“Apparently I bought a pair of slaves last night. Brothers, in fact.”
“I can see that. Why?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” Gabriel shrugged. Castiel closed his eyes and hung his head, letting out a huff of breath.
“Of course it did.”
“Anyway, I’ve got no use for two of them. Pick one, you can have it.”
“Gabriel…” Castiel was trying not to lose his temper, he really was. Unfortunately, Gabriel could try his patience like no other being he’d met, and was being deliberately obnoxious now by referring to the human as an ‘it’.
“Seriously. Tall Slave or Snarky Slave. I haven’t tested either of them out yet, but I’m sure you’ll have fun with whichever you pick.” Castiel opened his eyes just in time to catch the eyebrow-waggle Gabriel sent his way.
“Gabriel, I have no need for a slave. I have no desire for one either. We’ve been over this.”
“Okay,” Gabriel shrugged. “Guess I’ll just have to kill the excess.” He lifted his hand and flicked it between the slaves. “Eeney, meeney, miney, mo…”
“Fine!” Castiel growled, seeing the eyes of the slaves. They were trying to stay silent, but he could tell that they thought Gabriel was being serious and were getting distressed. “I’ll take one. Honestly, you and your drunken antics…”
He briefly looked the pair over. Both were taller than Castiel’s six feet of height even with their bare feet, which was impressive. The shorter of the two was a couple of inches taller than him, looking to be in his early twenties, with short, spikey dark brown hair and eyes that were probably green. Maybe brown. It was difficult to tell, really. He held himself like a warrior, and had positioned himself between the other slave and Gabriel. It seemed he had a bit of an attitude, if Gabriel’s brief description had been accurate.
The other was even taller, shaggy hair lighter brown and large trusting eyes that Castiel knew were going to be trouble for him. Despite the slave’s height, he seemed younger than his brother, twenty at the oldest. While the boy had clearly defined fighting-muscles as opposed to heavy weight-training muscles, he seemed to be trying to make himself look smaller, more inconspicuous.
Castiel moved towards the taller one and gazed up at him. The slave kept his eyes downcast, cheeks blushing, as he avoided meeting Castiel’s gaze.
“Are you any good at research?” Castiel asked as gently as he could.
“Yes, sir,” the slave nodded, looking a little surprised. “I can read several languages, and can memorise symbols quite quickly.”
“Good. You can come with me. What’s your name? I refuse to call you Tall Slave,” here Castiel shot a glare at his brother, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Sam Winchester, Master.”
Castiel nodded and tilted his head, surveying him for a moment. He really wasn’t convinced that this was the best course of action, but he couldn’t deny that the young man was at least visually appealing. And if he was telling the truth about his research skills, he could be useful.
“You may have a minute to say goodbye to your brother for today, while I go lecture mine.”
Castiel knew that Gabriel wasn’t really listening to him, so he kept an eye on the two slaves. The shorter one was muttering furiously, while Sam seemed to be smiling slightly. He then wrapped his arms around his brother, which made the shorter Winchester stiffen before briefly returning the hug.
“Just… try thinking things through next time,” Castiel sighed at Gabriel before turning fully back to the men separating a few feet away. “Sam, please come with me.”
“Yes, Master,” Sam quickly followed his new owner, grabbing the small pack that presumably held his few belongings. Evidently, even slaves sometimes had some items that they were allowed to keep.
“Tata Cas,” Gabriel shouted. Castiel felt free to ignore him.
Once they were outside, Castiel wrapped one arm around Sam’s waist and took off, trying to ignore the fact that this was the closest he’d been to a naked body in a few centuries. They landed back on the roof of Castiel’s home seconds later. He released his slave, noticing how tense the boy had gone, and unlocked the door of the house he’d had built on top of the apartment building, tilting his head in an invitation for Sam to follow him.
“This is my - and now our - home. I’ll figure out what I need you to do overnight, you can use today to explore and get used to the place. There’s food in the kitchen if you get hungry. I’ll be in the study if you need me.”
With that, he went back to what he’d been doing that morning, trying to organise his research on societal norms. Sam stayed out on the porch, looking at the house from the outside. Part of Castiel remained aware of what Sam was doing. Despite fighting his growing interest in Sam, Castiel found himself drawn to the boy’s presence. He wanted to know the slave’s reactions to the new environment.
The house took up most of the roof space, though there was a fairly large open area to make landings and take-offs easier. A gate in the railing on the south side of the building led to the fire escape, which meant that Sam could get down to street level fairly easily if he needed to.
Castiel knew when Sam stepped into the house - he could hear the sudden intake of breath. The large glass doors, and the windows taking up most of the two out-facing walls, were currently covered with light blue curtains to protect the stacks of books inside from the sunlight. The room itself was a combined dining and living room, with the kitchen separated by a counter, and every available surface was piled high with books, magazines and newspapers. There were a few shelves holding various objects Castiel had collected over the years, though not many. He wasn’t sentimental by nature, and preferred to have possessions that were actually useful instead of just nice to look at. While there was no TV, there was a long couch in front of a fireplace that sat in the middle of the house, against the back wall of the living room.
