Tumgik
#tw whipping
serickswrites · 4 months
Text
Krampus
Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, whipping, drowning, blood, wounds, drugging
Team Leader sagged heavily in the chains that kept them standing at attention at the whipping post. Their back was raw and painful, though they were sure the bleeding had stopped hours ago. They could barely keep their eyes open. But they had to. For the team's sake.
"I'll make you a deal," Whumper had said once they finished whipping Team Leader. "I will only hurt your team, but I won't kill them if you can keep awake."
Team Leader had barely been conscious at that point, but they couldn't let their team down. They clawed their way to consciousness and fought to keep their eyes open.
But it had been hard.
Watching Teammate One get waterboarded for an hour had been difficult. Hearing Teammate One's drowning sounds had shaken Team Leader to their core. But they knew that Teammate One would live. They could keep awake for Teammate One. Teammate One wouldn't drown.
Watching Teammate Two be whipped at another post had been painful. Each crack had Team Leader jumping. Each cry of pain had them cringing. Because they knew how painful it was. How much pain Teammate Two had to be in. But they stayed awake.
Whumper stopped whipping Teammate Two and left Teammate Two unconscious and in chains at the whipping post. "Why are you still awake?"
"I won't let you kill my people," Team Leader said through gritted teeth. "I can stay awake."
Whumper stood just in front of Smallest Teammate. "You can, can you?" They grabbed Smallest Teammate by the hair. Smallest Teammate cried out, unable to grab onto Whumper to stop being dragged. "You'll stay awake so I don't drown this one? They are so pretty. It would be lovely to watch the bubbles escape their lips. Lovely to watch them go still in the water."
"I won't let you kill them," Team Leader growled.
Whumper dragged Smallest Teammate to a large tub in the center of the room. They shoved Smallest Teammate in, clipping the cuffs to a ring at the bottom of the tub. Satisfied that Smallest Teammate wouldn't escape, Whumper walked over to the table of instruments at the side of the room. "We'll just see how long you can stay awake after this, Team Leader."
Team Leader strained to see what Whumper had grabbed and was walking towards them with. "I won't pass out. I won't fail my team."
Whumper turned on the hose attached to the tub as the walked by. Team Leader could hear Smallest Teammate struggle against their cuffs to get out of the rapidly filling tub.
"We'll just see about that," Whumper sneered at Team Leader. They plunged a needle into Team Leader's arm before Team Leader could reply.
The room spun as Team Leader had a rush of blood to the head. "What....what did you give me?" Everything was hazy and they couldn't blink through the haze.
Whumper smirked. "Just a little something they use to sedate people before surgery. It should be taking effect any moment now."
Team Leader's heart raced as they could feel unconsciousness begin to suck them under. They couldn't fall asleep. They couldn't let Smallest Teammate drown. "I...I...I..." but the words died on Team Leader's tongue as it became heavy in their mouth.
"Sleep tight, Team Leader. Don't worry, I'll be sure to record Smallest Teammate's bath for you. We can review all the beautiful, final moments together when you wake."
And though Team Leader raged against the dying of the light, they couldn't keep their eyes open. They prayed that Whumper wouldn't let Smallest Teammate drown. That they wouldn't wake to a world without Smallest Teammate. Team Leader's grip on consciousness faded to the sounds of Smallest Teammate struggling to keep their head above water.
102 notes · View notes
montammil · 1 year
Text
“Whumpee, we’re not done with your punishment. Do you want more lashes? I’ll be more than happy to give them to you if you don’t come out.”
Whumpee doesn’t reply, only cries harder into their hands, back pressed against the door.
“It’s cute you think I can’t break down this door, but then again, I’d hate to ruin it. So you know what? I’ll just wait. It’s either you starve in there, or you face me.”
Whumpee’s breath hitches when they feel Whumper slump against the other side of the door.
“I just hope you realize you’re the one making things more difficult. Don’t go blaming me when your punishment is a lot worse when you come back out.”
716 notes · View notes
breadandbloodybutter · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
🎄🎅 Merry Crisis - It's been a hell of a time! 🎁🎄
See you all next year. 😈
48 notes · View notes
whumpdrivethru · 4 months
Note
Hello again! Can I get a Parting Words Regret trope, where Whumpee and Caretaker got into a bad fight, and Whumpee storms off, only to be kidnapped and is never seen again? I would also like some extra guilt on Caretaker's side, please!
-- @whumperofworlds
Thank you for choosing the whump drive through, enjoy your order!
Warnings: kidnapping, whipping, pet whump, self destructive behaviour
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I never wanna see you again!"
Caretaker didn't realize how much of a lie that would be.
Whumpee stomped off without saying anything, holding up a middle finger. And then they weren't seen again.
It'd be an understatement to say Caretaker was stressed. They'd lost countless hours of sleep over it, filed a police report, some friends sent messages asking about meals. They got ignored.
