Day 9: Part II
A/N: WARNINGS: Very, very graphic torture, rape, and sexual violence in Day 9: Part II.
Day 9: Part II is written such that it can be skipped and you won't miss any plot if you don't want to read it. Turned out more graphic than I had anticipated, but I kept it because I think it's true to what Sam went through. The show heavily hints that Sam was raped, and I think it is the most personal bodily violation Sam could experience after possession.
Lucifer ran his forked tongue up Sam's shaking body, standing to reach his head. He sucked on Sam's earlobe and winked at Dean. Sam's face held no expression; clearly he was used to this. Dean's stomach heaved but had nothing left to offer. Lucifer twisted his fingers into Sam's hair, smiling as Sam jolted when he jerked his head around. He danced his hand across Sam's chest, gently tracing out the contours of Sam's anatomy. He then dragged his nails down Sam's stomach, drawing blood as he slipped his hand under Sam's jeans. Lucifer pressed himself into Sam's body, moaning lightly as he nuzzled Sam's shoulder.
A silent tear escaped Sam's eye and his captor caught it with his tongue, following the trail up his face. Forcing Sam's eyes open, he dragged his tongue against them, flicking his tongue under the eyelids. Sam's body had long since stopped shaking; it was petrified, but the terror in his eyes tore into Dean. What was worse, the resignation on his face told Dean this had happened so many times before. Sam didn't even try to resist. Dean wished he were back in Hell under Alastair's knife. It would be a sweet mercy compared to watching his baby brother being molested by Satan. Suddenly, Lucifer stepped away from Sam, letting him fall. He returned to his chair and leered at Sam, smiling. "Sam's clearly not in the reciprocating mood, so looks like I'll have to provide some encouragement." He rubbed at Sam unceremoniously with his foot. Dean's entire being ached to rip the lewd expression off the devil's smarmy face.
A quiet voice broke him from his violent fantasy. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll do better." It boggled Dean's mind that such a tiny sound could come from his brother's gigantor body. "I'll do whatever you want."
Lucifer smirked and lifted his gaze from Sam. "I know you will, you disgusting slut, but what about Deano?" He rose and stalked towards Dean, who became paralyzed with absolute horror. "I mean, if one Winchester is that delicious, what about the other one?"
"Don't. Touch. Me." Dean gasped, his throat closing up.
"Not even if I look like this?" A busty blonde sashayed towards him, her perfect features filled with lust. Her blouse left little to the imagination and a hot pink thong peeked over her jean shorts.
Dean forced himself to laugh. "God what is this, a Hooters?"
The girl—wait, no, Lucifer—frowned. "That's very hurtful, Dean," she—he—chided. "Fine, what about this?" The girl's image blurred momentarily and before him was a familiar face with dark hair and expressive eyes.
"—Lisa?" Dean whispered. Then she was on him, hugging him, and his awareness of the situation drained away. Her hands clasped around his neck and he was immersed in her gentle scent. Before he could react, her soft hands worked their way under his collar and began caressing him. Her lips brushed against his teasingly and desire flowed into him. She slid one hand up his face and the other down his side, exciting him like only she knew how. She drew his bottom lip into her mouth as her hand went to the front of his pants, inhaling sharply as she felt him. Dean instinctively pulled her into him, anticipation warming his body. Her lips pushed eagerly at his and he greedily accepted.
The freezing caress of a forked tongue was not what he expected and he couldn't move as he remembered what was actually happening. He tried to withdraw but Lucifer held him tight, his tongue aggressive in Dean's mouth. Lucifer returned to his previous visage. The vessel's stubble chaffed painfully against Dean's skin as the devil pressed their faces together, unrelenting. Dean's blood drained to his feet, fear and disgust taking its place. Lucifer pulled back and laughed, pleased with Dean's reaction. Lucifer deftly unzipped Dean's jeans and reached inside, drawing a howl from Dean. But the cold touch was gone as soon as it had begun; something had distracted the devil.
Sam was tugging at Lucifer's legs. "Please, Lucifer, I'll do whatever you want, please just don't hurt Dean." The desperation made his voice ragged. "I'll be quiet, I won't make a sound, I'll be good. I'll behave this time. I'll be your whore," he begged. Lucifer pondered the scene playing out before him.