To the right of the front door was Castiel’s study, containing more bookshelves, a computer desk with a fairly up-to-date computer, and a large comfortable arm-chair in front of the windows. It was here that Castiel sat working as he waited for Sam to finish his inspection of the house.
Leading off the living room behind the study was a small hallway connecting to the bathroom and secondary bedroom. The bedroom was light and simple, and didn’t get used often. Castiel figured that it could be Sam’s room now. He knew that in theory slaves usually slept outside or on the floor, but he felt that was unnecessarily cruel. It was better for everyone if Sam was well-rested and healthy.
At the back of the house was Castiel’s bedroom and bathroom. The few books in here were all for entertainment rather than research, and Castiel always felt at ease in there, able to stretch out his wings on the large bed and relax his muscles. Gabriel often commented that it was a shame he never brought anyone back to make proper use of the bed and space.
Finally, next to his room and behind the kitchen, was what had been the laundry and now doubled as Castiel’s workshop. He didn’t often make things, but when he did he didn’t want to have to go somewhere else when all of his research was at his house.
It didn’t take long for Sam to finish exploring, as his house wasn’t nearly as complicated as Gabriel’s sprawling place. Once done, Sam went to find Castiel again. The angel watched over the top of his book as Sam started inspecting the titles along the shelves, running his long, blunt fingers along the spines. Sam paused, and pulled down a book on how the American legal system had changed to accommodate the presence of supernatural beings. The slave nodded to himself, sending his hair tumbling across his face and across his eyes, to be quickly swiped back. Castiel allowed himself to relax a little, as his slave was apparently able to keep himself occupied whilst Castiel was busy doing other things. Like staring at Sam in a most inappropriate manner.
Castiel shook himself and was soon engrossed in his research again. He did his best to ignore Sam and paid even less attention to the passing of time. He was only drawn out of his little bubble of reality by an enticing smell coming from the kitchen. Putting his book to one side, Castiel went to investigate and was a little surprised by what he found.
Sam had evidently put the afternoon to good use, and had cooked up what smelled like a delicious meal. Castiel stepped closer to see what Sam was dishing up, and discovered that it was fairly simple fare - meat and vegetables in a stir-fry, with fluffy white rice - but it still made Castiel’s stomach rumble in a reminder that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
“Oh, Master,” Sam lowered his eyes when he caught sight of Castiel. “I, uh, hope you don’t mind… I cooked you dinner. Everything was already in the fridge, so…”
“It smells good,” Castiel commented before Sam could trip over his own tongue. “How soon will it be ready?”
“I was just about to fetch you,” Sam ducked his head. He carefully picked up the plate and carried it over to the table where he’d already set out the cutlery. “What would you like to drink with it? It’s not very spicy, I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
“Water will be fine then,” Castiel sat as Sam fetched him a glass of water. He frowned a little as Sam set down the glass, then knelt at his side on the floor.
“Is something wrong, Master?” Sam sounded nervous. “Did I forget something?”
“Where’s your food?” Castiel asked. “You don’t have to… you should eat whatever you’ve prepared for me, here at the table.”
For the first time, Sam met Castiel’s eyes. Castiel saw that they were hazel, with flecks of green and gold near the iris, far more interesting and captivating than he’d originally thought. It was mostly because the slave was completely shocked, which didn’t make Castiel feel very charitable towards Sam’s previous owners.
“You… I can…”
“You will eat proper meals,” Castiel spoke firmly, “sitting at the table like the human being you are. And I’ll make this clear now, you shall be sleeping on the bed in that room,” he pointed towards the secondary bedroom. “That is your room now, yours to do with as you will. If you want privacy, just go in there. I won’t go in unless you invite me.”
Sam blinked up at him, then slowly leaned forwards to rest his forehead on Castiel’s thigh. The angel froze under the touch. There was something so intimate about the contact, Castiel felt almost guilty for accepting it. Finally, Castiel decided he could place his hand on the back of Sam’s head, though he was still not entirely sure of what was going on.
“Thank you, Master,” he heard and felt Sam whisper against his thigh. He realised then that Sam was trying to show how much those small, human gestures meant to him. Castiel bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to refrain from finding and smiting whoever had owned Sam previously and set such low standards of living for him.
After a few seconds, Sam got himself under control again, and Castiel returned to the food. His first experimental bite went well, and he offered Sam a smile.
“It’s good. Go fix a plate for yourself and join me.”
Sam scrambled to do as he was told, and Castiel felt himself start to relax a little as the pair sat at the table, eating in companionable silence.
