So, I decided to upload the three games in different chapters, don't know yet if the 2nd and 3rd games will be also devided or put in one chapter, let's see tomorrow (?)

Or some bottom Cas.

Not sure yet, but gonna write everything I promised. It's a promise :)

Dean thinks that Cas might enjoy their new little habits, THE games a bit too much. Of course Dean has to admit, that he LOVES them. Cas is creative and he IS the devil if it comes to tormenting Dean with his ideas.

This one though? A whole new level of wickedness. It started two days ago, when Cas left again for another assignment. For three days.
The first day Dean woke up to an empty bed and to the smell of coffee and pancakes. He went to the kitchen, only to find it empty. So Cas left already. With a sigh Dean sat down and started to drink his lukewarm coffee and that was when he saw the note on the kitchen table.

He picked it up and read it.
Yeah, of course. No "dear" or any "beloved"… Cas sure knows how to make a guy feel important.
"I left you something on the coffee-table. Three envelopes. Each one of them has a number written on it between 1 and 3. Number one is for today. You are only allowed to open today's envelope. The second one is for tomorrow and the third one is for the last day. DON'T YOU DARE OPEN THEM, earlier SLUT! If you do I'll know and there will be a severe punishment for you upon my returning. I hope we are clear.
So there is an envelope for each day I'm absent and they maintain tasks for you to finish exactly as it is written there. Don't forget, you ARE my little obedient slut and if you do good I am going to reward you. Would you like to be rewarded, slut?

PS.: There is some left-over pie in the fridge, Gabe came by in the morning while you were sleeping and left it for you. He thinks it might help you to survive my absence. Very generous of him. Enjoy it!


Dean is kinda aroused while reading the stiff but very-very dominating words and he is looking forward to the new game Cas came up with. But upon reading the post-script, he can't help but burst out laughing, because really, Cas? Really? The guy is just priceless.

Dean is still grinning with this stupid, warm feeling spreading in his chest as he picks up the envelope with number one written on it and opens it.

The grin disappears and Dean just can't breathe, as every little blood-cell from his upper body goes south.

The note is the following:
"I am going to call you at a random time today, only one ring (if I let it ring more than one time, PICK UP!), so pay attention to your cell phone. As soon as I call you, you have to drop whatever you are doing, find a bathroom or an alley or if you are lucky, you'll be at home at the time, and you have to masturbate. You only have 20 minutes from the second I call you to reach orgasm. However you are not allowed to touch your cock while masturbating, you have to reach orgasm only with your fingers up in your sweet, slutty ass. If you fail, there will be punishment for it."

And that's it.

Dean is kinda happy that he retired last year – after a pretty bad accident which cost several lives, one of them a firefighter, a hot-headed rookie Dean just hired a month previous, and Dean also got injured – and that today is Saturday, because it means no training – yes he is training young firefighters – and no meetings – Dean also works as a freelancer fire-safety advisor for multiple companies now – because the worst thing could happen, is that he is at Sam's place at the time the bastard rings. And that thought actually makes Dean grin.

But the grin is all but forgotten at the time Cas rings. Dean is out grocery shopping – the sly dog sent him a text to buy a few things, and Dean has kinda forgotten about the note. So Dean is standing in the middle of a crowded – it IS Saturday – supermarket, and he spends precious seconds frozen in disbelief.

Then his upstairs brain kicks in and he starts to think feverishly. As to WHERE?

- Son of a bitch!

Impala in the lot? No way. The glasses are pretty much transparent. Driving somewhere? No chance. Bathroom…

- Son of a bitch! – with that Dean drops the basket and bolts for the men's room, which is empty – thank GOD!

He stops dead in his track as he realizes that he has no lube.

- Son of a BITCH!

There is liquid-soap on the sink, so he steals the pump-bottle and locks himself in the nearest stall. He unbuckles his belt and shoves his jeans alongside with his boxers down to his knees, pours a generous amount of soap into his palm – damn Cas it is going to be very uncomfortable in his jeans later – coats his fingers in it, and starts circling his whole, lubing himself.

The first finger slips in easily and he sighs at the feeling. He doesn't have to strain himself to picture Cas watching him, commanding him, like at that very first time, many years ago, when Cas surprised him with his new dominance-game in the kitchen.
He re-lives the memory, Cas's voice all deep and raspy, bossy and thick with want and arousal, watching Dean opening up himself.

He needs to remind himself at where he is right now, and choke back a moan, as he starts finger-fuck himself, crocking his finger inside of himself. He founds his sweet-spot in no time – one of the perks being a perfect submissive in bed – and starts to massage it, almost crying out by the feeling jolts through his body.

He can almost hear Cas's voice, telling him how beautiful he is, how perfect Dean is – another times, where Cas is loving and caring, praising Dean with so much care and love in his voice, that Dean wants to cry, because he believes it.
Soon a second, slippery finger joins the first one, and Dean pick up pace, fucking himself open and wide in earnest, forgetting where he is, and just enjoying the feeling. It's a miracle he can keep his mouth shut – another perks of being a perfect sub, he can be silent the whole time Cas fucks him if he's been ordered to do so – but he manages.

