Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.
Author's Note: *Holds out hands.* May I have some reviews, please?
Chapter Two
Three demons stood looming in the door way, their black eyes gleaming. All women, dressed as if they were dinning out, with their trim bodies modeling skimpy cocktail dresses and hair salon styled. The brunette in the middle wearing a silk navy strapless was the one to speak first. "Rise and shine, boys! It's play time."
The strawberry blond at her right, sporting a flimsy ruby, red little number giggled and whined jumping up and down like a bratty three year old begging for serial in a supermarket, "Oh Mag, I want to go first! Let me go first. Pleeeease?" 'Mag' smiled a mischievous grin at the bouncing bimbo.
Bobby rolled his eyes in annoyance. "I suppose a cup of coffee would be asking too much," his voice sounded more horse than he remembered. The demons cackled at that.
"And I bet you would like some eggs, bacon, and homemade blueberry pancakes with that order," Mag laughed.
"Well, if this is the way we're gonna play, you tieing me up like a breedin' mare, than the least you could do is make a guy breakfast." More hackles and cackles spilled out of their painted mouths.
The raven haired demon to the left, began to step into the room towards where he kneeled, high heels squishing in the muck. If he wasn't nervous before, Bobby was now.
Stopping right in front of the hunter, her body blocking his view of Castiel, who had still not showed any sign of stirring, the woman spoke, her eyes full of malice and black as hell's darkest corner.
"You're funny," the bitch sneered. "Tell me, did the Winchesters get their delectable since of humor from you, or their real daddy?"
Bobby grit his teeth in response.
The painted whore caught on. "Aw, did that hurt your feelings? Poor baby." She kneeled, her dress dipping into the rancid waste soup. Taking his hat and tossing it aside, which peeved Bobby even more than being tied up, she cooed: "Now don't be that way. What happened to all the clever quips, huh." It wasn't a question. Moving her face not an inch away from his, she smiled. "You're the 'Funny Man,' right? So, tell me a joke…while you're gargling." With that, the sadistic bitch shoved Bobby face first into the macabre stew.
The bold stench assaulted his sinuses, making his eyes burn and tear. Stringy textures and gelled lumps invaded his mouth, coating Bobby's tongue and sticking to his teeth, while his nostrils flooded in the ghastly pool. He was going to drown.
"V, play nice," Mag directed, her voice sounding both pleased and annoyed, as if this 'V' was merely tickling the hunter. Bobby's helpless confined torso was abruptly swung backwards, allowing the toes of his boots to slap against the slopped floor. Gasping all the while in the stinking air. It was too much. The lack of oxygen, the flavor of blood, cum, and feces was overwhelming for his stomach, which forced out all of its contents it had gained in the last 12 hours or more.
V gracefully stood, her footing easily finding traction on the slippery surface. She never stopped smiling. Turning her head, she glanced over to the unresponsive angel. Making a quite un-lady like moan as she crouched almost on top of Castiel. "What a delicious treasure our boys have found." Her hands began to roam over the sleeping celestial's chest, then moved south. "They might deserve a treat after this."
Bobby was disgusted, well, with everything. "I doubt fondling an angle of the Lord, let alone a unconscious one, will get you anywhere but back into that pit." He cracked a smile when she stopped and looked back at the him. "Just an observation."
Here smiled broadened. "Oh darling, the things we will do to the both of you, hell wont dare take us back."
A pathetic whine interrupted the light conversation, "Maaaaaaaaaaag! I asked to go first."
"She's right, V. But you both know the rules. No desert before dinner." Mag's chiding drew the black haired whore away from Castiel. "Now, lets get these boys cleaned up." Smiling, the brunette motioned to someone in the hall out of Bobby's view point. "The fun's about to begin."
_ One Hour Later
Castiel screamed in agony, eyes shut to the horror around him. His vessel's body felt as it were being roasted from the inside out. His blood could have been boiling, all he knew. His grace was dwindling. Strapped to a chair, hooked up to a variety of iv's and catheters pumping him full of holy oil with a dash of hell hound blood to ignite it, the angel could still hear his fellow captive curse at the demons.
"YOU SONOFABITCH! YOU SICK FRIGGIN BASTARDS!" Bobby's voice was becoming more horse and gruff, but still as boisterous. Tied to a chair facing the tortured angel, and what all was being done to him, the old hunter regretted ever answering Dean's phone call. Like a damn father to those boys, he was always there to pull their sorry asses out of the fire, but where were they.
The two male demons in white coats turned back at him to smile. They were obviously enjoying every friggin minute. Returning their focus on the writhing Castiel, one of them fiddled with a bag leading to one an array of tubing stuck strategically in the angel's body. The poor bastard screamed again, and Bobby heard the high squawk of the celestial inside.
"That's enough, boys." Mag announced walking past the hunter towards the demented doctors. "I believe our guest is more compliant now." Cocking her had towards Bobby, "Don't you believe, Mr. Singer?" She winked an eye, then turned her attention to the slobbering, exhausted mess of a Holy entity. Cupping his chin with one hand and running her fingers through Castiel's dark locks. "Don't worry, baby. I believe you are going to enjoy our next game. Right, ladies?"
Bobby jerked his attention to the open doorway to his left side. The two bitches he met earlier stood with excited smiles smacked on their faces. Oh God. Dean.. Sam, where the hell are you?