Sammy's Plaything

Chapter 2

 

Dean felt like he was in his own personal Hell. He was at Bobby's and his old friend seemed unable to give him any answers. Apparently Bobby was just as shocked as he was at Sam's defection. Dean had never felt more useless than he did now, holed up in Bobby's decrepit living room with a stack of unfathomable books and bottle of Jack Daniels. This would be so much easier if they had managed to figure out the demon's name. This was pointless wading through piles of obscure prophecies that were like encrypted riddles. The letters were beginning to swim off the page and Dean felt a headache coming on. Nausea washed over him waves.

 

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Sam had initially felt a similar sort of despair rifling through ancient satanic books certain that the needle he was looking for was not to be found in this haystack. He had felt that way until he stumbled across a dusty old book that had manacles embossed on the cover, then he knew he was on the right track.

 

The book was an ancient tome with the unlikely title of "Tricks from the desk of the Marquis de Sade" and although it was doubtful that the marquis had anything to do with it, the author of book was most certainly a powerful witch with a solution to Sammy's problem. Amidst tricks on the proper care of dungeon equipment there was a chapter on slave making by way of mind control. There were some lines of Norman (old French) that had to be spoken and some magical ingredients that had to be burned.

 

Sam experienced a surge of triumph as he summoned one of his demon footmen to fetch the necessary supplies. There were some distinct advantages to having servants at one's beck and call.

 

He smirked in satisfaction and set about the task of remodelling his bedroom and refurbishing the adjoining room into a kinky playroom. Sam worked feverishly through the night, stopping only to call for more coffee or tools. He was a man with a mission. The duties of his new post of demon general happily forgotten.