His cock is achingly hard, but he pays no attention to it, his mind – ok, not so much his mind, but reflexes – are concentrated on the pleasure caused by his fingers, and another picture of Cas slips into his imagination. Cas, fingering and rimming Dean open, his wicked tongue doing things to Dean. Dirty things. With the image in his head, he adds the third finger, and fucks himself hard and fast, hitting his own prostate with each thrust.

Cas's voice is so clear in his head, that it's almost real, encouraging Dean, telling him again and again, that he is a needy little slut, but Cas loves it, and is very proud of him. His cock is leaking pre-come and he has to support himself by leaning into the door, holding himself up with one hand, the other one otherwise occupied.
He needs to come, like yesterday. He needs his release and he wants to feel Cas inside, fucking him raw and open or slow and tender, he is past caring about 'how' he just needs it. Period.

With a last image popping into his head, Cas ordering him to come now, he does. Hard. Fucking himself through it lazily and moaning softly while biting into his arms flesh to keep quiet.

Soon he is spent and content, but his legs are wobbly, week at the knees, so he closes the toilet lid, pulls up his underwear and jeans, and sits down on hit, heavily. He is still trying to catch his breath, when his phone rings again, but this time it doesn't stop after one ring – thank god! – so he picks up.

- Hey, Cas.

- Dean. – Cas's voice is just a low growl, he sounds aroused. – Tell me! Everything!

- I made it, Cas. I'm at the men's room in that stupid supermarket; my ass is still leaking the soap I used for lubrication. I had three fingers up there, and my mind was full of images with you. I wanted you inside of me Cas, so badly…

Cas's breath hitches, and Dean can hear him moan. Yep his beloved husband is enjoying himself right now, and at the thought Dean's cock gives an interested twitch, but yeah. Both, Dean and Little Dean are way past of being a teenager. Not going to happen. Sadly.

- Oh, Dean. After I rang you I started to stroke myself. I imagined you somewhere in public, fucking yourself open for me, and I almost called you up again, just to hear your voice while you are coming. I am so hard for you Dean. I am still very-very hard. I wanted to hear your fucked out voice and come while you are telling me every dirty detail. Oh God, Dean I miss you so much…

Cas's voice brakes and he stops talking, and Dean is listening to his little, desperate moans at the other end of the line.

- Cas, it was so good. In my mind you were rimming me, fucking me until I forgot my own name. I could feel your tongue inside of me, then your cock rubbing against my prostate. I could hear your voice telling me to go faster, I've heard you praising me, and telling me how much you love my ass… And I came so-so hard by imagining you ordering me to come…

Dean can hear Cas losing it. He growls, deep and low in his throat, then cries out and Dean can see him behind his closed eyelids – when did he close his eyes? – clearly as if Cas was there with him. Dean loves watching Cas coming. The guy lookes just way too beautiful. The rapture, the complete devotion on his face, sucking on his lower lip, all pink-cheeked and just happy and trusting.

Dean can hear Cas regaining his breath, and asks:

- You good, Cas?

- Yes, Dean. I am good.

- Huh! That was hot, dude! Like seriously hot… Didn't except you calling me for this little after-play.

- Wouldn't miss it for the world. Picturing you doing those things I told you to yourself, preferably in public…

- Speaking of. You little ass! You sent me that message about the grocery on purpose. Am I right?

- Hm. Seriously? Yes. I was kinda hoping you'd be bored enough by now to go out as soon as you received my message.

- You manipulating little dick! – but Dean knows very well that Cas can hear the amusement in his voice.

- Hmmm, I'm not sure about that Dean, but you might need some memory-refreshment after I got back home.

- Huh?

- Which part of my dick is little in your dictionary?

At that Dean cracks up laughing, and he can hear the smile in Cas's voice.

- I have to go Dean, have a nice day and give my regards to Sam if you'd decide to visit him… - there is a sudden silence, and Dean freezes.

- Don't you DARE! – that asshole of a husband of his is capable of calling up Sam and telling him to invite Dean over, and give him some shitty explanation that would make Sam FORCE Dean to go over.

The only answer he gets is a low, dangerous chuckle and he can picture the devilish grin accompanying it on that smug bastards face.

- You sure?

- I think I'm gonna stay home for today, you evil son of a bitch!

- Hm, let's see about that, Dean.

- Cas?! – the line goes dead. – Cas! Cas you little fucker, don't you fucking DARE…

But there is no answer from the dead line, and Dean has the feeling that he is screwed. He found the idea earlier hilarious, but right now? He is a bit worried. He really should stay home today. And tomorrow. And after that.

But then, he remembers. Cas's envelope with number 3 written on it. And his Monday evening business-dinner. DAMN!

Somebody entering the wahsroom shakes him up. He needs to clean up a little and leave. Probably very fast. He spent almost half an hour in there and abandoned his basket in the middle of the supermarket. Yep, not customer of the month.

But on the whole way home, he just can't wipe that stupid - almost goofy, if the rearview-mirror is anything to go by - grin off his face. This IS going to be fun.


Fluff vs Smut level? Whaddaya think? :))