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broken-typewriters · 3 years

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#9 for Dany 😈😈

9: strangle my muse

This is not going to be what you expected. More action than whump, and of course really high on the angst. (If you ask me, it's really good)

And Dany surprised me in more ways than one.

Content / warnings: Lady whump, failed escape (?), some red flags of abusive relationships in the beginning, gun violence, strangling; references to dubcon, conditioning and pet whump; strong language (Dany gets emotional)

Ridley Lordin, B and referenced Leo Luciano are @what-a-whump 's wonderful characters and used with permission.

Thank you so much for asking this, @distinctlywhumpthing , because wow, character development.

[Dany Masterpost]

[Prompt list (still taking them for all my characters)]

Scene (1,500 words) under the cut

I look fabulous. I don't even need to look at myself in any of the dozens of mirrors decorating the ballroom. He wanted all eyes on me. And he gets what he wants.

Ridley's hand is resting on the back of my neck, fiddling with the thin white leather strap that he has me wear instead of the usual collar. It's somewhat reassuring. It means it's not that kind of a party.

My dress is tasteful, short but not revealing, tailored to fit so perfectly it doesn't matter that it's too white for my pale skin. It's summer. I should be tanned from days spent in the park, on the tennis court, by the sea. That's not what my days are, though. I spend them inside, nowadays, locked up in the bedroom of Ridley's penthouse, and I can earn the privilege of open curtains.

Sometimes, to my own shame, I do.

He presses a kiss against my neck. "Smile, princess", he breathes into my ear, his fingers lingering on my throat for a moment too long. "You know how Daddy likes you."

Pleasant. Pretty. Pliant. Have I ever been anything else, I wonder? Or have I only ever played roles others wanted from me, anyways?

I force my lips to curve into a smile. Of course I do. I'm tired of fighting. Ridley hums contently, before his gaze is caught by something - someone - else, a middle-aged woman in a red pant suit. Governor Hawkins. I know her, I know them all, the rich and powerful, from the events I've attended by my father's side, and I hate how they don't seem to spend a second thought on how I'm suddenly with this man they all must despise.

"I'll be right back, baby girl", Ridley purrs. "Don't move. Bee Bee?" He snaps his fingers. "Come."

B casts me a short glance, as if unwilling to leave me, before his eyes turn flat again and he trots past Ridley, scanning the crowd for potential threats.

I feel oddly uncomfortable around them, alone among hundreds of people. How many of them know? And how many just refuse to see?

A hand on my back makes me flinch. "Danielle", someone says into my hair. "Let's get you out of here."

Instinctively, I pull away and look over the crowd for Ridley. He doesn't like others touching me. Fuck, I don't like anyone touching me.

"Shhh", the man hushes and grabs my arm again, and only now do I turn to look at him. Matthew Carlson. My father's finance guy. There's a deep frown on his face and a pressed urgency in his voice. "We'll get you away from him."

"I-" I am cut off by a hand over my mouth from behind.

"Hurry", Carlson hisses.

An arm closes around me, drags me back through a door to the kitchen. White tiles and metal surfaces, some employees that seem to have been paid to look away. I struggle against the person holding me, try to bite the hand in front of my face, but they seem to know what they're doing, and I don't.

I want to get away from Ridley, I don't want him to see this. I want to be good, and I want to be free.

"Don't fight, Danielle, this is all for your father's best interest", Carlson says behind me. "You're his legacy."

Ridley will kill me for leaving my spot. Somehow Carlson and his man don't make me feel safe at all.

A cool draft brushes past my naked legs, as someone pushes open a door and they guide me outside into some back yard, stumbling down the flight of steps in my high heels. There's another man waiting near some dumpsters, under a flickering lamp. He's dressed entirely in black and looks me down with a cold frown.

Somehow, nobody hurries any more. There's no car waiting to get me away, no explanation, just silence and the damp darkness of a muggy summer night.

I step back towards the back door, but the man behind me doesn't move.