"You'll be my little three-hole slut?" Glancing at Dean, he relished the horrified recoil this drew from Mr. Protective Big Brother. How could Sam be a — and suddenly Dean decided he didn't want to give that any more thought. As Sam forced out an affirmative, Lucifer decided the intimate degradation of his brother would be far more profound than Dean's personal humiliation. He smiled. "What do you say?" Lucifer chided.
"I'll do it."
Annoyance crept into his voice. "You know the word I want to hear, Sammy."
"Y-yes," Sam stammered, looking down at the ground.
Lucifer beamed triumphantly.
"Okay, Sammy," he agreed. He pushed Dean away and forced him into his obsidian throne. He grabbed a handful of Sam's hair and pulled him up. Lucifer puckered his lips and looked at Dean while Sam latched onto his lips. Sam's hands were shaking slightly at his side. Lucifer withdrew and slapped him hard across the cheek. "I expect a little more inspiration than that, bitch," Lucifer growled. Sam mumbled an apology before lifting his arms and drawing him into a passionate kiss. His hands pawed at Lucifer's head, fluffing the blonde spikes delicately. The movement did not seem mechanical, but rather filled with tenderness and affection. Dean tried to look away but Lucifer glared at him, and Dean found he could no longer blink, speak, or move. Sam brought his tongue down the devil's neck, moaning lightly. It occurred to Dean that he couldn't tell if the sound was for Lucifer's benefit or for Sam's. His stomach churned. "I'm getting impatient, Sammy," Lucifer said bluntly. Frantically, Sam's hands dropped and began loosening Lucifer's pants. Lucifer looked to Dean and smiled. "He knows better than to keep me waiting. He's a quick learner. Only took him a year to stop fighting," Lucifer drawled, then returned his attention to Sam.
"On your knees," he ordered, forcing Sam's head down. Sam obeyed and fell to the ground, pulling down the vessel's boxers as he went. Lucifer pushed his hips forward and Sam accepted him. Sam choked as he took him in and Dean burned with rage. Lucifer threw his head back and laughed, controlling Sam's head with his hands. He pulled Sam's hair with such vigor Dean could see hundreds of loose strands intertwined in his fingers. Sam brought up his hands to caress Lucifer, clearly following a well-established routine. The devil whispered sweet nothings to Sam, alternately praising him and berating him for his performance. Sam did things Dean had only seen in the freakier pornos. He shuddered to think about how Sam had learned those moves. Lucifer suddenly grabbed Sam's hair and yanked him up, eliciting a surprised cry of pain from Sam. Lucifer leaned in and whispered in Sam's ear. His shoulders sagged but he nodded obediently.
Sam slowly walked over to Dean and held out his hands. Dean tried to speak but found he still could not make a sound. "Spit," Sam half-ordered, half-begged. Sam carefully avoided his brother's eyes, despite Dean's desperate attempt to console Sam in any way he could. "Spit, Dean," he repeated a little more forcefully. Dean shook his head, unwilling to be a participant in any way. "Please, just do it. The faster we get it over with, the better." Dean caught Sam's eyes and felt his soul wither. He recognized so little of his brother in this man's face. He obliged and collected as much saliva as possible to give to Sam, who quickly returned to Lucifer.
Lucifer watched the exchange with unhidden satisfaction. "Why Dean, I would almost say you enjoy this based on your contribution. How generous…" He took Dean's offering into his hands and smiled as he coated himself in Dean's spit, wiping the remainder on Sam's face and in his hair. Lucifer crossed his arms and bit his lip, waiting.
His head bowed, Sam dutifully began to undo his belt. "You didn't say Luci may I!" Lucifer snapped. He backhanded Sam with immense force, twisting his body around and sending him flying to the ground. Blood poured from his nose, the fragile tissue smashed. Sam quickly moved to all fours and tried to stand, but Lucifer held him in place with an outstretched hand. Lucifer slowly approached, enjoying the dread filling both Winchesters. He knelt down behind Sam and ran his hands down Sam's sides, eliciting a violent chill that wracked Sam's spine. He placed his hand on the small of Sam's back and fire erupted from his fingertips. The young man could not hold back the whimpers of pain as flames engulfed his body and his clothing burned away. His hair caught fire and Lucifer allowed some it to char, just enough so that the lurid smell of burning hair permeated the air. He grabbed the smoldering locks and pulled Sam's head back as he thrusted forward into his victim with no preparation, and Sam could take the torture no more.
