Disclaimer: I own nothing.

And, I'm apparently not yet done with our favorite King of Hell! He's too much fun, honestly.

And I'll be nice to him. I promise. I won't break his little heart like I did last time.

Now, sit back and enjoy.

Love always,

Avoline

Crowley wasn't entirely sure how he wound up in this position, or why, but he found himself cuffed to the floor of the dungeon, every thread of clothing gone. Even his ankles were secured to the floor by demon cuffs. And yet, despite the humiliating situation, it was starting to turn him on except for the fact that the person who put him there had yet to return. What she left for, he wasn't sure. He knew she had said something about "getting a few toys."

Well, that wasn't very helpful, now was it?

He heard footsteps above him, and arched his body enough to see her approaching, with a handful of items that he was sure were going to bring such sweet torture. He spotted a riding crop and some sort of ring like thing, as well as a disturbingly large vibrator. His cock twitched, both anticipation and slight fear swirling withing him. Oh, how he hoped she didn't plan on using that on him.

"Sorry," she greeted, stepping around him and into the light. His eyes raked over the blood red corset and black thigh-high boots. Blood rushed south as he caught sight of her panties, or the tiny scrap of material that passed for panties. He laid back flat and watched as she arranged the "toys" on the nearby table. "Had to figure out an outfit that would get me into the proper mindset. Wanted to do this right." She turned, the ring in hand. "Do you know what this is, Crowley?" He shook his head. "Don't be shy. You're still free to speak."

"Rina, if I knew what that was, I wouldn't be worried that you're holding it," he answered. "Same as if I knew what your plans for that vibrator were, I would probably relax a little more." She giggled at his words.

"It's called a cock ring," she informed, leaning a hip against the table. "It restricts blood flow from your dick, keeping it rock hard for as long as you're wearing it. So, no matter if you've already blown your load or not, the fun will go until I feel it's time to end or until you say the safe word. Which is the next topic." She stood and strutted to his side, crouching down and cupping his cheek. "Give me a word that you will use when it becomes too much." He furrowed his brow in thought, searching for anything that would do the job.

"Juliet," he replied almost sadly, turning his deep brown gaze to meet hers. "That'll kill the mood for me anyway." She smiled and stroked her thumb over his cheek bone.

"Okay," she murmured, her voice laced with sympathy. "Just say that when it's too much, and I'll stop immediately. Promise." She stood, returning to the table and picking up the cock ring. "Now, I'm going to clip this on, and when I do, the fun starts. You give up control, only speaking when spoken to or to give the safe word. You can back out now, and I won't be mad." He snorted at the notion.

"And give up the chance to play out your fantasy," he stated. "Not a chance, Rina." Her silver eyes smiled at him as she approached again. "I can handle whatever you throw at me."

"We'll see," she tossed back, crouching down to reach for his now limp member. He moaned as her gloved hand caressed him, stroking so gently, so tenderly. Then he heard the click of the cock ring, and knew that the gentle side of Rina was gone for a little while. The scene had started, and he was at the mercy of her whims. His eyes quickly darted to the riding crop, praying that she wouldn't be too harsh.

"Ground rules," she barked, bringing his gaze back to her. "For every time you speak out of turn, that's the number of times I will bring you to the edge, but not let you come." His eyes widened in disbelief. "Noises are allowed, but no words unless I have spoken to you and ordered you to. Should you get too noisy, I will gag you. You are at my mercy, and if you act properly, I can be a very kind mistress." She stood, striding over to the table, and to his slight horror, grabbed the riding crop.

"Please, be gentle," he breathed before he could stop himself.

"One," she counted out, and he cursed inwardly. "Don't fret, lover. I won't hurt you." She turned back to him and slowly paced around him, the leather tip grazing his skin as she circled.

And fuck, it felt good! The smooth leather against his heated skin, running over his nipple and instantly hardening the small nub. His manhood swelled with blood, and he had to bite his tongue to keep the noises at bay. If he let out even a whimper, it was sure to be followed with words, and that would prolong his torture. He wanted her to enjoy it, but fuck him if he was going to suffer while he was at it.

He yelped as the crop slapped the skin above his half-hard manhood, yet the pain shot a bolt of pleasure through him. He wasn't sure when she had meandered to his hip, showing him just how far his mind had wandered.

"Ya know," she began, her voice cold as steel. "When I think about everything you've done both as a human and a demon, you've racked up quite a list of punishable offenses." Her eyes met his, and he saw the fire within them. His favorite little human had come to life, and the sheer power held in that stare stiffened his length. "I figure it's earned you at least twenty lashes, for starters." His pulse raced at the thought. That alone could bring him to use the safe word and end it. He could probably withstand ten, but any more than that was pushing it.