After dinner, Castiel went searching amongst his books for anything on the mechanics of slavery and the collars. He could only remember vague pieces of information that he’d heard over the years, and wanted to be sure before he did anything to Sam’s collar. Much to his annoyance, he found that he was already becoming attached to the freakishly tall human.
Eventually, he found the book he’d been looking for. It had been written by the angel who had taken the design of the collars from the demons and adjusted them to suit his own ends. He then curled up in front of the empty fireplace, and started to read while Sam cleared the kitchen and put the leftovers away.
The more he read, the worse Castiel felt. Thanks to the collar, Sam was incapable of refusing Castiel at all. He wouldn’t even be able to deny Castiel entrance to his bedroom. Worse, the collar meant that Sam was now sexually attracted to Castiel, no matter what his previous sexual orientation had been. Although Sam could become aroused by others if Castiel allowed it, he couldn’t have romantic feelings for them. Even his love for his brother now took second place to his loyalty to Castiel. Sam was entirely dependent on his master, and his only desire was now to please Castiel and take care of him.
There was nothing written about how to remove the collar without causing irreparable damage to Sam. It seemed that once a human had been claimed as a slave, they were forever bound to stay that way.
Frustrated, Castiel closed the book and leaned back with a sigh, letting his wings curl around himself.
“Do you need anything, Master?” Came the soft inquiry from Sam, and Castiel looked over the crest of his wing, to where the slave was standing at the other end of the couch.
“No Sam,” he shook his head before glancing at the clock. “It’s late. Get some sleep. I’ll be out of the house for most of tomorrow. You can go through the books in here to find something to keep yourself occupied.”
“Yes Master,” Sam nodded before walking away. Castiel turned to the next book he’d found and started flipping through it, determined to find something useful before turning in himself.
It seemed there was nothing to be found, however, and he frowned as he stood and stretched. He’d check with Isis tomorrow, see if there was anything in her libraries about removing the collar or at least removing the suggestive powers it had. Hopefully that would turn up something a bit more encouraging.
And then perhaps he’d murder Gabriel.
With that thought causing a small smile to creep onto his face, Castiel headed towards his bedroom. Sleep was sounding like an excellent suggestion - although he didn’t need as much sleep as a human would, he still liked to get a couple of hours nestled between his sheets to ensure that he was rested enough in an emergency. It was his warrior background that made him used to grabbing sleep and food whenever he could just in case he needed to go without for a while.
When he got to his room, however, Castiel froze in the doorway. Sam was kneeling, naked, at the end of his large bed. Sam’s muscular form was leaning forward with his shoulders and resting on top of the mattress, his backside raised in invitation. The angel felt something dark and delicious tug low in his gut - desire, he recognised. It had been a while since he’d felt it this strongly. Castiel could see even from the doorway that the slave had something in his arse, keeping him open and ready for penetration.
He could also see several scars where it looked as though Sam had been whipped across the buttocks and backs of his legs in the past.
“Sam, get up,” he ordered. The sight of the scars left Castiel feeling a little ill. If not for the knowledge of what the collar did to Sam’s mind, and the scars that spoke of abuse, Castiel thought he’d be a lot more comfortable about taking part.
“Yes Master,” Sam rose stiffly. Castiel realised that he must have been in the same position the whole time that he was reading. Not to mention the added awkwardness of moving with a plug inserted.
“Did I ask you to do this?” Castiel tried to keep his temper. Maybe he’d said something that the slave had interpreted as wanting to screw him. Or maybe Sam had noticed the fact that Castiel kept sneaking glances at his bared shoulders and strong arms.
“I… I thought it was what you wanted,” Sam’s voice was small, as though he was ashamed of himself for getting it wrong. “Dean and I, we were expected… each night one of us was to service our old master. We were told that it was how things were to be as slaves…”
Castiel closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, trying to refrain from destroying something in a possessive rage. Whoever had owned Sam last had a lot of explaining to do.
“Sam, I don’t… I’m not interested in using you like that,” he decided that the best option would be complete honesty. “Your previous master was wrong. Put your pants back on, and go sleep in your bedroom. I don’t want you to come in here at night. Understand?”
“Yes Master,” Sam quickly slid back into his pants, looking very much ashamed of himself. Castiel shook his head a little, wondering how long Sam had been forced to be a whore for his previous master.
“Sam?” He asked, something else crossing his mind. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen, Master,” Sam spoke softly. Castiel felt his insides clench in disgust. He really was just a boy.
“Go get some sleep,” he stepped aside to allow Sam to flee the room. It appeared Sam was more damaged than he’d thought. Castiel sighed and undressed, sliding into bed determined to have several words with Gabriel sometime in the near future. Once he found out who had owned the Winchester brothers previously, there was going to be trouble.
Previous | Art | Masterpost | Next