Bound by Lucifer and physically unable to look away, Dean was sure he would never forget the sight before him and the accompanying scream that would haunt his every living moment. Sammy! As if having his soul violated by the devil hadn't been enough… Sheer anguish slashed through him and he felt his spirit spilling out the wounds. Dying is preferable to this. He was powerless and Sam… God, Sam! How could Sam ever be okay again? Searing pain encircled Dean's chest.
"Remember to breathe, boys," Lucifer cooed. Sam choked on the air, and Dean was too gripped with misery to perform the basic function necessary for life. He struggled to inhale, and instantly regretted it, the acrid scent of burnt hair and skin testing his gag reflex. Lucifer laughed as he bore into Sam, the desperate cries for mercy music to his ears. He sunk his nails into Sam's shoulders and dragged down, bright red streaks swelling up immediately. "It's funny, they call these angel wings…" He tilted his head, an oddly curious expression on his face. Then he sighed. "You know mine look so much better on you, Sammy. Don't understand why you gave them up…" He shook his head sadly then brought his hands up and repeated the action, adding more 'feathers', before placing his hands firmly on Sam's hips. "And now, you'll pay dearly!" Anger billowed within the archangel and he slammed Sam's body against his own, ripping into Sam's abused entrance with unbridled ferocity. Lucifer sensed the unparalleled torment radiating off his wayward vessel and he relished it.
Red began to flow from Sam and Lucifer frowned. After a few more savage strokes, he pulled out and let Sam's shaking body collapse to the ground. "The blood makes for too much lubrication. Guess I rode ya a little too hard, too fast this time, Sammy. Maybe I was showing off for Deano." Lucifer winked at the older Winchester. Detaching from reality, a part of Dean wondered how many times Sam had been through this, but a much larger part didn't want to know. This was absolutely unbearable. Lucifer pulled up his jeans and a small glimmer of relief ignited in Dean. He needed it to be over. He prayed it was over. But Lucifer had other plans.
He squeezed Sam's ass then started drawing circles on his back with the blood dripping down his thighs. "What do you say Sam, got one more round for your master?" Sam made no reply over his muffled sobs. "Sammy, dear? I need an answer, I want to hear that little word…" Ragged breaths filled the space. Impatient, Lucifer rolled Sam over with one hand, the other outstretched to receive the blade currently whizzing across the room. It landed in his palm with a soft thud. His fingers closed slowly around the hilt, almost dancing with anticipation.
He laid down on Sam and brought the blade to his face. He traced the tip over his eyelid and began applying pressure as he moved down Sam's cheek, a faint red line by his eye growing to a deep gash that revealed the human's jawbone. Sam's sobs once again became cries of pain. The devil brought the blade up the other side, this time starting lightly under his chin and scraping the bone of Sam's eye socket. He put a hand over Sam's mouth to silence the screaming. "This will stop if you say 'yes', Sammy," Lucifer offered, his tone patronizing. "Or I could see if Dean wants a taste." Sam froze then shook his head frantically, ignoring the blade grazing his eye with every movement. "Good little bitch," Lucifer praised and removed his hand. "Now say it."
"Yes," Sam squeaked, his throat on the verge of collapse.
Lucifer smiled. "I never tire of hearing that word…" he murmured lazily. "But you make me work so hard for it. And I really resent that!" he ended angrily, gouging the knife into Sam's eye socket. He flicked the blade and freed the bloodshot eye from its tether. The hazel orb rolled down and Lucifer caught it between his thumb and forefinger, ignoring the primitive wails coming from Sam. He pressed his fingers together and the eyeball exploded, dripping chunks of vitreous fluid falling into Sam's mouth. Sam gurgled in disgust but Lucifer firmly clamped his hand over the agitated lips. Sam swallowed compulsively, anything to get the revolting taste out of his mouth.