I turn to Carlson and lift my chin. "Please, leave me alone", I say firmly. "I don't know what this is, but I don't want it."

"Hmmm", Carlson hums, and there's a coldness to his tone that lets me shiver. "I bet you won't, but it's too late for that. You're a liability, Danielle. Your... involvement with Lordin, with Luciano, these... videos, they don't make you look good. You weaken your father's position. Or rather, ours, trying to save what is left of it."

"I'm a fucking prisoner", I hiss. "You fucking know what happened to me, because you let this shit happen to my father, and now I'm the one being sold and tortured and paraded around and hurt, while you fuckers think about your business? This is my life, you-"

"It won't be any longer", he cuts me off harshly, and nods to the man behind me. "Sorry, Danielle, it's not personal."

Something wraps around my neck from behind. Thin and soft and raw at the same time. I scream, but all that comes from my lips is a garbled whine.

The man pulls the rope tight and yanks me back. I thrash, my limps flailing uselessly. Desperately, I fight for air, but there's nothing. Nothing but pain and dread and a dawning understanding. I will die. These fuckers are killing me. My fingers cramp around my neck, fingertips brushing over rough rope, unable to grasp it, buried too deep into my skin.

A shadow moves in the corner of my eyes, a blur within a larger blur. I hear a sharp snarl, a muffled impact, a scream, as I tumble back, fall, landing on something soft. Air floods my lungs, and I inhale greedily, my breath coming out in ragged huffs.

"Do not touch her", B growls at my side, and lunges at the other men.

He came for me.

Under me, the black-dressed man is struggling, whining as he grips his hurt arm and struggles against my weight on top of him. Fucking asshole. I clench my teeth and steady my hand with my other arm, as I ram my elbow into his throat. He stills once more.

Something solid is pressed into my back. His gun, tucked under his jacket. Still coughing, I roll over to my side to grab it. Should've just shot me, I think grimly. Stupid gangsters, trying to make a show of everything.

I struggle to get to all fours and cast a glance over to B. Carlson's guard is laying on the ground, unmoving. Carlson himself is down as well, B sitting on his back, wrestling back his arm, growling something low and inaudible, until the arm snaps.

He doesn't see the guard move beside him. A knife flashes in the guard's hand.

I shoot. Once, twice, three times, all aimed steadily at his chest, from a close distance.

Never stop after one shot, Dad has taught me, years ago. You shoot to kill. Make sure they stay dead.

This one is.

The silence after the shots is deafening.

"Oh, princess!", Ridley exclaims behind me, from the kitchen door, his voice perplexed, almost delighted.

Another fit of coughing shakes me, before I turn around, weakly. Ridley is standing in the doorway, upright, his too familiar silhouette framed by light, arms folded, as he is taking in the scene, smug and confident as always.

My eyes are trained on his chest. Carefully, almost tenderly, I lift the gun once more.

A shadow falls over me, blocking Ridley from my view. B. I haven't even heard him move. But he's standing there now, right between my and my target, wordlessly looking down on me from unreadable eyes.

"Please", I breathe. "Please, B." B knows, knows what Ridley does to me, asks of me, of him. He knows he deserves to die.

He doesn't step aside. Instead, he extends an open hand. I hate him. I hate myself. My stomach drops, as I secure the gun and rest it into his hand.

Wordlessly, B steps back and hands the gun to Ridley. "Nice try, baby girl", Ridley mumbles, as he checks the gun. "Wouldn't hurt Daddy now, would you?"

Casually, he steps down the stairs and considers the two men, groaning on the ground, me, kneeling next to them in my now stained white dress.

With his free hand, Ridley gently brushes over the fresh marks on my neck. "Which one did this?", he asks calmly.

I look aside, at the man in the black clothes, and Ridley steps over, lifts the gun, points it right between his eyes.

Another shot rings through the yard.

A strangled sob escapes me.

"B, tie that other guy up", Ridley says, but his eyes are on me. "Leo will deal with him, later."