"Or..." He perked at the sound of her purr. "I could take you to the brink of orgasm five times before finally letting you come. Though, that sounds a bit more agonizing." A wicked grin crossed her face, and he swallowed hard with trepidation. "I'm going to start counting, and you've got until the count of five to make your choice."

Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Twenty painful lashes to his still bruised, or being denied the bliss of orgasm five times. Christ, neither one sounded great, but he had to choose.

"One-Mississippi."

His mind raced with the pros and cons. The lashes were nothing new to him. He'd suffered worse at his mother's hand. And in hell. But he had no clue where the crop would land. This was only his first time playing. Would she be so cruel as to land a blow or two to his genitals? He knew it was possible, but the idea of suffering through blue balls for God only knows how long...

"Two-Mississippi."

"Lashes," he blurted, his chest heaving with anticipation and, surprisingly, arousal. "Please, Mistress, give me the lashes." Her eyebrows shot up to the black hairs of her hairline.

"Well, then," she cooed. "Someone figured it out quick. And already so well trained for a first timer." She tapped the end of the crop against her palm, circling him again. "Close your eyes. I don't want you seeing when I strike."

He whimpered, but did as he was told. Play the part, and he'd get a reward. That was the basics, and he knew it. They'd been over the foundation of a successful BDSM relationship last night, and he had promised he that he would give it a try. He didn't want to disappoint Rina, not after they'd come so far in their relationship already. This was her little fantasy, and he didn't want her to ever feel unsatisfied.

His teeth clamped down on his lip as the head of the crop smacked against the bottom of his foot. Fucking hell, that hurt! Yet his erection twitched, becoming even harder if it was at all possible. He forced air through his nose as his eyes remained closed. What on earth was he thinking?

Another strike, this time to the inside of his left thigh, and way too close to his balls. He yelped this time, the pain more intense than before. He wasn't sure he could do it. Despite how baldy his body wanted it, as made obvious by his painfully hard pecker, his mind was beginning to panic. He was so close to giving it up. All he had to do was say the word, and it would end. She would release him, and the scene would end.

The image of her disappointed face drifted behind his sealed lids, and he bit back a groan at the three quick strikes given to his stomach. He would not disappoint his mistress. No matter how hard the blows got, he would grit his teeth and deal with it, because it was bringing her pleasure. And that alone was worth the pain that was being inflicted. He was sure there would be bruises where the crop was striking him, but he couldn't bring himself to really care.

Five quick blows stung his chest, and he trembled as the pain washed over him. Halfway done, he told himself. Halfway done. At least with this.

"I almost expected you to use the safe word by now," she teased. "Especially after that second blow. But you've hung in there very well. Might just stop here and give you a little reward." He let out a little sound at that, hoping she wasn't toying with him. "What do you think, slave?" He turned his head towards the sound of her voice, but didn't dare open his eyes.

"If you see fit, mistress," he answered, his accent thick with lust. "My poor, tortured cock needs attention." He felt her fingernails rake across the fresh welts on his chest, and he hissed in pain.

"Give me one good reason to give that pathetic excuse of a dick my attention," she sneered. He tried not to take it personal, cause he knew good and well she adored his length.

Play the part...

"I promise, mistress, be it unworthy, it will still bring you such great pleasure," he breathed, shocked at how easily she had reduced him to begging. The King of Hell didn't beg.

Oh, but his libibo loved it. Knowing that she was getting so much pleasure from it, and how skilled she was at reducing him to pleading words, had him harder than iron and praying that she would even rub his manhood with the riding crop. He'd beg again if she requested it, anything to get her to simply touch the throbbing shaft between his legs.

"Beg again, my Scottish lover," she ordered. "You beg so prettily." He whimpered, simply to add to the effect.

"Please, mistress, I'm begging you," he pleaded, almost meaning it with how aroused he was. "Please, show mercy. Your loyal servant can only withstand so much torment without some relief, even if he is unworthy of it."

A moan tore from his throat as her leather clad hand wrapped around his member. He felt his balls tightening with release, and whimpered again when she tightened her grip on him. Just when he was on the edge of release, she pulled away from him. He yanked against his bindings, letting out groans of protest and almost opening his eyes.