The younger Winchester was soon distracted as Lucifer carved a deep ravine from Sam's eye down his body, blood erupting from his cheek, chest, and gut. The blade reemerged and lingered over Sam's navel, the sharp edge gently liberating blood from Sam's skin. Lucifer hummed with indecision, biting his lip as he rubbed at the hardness swelling once again beneath his jeans. Lucifer let out a frustrated groan. "You're just… so delicious, Sammy." He placed the knife to the side and crawled over the shaking body. He pinned Sam's wrists by his head, smiling as the battered creature tried to struggle out of his grasp. He stared at Sam, their faces inches apart. "I just can't get enough of you…" he moaned. "And the fact that we have an audience?" He whooped with delight. "I can't believe you were foolish enough to allow this to happen, Sam. What must strong, resilient Dean Winchester think of you now? What will he think of you when I'm done? You're pathetic; we all know that. You can't hide it from your brother anymore! He's put up with all your failures and your mistakes for so, so long, and my, they are legion! But now he knows the truth of the matter. It's not that you have failed time and time again, it's more than that. You are failure, Sam. You're weak, disgusting. You're trash. Good for nothing but my entertainment. Go on and ask your brother. He knows it too: you'll always be my bitch."
"D-dean?" Sam gasped. He couldn't see Dean, but the silence that answered the devil's proclamation was all the evidence he needed. His resolve withered and his body relaxed as he stopped fighting.
Dean watched as Sam went limp and he wished more than anything he could scream his support for his brother and pound it into his brain. Dean had loved and would love Sam no matter what. He still loved him when he left for Stanford, when he drank the demon blood, even when he released Lucifer. Dean would always forgive Sam his trespasses, even if Dean wasn't as upfront about it as Sam. The fact that Sam didn't know that in his heart of hearts made Dean want to die. He would remedy that first chance he got. If he got that chance… Dean couldn't fathom what Sam was going through despite his front row seat. This was far worse than he could have imagined.
Lucifer picked up the knife, running the blade through his fingertips absentmindedly as he eyed Sam's prone shape. A smile spread slowly on his lips and Dean dreaded what that meant. Light emanated from his fingers and the metal became white hot. A predatory grin lit up Lucifer's face as he brought the weapon down to Sam's crotch. Sam whimpered as he felt the heat but didn't otherwise react. He knew better. He just wanted this to be over.
Grabbing Sam's cock, Lucifer lined up the edge of the knife with the slit and pressed steadily forward, slicing Sam's flaccid member in two. Shrieks of agony unlike anything Dean had heard, even in Hell, tore away at Dean's sanity. The blade kept moving up and the smell of cauterized tissue wafted towards Dean. Flashbacks of Hell mixed with his vision and his brain felt about ready to burst from the torment. Returning to Sam's bellybutton, Lucifer plunged the knife into Sam's gut and rotated the blade, opening up a perfectly sized hole for Lucifer's next attack.
He flung away the knife and shimmied out of his clothes, wasting no time in sinking himself into Sam's freshest wound. Sam gasped then howled with pain. Blood poured from his body with every stroke. The crimson liquid seeped out of his mouth between ragged breaths and rasping screams. Lucifer reached up and closed his hand around Sam's throat, silencing all but the sickening sound of the devil thrusting into Sam's guts. Lucifer opened his mouth to speak and Dean abruptly decided he preferred the near-silence. "See, Dean, Sam knows he's my bitch, but every so often he forgets. Like any good owner, I dutifully retrain him and show him the error of his ways. He always falls into line quickly, good little obedient dog. Aren't you Sammy?" He brought his hand up to caress Sam's face but nothingness stared back at him. Sam was barely hanging on to consciousness. Shock paralyzed every nerve in the human's crumpled body. Lucifer had succeeded in breaking the youngest Winchester yet again and he cherished the win.
Finally, Lucifer cried out in pleasure, a blast of red flaring through his eyes before he closed them in satisfaction. Once opened, he grinned at Dean's crippled expression.
The hold on Dean's face released and he clamped his dry eyes shut, which were soon relieved by the tears flooding in. Everything in him wished for death. "Maybe you should have a turn next, Dean. He's been trained so fucking well." His voice hitched as he sighed happily. "Hope you don't mind sloppy seconds… well, fourths," he jeered. Satisfied, he stood and kicked Sam away like a piece of trash and smiled. "Gives a whole new meaning to vessel," he said, amusement dripping from his voice like the blood from so much of Sam's body. Dean looked at his brother's face against the dirty floor and saw a single cold, dead eye staring at nothing.