He gets to his knees in front of me, pulls me into an embrace, the gun still in his hand. I sink against his chest, trembling with silent sobs, each breath hurting in my throat.

I had almost been free. One way or another.

"Shhh, now, baby girl", he whispers, as he gently cradles me against his body. "You're safe with me. I've got you."

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broken-typewriters · 3 years

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I’m desperately searching for content, so please drop me your recommendations for (spicy) lady whump, everyone!

Here’s some of mine: @sableflynn with basically everything she writes; Out Unseen more spicy, but her Katia series is also wonderful. @deluxewhump with her box babe Belle (the last position on this list). @whump-tr0pes with Vera and David&Nia.

I’ve also recently discovered @whump-ventures, @actress4him and @whumpopology s lady whump content (not nsfw (?) but very nice!), which I definitely have to look into more!

(And to add on this, I myself write lady whump as well, one-shots as well as some things that could get series (all 18+): [Casino], [Marissa], [Alicia], many of which are collabs with @whumping-newbie))

Special callout for the subgenre of spicy lady whump with lady whumper, which I only found at @deluxewhump (see above) and write myself to keep the content coming (Marissa/Lydia).

If you could recommend more of any of this, I’d probably die of happy.

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broken-typewriters · 3 years

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Isa series 2- Food

TW- general creepy, captivity vibe, language

Isa series master list

Previous part

He turned and left the room, leaving Isa alone with her thoughts. She knew exactly why he wanted her, she could provide information about the resistance and her power would make his regime even more terrifying. She wouldn't give him either. She was strong.

After some time, he reinterred the cell, barring a tray of food. Isa was suddenly aware of her own hunger and thirst, she hasn't eaten a thing since she had been caught and felt weak and dizzy as a consequence, unassisted by the gag which made her so very thirsty. She had long given up on standing up to retain her dignity, now resigned to sitting up, her legs to the side.

The general strode towards Isa, stopping about a metre away. "Are you ready to behave yourself?" He asked, a patronising tinge to his voice. Isa nodded. It was a lie, of course, but she really really wanted a drink. "Good."

He removed the gag and placed the tray infront of Isa. She stared blankly at it, a sandwich, protein bar, glass of orange juice and bottle of water. An unusual spread for a prisoner. Frankly, she thought it was drugged.

"Eat." He said, staring at her,

"Firstly," Isa remarked, "I don't trust you," she was suddenly feeling very bold, "Secondly, how am I meant to eat when my hands are cuffed behind me?"

"You raise valid points," He smirked, "Why would I poison you, or drug you or whatever it is you expect? You are of no use to me dead or unconscious. But, to ease your mind," he walked over and took a mouthful of everything on the plate, "See, perfectly safe. And, regarding your hands," he gestured, "I don't trust you yet. Eventually I'll replace them to give you some freedom of movement, but you've already shown that you can be quite the handful. I certainly won't be leaving you without any iron for a while. I will feed you, if you ask very, very nicely,"

"You bastard!"

"Now, now. That wasn't nice, was it? Ask nicely or you'll have nothing. Tomorrow I might not feel so generous."

Isa sat in silence.

"Well then, I guess I might aswell put this back in," He approached her with the gag,

"NO!" She screamed, taken aback by her lack of control, "Please, please let me eat, or drink at least,"

"Alright my dear," He approached her and she shivered slightly, pulse raising as she looked into his cruel eyes.

"Open your mouth." She complied.

Utterly humiliated, Isa accepted the food and drink placed into her mouth by his rough fingers, lingering too long on her lips. She would have rather starved but she needed to get out. Having failed to get her intel, she at least needed to survive. Plus, this wasn't too bad, he wasn't hurting her, just embarrassing her, exerting his control.