"Open your eyes, and I'll do it again," she growled. He stilled instantly, taking the threat seriously. God, his groin ached with the need, but he didn't want to risk his balls exploding from being denied again. "So well trained already. Might keep you a while." A hopeful sound passed his lips before he could stop it, and if he was being honest with himself, he was enjoying submitting to her. The anticipation of what she would do next, never knowing what she was thinking. He found himself craving it now.

He gasped at the vibrations against his right nipple. His body arched towards it, and he moaned and she pressed the vibrator against his heated skin. It slid downwards, sending the shock waves south. He squirmed beneath the attention.

"So needy, aren't you, Crowley," she sang, running the toy down his leg and away from where he really wanted it to go. "Good thing I'm a firm, but kind mistress, huh? Now, tell me, where does the King of Hell want me to place this?" He groaned at the shocking wave of arousal caused by the object being pressed to the bottom of his foot.

"Please, mistress, I want it inside me," he blurted. She chuckled as his body tensed at the realization of what he just said.

"You're not quite ready for that, my brave little slave," she purred. "But I think you've earned a little taste."

He cried out as the vibrations were centered to his opening. A helpless sound clawed at his throat, and he was powerless to stop it from coming out. If only she would push it in, make him take it like the slut he was sounding like. He didn't care if he was ready or not, cause, fuck, he wanted it inside him.

His breath caught in his throat as a warm, wet heat enveloped him. He couldn't stop his hips from moving towards that wonderful feeling. He heard her chuckle, and realized that it was her mouth causing the wonderful heat.

"So responsive," she murmured as she released his length, making him whine in protest. The vibrator disappeared as well, and a weight settled over his abdomen. "Open your eyes, Crowley. Look at me."

He pried his eyes open to see her sitting on him, her body bare for him to see. He found himself panting, staring at the beauty that he knew he didn't deserve. She was far too good for him, and he was a half-cured demon who had made it his job to bring Hell on Earth. He had taken innocent lives, tricked people into selling their souls, and tortured his fair share of said souls. Why would someone as pure as her want anything to do with him?

"You've done so well," she whispered, impaling herself on his shaft, drawing a moan from both of them. "Now, I believe I've drawn this out long enough." She rolled her hips, and he forced himself not to come. She felt like paradise, her lean form riding him, and in his eyes, she was a goddess. He stopped himself from thrusting into her, cause she had not told him that he could.

Her hips moved faster, and he smirked at how loud she was becoming. He knew it would take no time for her to reach release, not with her on top. She always enjoyed riding him, and the angle was perfect for him to watch as he disappeared within her.

"Together," she breathed, pulling him from his lust-filled haze. "We come together." He moaned as her walls fluttered around her, right before she screamed her release. He let go shortly after, filling her with his seed.

The game was over, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to let her go. He was addicted now; to her, to submitting to her, and to having her in his life. She had tamed the King of Hell, and he was okay with that. He would even deal with being cured if it meant he could just be with her. He'd give up the throne for her.

"You did so good, Crowley," she cooed, and he smiled as she undid the cuff around his neck. "I don't care if Sam and Dean get mad. I trust you." She kissed his chest, undoing the cuff at his right hand. "Just don't leave. Don't make me regret this." He chuckled.

"Not sure I could," he answered. "Besides, where would I go? I'm addicted to you." She smiled against his skin, and he barely registered the other wrist cuff hitting the floor.

"Not sure I would be able to find as good a Sub as you," she countered, lifting off of him and removing the cock ring. He let out a whimpered as her fingers grazed his over sensitized member, and she released what could only be soothing sounds. "It's okay. We're done for now. No need to be scared." She moved down to his feet, removing the demon cuffs and rubbing the raw skin there. "Such a wonderful submissive. Don't want to ever let you go. Not going to ever make you leave."

He closed his eyes to hide the tears. She wanted him to stay. He didn't deserve her, but she wanted him. His heart swelled with love, something he never thought would happen again, as she crawled back up his body and snuggled into his side. He turned and pulled her closer to him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't secure us a nice, comfy bed," he joked. She giggled into him.

"I'll talk to Sam and Dean, see if we can't get you into a proper room," she responded softly. "If not that, I can at least get a mattress down here so that you aren't stuck lying on the floor. Not sure why they felt the need to cuff you." He smiled.

"They don't trust me to not find a way to undo the demon trap," he sighed. They were both exhausted, and he cursed himself for not demanding a bed so that she would be comfortable. "Hopefully I can earn their trust one way or another." His fingers carded through her ebony hair, and he glanced at her face to find her asleep. His smile grew at the peaceful expression gracing her features.

"At least I have your trust, my beautiful Rina."