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Language:
English
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Published:
2025-09-17
Words:
370
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
6
Kudos:
28
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Put Together All Wrong

Summary:

How Sam Winchester is treated by Lucifer in his cage. A small slice of how Lucifer broke Sam Winchester in Hell.

Notes:

Mind the tags, this is exactly what it says on the packaging, brutal, non-con and the kind of torture I imagine Sam would have suffered at Lucifer's hands.
TW: Body modification, implied rape, extreme sensory deprivation

This is where my muse took me after researching cock cages for a far more light-hearted Kinktober fill. It's a part of SPN I don't often go to.

Work Text:

The cage locked around Sam’s length with a painful finality as Lucifer pretending to look like Dean put it on him. The steel ring around the base of his cock was too tight and the solid steel tube lined with metal spikes all around the inside of it pressing hard against his cock even when flaccid. Reflexive, agonized tears sprung up and rolled down Sam’s cheeks from blinded eyes, as he tried to breathe through it. Always tried and never succeeded, not anymore in any case.

It turned out the angel wasn’t done yet, Sam shuddered when he felt the lubricated tip of the sound at his urethral opening. “No, no, no, please, please, I don’t want this.” A hand tightened brutally around his already bruised neck to choke off all further attempts at vocalization. Sam’s lips were parted, gasping for air he wasn’t getting, didn’t even need yet Lucifer made him feel like he did. Reduced to an animated plaything, his humanity stripped away as soon as he made the choice to jump into the chasms of Hell so that Dean would live and the world would get to see another day.

A world that Sam couldn’t even remember for all the horrors and torture he’d been put through.

The spikes dug even deeper the longer Lucifer deprived him of oxygen, a trained response like that of a guard dog, except Sam was too weak to even guard himself, much less protect anyone given he was blinded, muted, deaf and presently no more than a torso with stumps for arms and legs. A lump of flesh that whimpered and moaned when its owner decided to pay attention to it.

The voice was in his head, he knew his eardrums had burst long ago and yet that sultry voice of his tormentor was present, far beyond the physical world in every sense of the word. It whispered twisted declarations of love and affection right into Sam's very consciousness while the fallen angel wielding it pulled Sam apart into every last atom that made up his body, mind and soul. Only to put him back together all wonky and wrong, over and over and over again until there was nothing left.