"I love seeing you like this," He commented, stroking Isa's face as she took bites of the sandwich held by her mouth, "So powerful and yet so defenceless. In those cuffs, there's nothing I couldn't do to you," Isa shuffled backwards, "Don't worry my dear, if you do what I ask, you needn't suffer at all. I'll even give you privileges: your own room, clean clothes, swap those cuffs for dainty bracelets. When I trust you completely, you won't need anything to dampen your power at all, you won't even try to use it against me. Won't that be nice?"

"You're a sick bastard," Isa spat, "I'll never side with you, you might as well kill me." He took the food away suddenly, "That's where you're wrong, dear. That's where you're wrong."

#intimate wumper #tw wump #wump #tw captivity #food tw #writer #writeblr #writing

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broken-typewriters · 3 years

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Isa series, Master list (to be updated)

General TW, wump, lady wump, intimate wumper, captivity, handcuffs, language

1. Captivity

2. Food

#isa series

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broken-typewriters · 3 years

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Isa series

Part 1- Captivity

Isa series master list

TW- wump, lady wump, intimate wumper, hand cuffs, language (let me know if I need more, but this part is mostly build up)

Crumpled in a heap of despair, Isa breathed shallowly, her ragged breaths making her panic clear. Her limbs were so heavy and her mind craved sleep but she couldn't rest. Her head filled with thoughts of her friends.

She had failed them.

She was sent to gather information and return to base, yet here she was, in the General's house, confined to his cell. She had no idea how she got from the mansion to this prison or who brought her here, only that he would be with her soon, and he wouldn't be happy. Besides her panic, Isa was in pretty good shape. Her hands and ankles were cuffed together, with a chain on an anchor keeping her to one spot. She probably had enough room to stand, if little else. It could have been worse. She was exhausted, but she wasn't in pain.

She would be soon.

Desperately, Isa fought to contain the unhelpful thoughts, cling to her sanity. She was strong. She could fight him. She could kill him, she just needed to wait for him to visit her, stand up and grab him.

Anxiously she fumbled to her feet, struggling with the restraints of her cuffs.

The cuffs....

Heavy, metallic, tinged with rust

Fuck...

He'd put her in iron cuffs, she had no magic, she couldn't fight him, he would kill her. The waves of panic took over again, leaving her heaving into the concrete and losing all control. Sweat pooled over her body and she pulled at her restraints, rubbing her skin raw where the metal touched her. She rode the wave of panic until she collapsed into the concrete below her.

As she lay like that, helpless and afraid, she heard the turn of a key in a lock. Immediately she staggered to her feet and bit her tongue to control her panic in a final attempt to maintain her dignity.

She was strong.

She could handle him.

She would not break.

She braced herself as the door swung open.

"Hello beautiful," The General's eyes met Isa's and she quickly shifted my focus to the ground, "Did your little organisation send you to do their dirty work again? I'm not surprised, they're all cowards."

"No!" She surprised herself with her boldness, "They're not cowards, they're amazing and they're coming to get me and-" She was cut off,

"Nobody's coming my dear, they wouldn't even know where to look. Don't you remember driving here? I guess the drugs work better than I thought."

"N-No You're wrong"

"You could be very useful for me, my dear. Do what I need and we could be very happy together,"

"Go fuck-"

"Oh no Isabella, you will be polite. I have a big job for you."

"How did you know my-"

"Your name?" He chuckled, "I know everything about you. Your name, where you grew up, when you committed your first murder. I've been waiting for you Isabella. Your friends' little resistance won't stand a chance when you give in."

"I'll never-"

"Oh you will."

Silence echoed through the tiny chamber as the man reached into his pocket. Pulling out a cloth gag, he strode towards Isa as she squirmed as far back as her manacles would allow. As the man stood over her, Isa's feelings of fear intensified. She was so tiny compared to him. She couldn't fight with these cuffs holding her back, she could simply hold still as the gag was forced into her mouth.

"I'm done talking," He said, wiping the tears from Isa's delicate face with an unexpected gentleness, "It's time for the real work to begin."

Next part

#tw wump #tw captivity #tw hand cuffs #wump #intimate wumper #writeblr #writer #writing #isa #isa series

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