At this point there was close to nothing they wouldn't do just to see Whumpee again.
Whumpee on the other hand was in a similar boat. All they wanted was to see their friend again.
"C'mon Whumpee, time for today's walk," Whumper said, walking into the room with a leash. Whumpee didn't move. They didn't feel like moving.
"On-nly if-"
CRACK
Whumpee screamed as they got whipped with the leash, Whumper kneeling down and securing it to their collar, hoisting them up in a way that made it hard to breathe.
"I said time for a walk. You don't get to make demands here."
Whumpee sobbed, being tugged along through the halls of Whumper's massively luxurious house.
They stopped at an outdoor lounge on a balcony, Whumper sitting and having conversation over tea with a friend while Whumpee was forced to kneel next to their chair until they were done. Whumpee leaned towards the railings of the balcony, watching the people below.
They were yanked away from the railing to be put back in their room for getting too close to the edge while Caretaker shook their head.
Their friends were right, they needed some sleep. There was no way Whumpee had just been looking down at them from a balcony at Best Friend's house.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You have been served by Anath! :]
31 notes · View notes
breannasfluff · 5 months
Text
Glass in the Light
AO3 Link
Whumptober: Glass Shard Whump Rating: 5/5 TW: Torture, forced harm, whipping, blood/injury, temporary character death Mipha's Grace, resolved ending, no permanent damage
“Do it again.”
Twilight doesn’t move, just stands frozen. The thug doesn’t even have a sword, but he’s got an iron poker he rests in the coals. He’s already shown he has no qualms about using it.
“I said, do it again.” He reaches for the poker.
The rancher moves. Pulling the whip back, he brings it down on Wild’s bare back. The champion grunts and Twilight clenches his eyes shut. An angry burn on his lower back is the previous work of the poker and brought a scream.
“Harder.”
“He’s bleeding!” Wild’s back is striped with welts and now the overlapping marks are breaking open, dripping blood.
“Harder.”
Twilight whimpers as he pulls back the whip. Wild tenses as it smacks down on his skin. There are too many thugs, even for two heroes. Others sit or stand in a circle and watch, jeering. Even if Twilight could overpower the two holding Wild and the one with the poker, there are at least 30 more crowded in the cavern. Wolfie will be no help here. They just need to draw this out long enough that Time and the others can track them down.
“Again.”
Over and over Twilight is forced to raise the whip and bring it slicing down on skin already riddled with scars. Wild won’t want anything to do with him after this. Twilight doesn’t want anything to do with himself.
Hurting his brother like this? It’s sickening. He whimpers nearly as much as Wild.
“Stop.” The thug steps forward and takes the whip. Twilight heaves a sigh of relief and Wild slumps. The thug gestures and another man steps forward with a bowl of water. It splashes over the champion’s back and washes away the blood. Wild screams, thrashing in the grip he’s held in, back arching away from the water.
“What did you do?” Twilight surges forward, but the thug whips the poker out of the fire and holds it inches away from Wild’s skin. Slowly, the rancher steps back. “What did you do,” he grits out.
A sneer. “Saltwater. Gotta admire your pretty canvas, right?”
Bile rises in Twilight’s throat. Goddesses, is there no end to the cruelty these men will inflict? Silently, he implores Wild to hold on just a little longer. Time has to be close. The others will save them.
The thug hands back the whip, only it’s a different one. Twilight holds it up and blanches. “There’s glass on the ends.”
The answering smile is gap-toothed and stained. “Get to work.”
Twilight weighs the whip in his hand and analyzes Wild’s back. The saltwater must still sting, but free of blood it's easier to see the raised welts and bleeding lines. The glass fragments will do more damage. Perhaps the lower left, where there’s less bleeding…
Ordona; he’s treating his brother like an object. He can’t do this.
Twilight steps back, shaking his head. Even when the thug holds up the poker, he doesn’t move forward. Surely a burn isn’t worse than the new whip.
With a shrug, the thug lays the glowing metal across Wild’s back. His wail rises till it cracks and he thrashes in the grip of the men, which only causes the metal to touch more skin.
“No! Stop!” Twilight is crying, but it doesn’t matter. The champion’s cry is haunting; agony so deep it can’t be expressed.
The thug looks at him and then at the poker. “You sure? I like it when he screams.”
“I’m sure.” Twilight steps forward and sends another silent apology to Wild. Then he brings the whip down on his back.
Glass cuts and shreds skin, slicing lines of red open immediately. It falls across the burns and Wild jerks. “Twi-light!” His name is broken in the champion’s mouth; cutting as sharp as the glass. “Please!”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I promise the others will be here soon.”
Another slice of the whip.
“S-stop. Twi!”
“I can’t. I’m sorry! Wild, please!”
Blood coats the champion’s back and his screams have devolved into mewls of pain. Twilight has to stop and turn aside to retch at the sight of shredded skin and gleaming muscle. The thugs only laugh.
The rancher is allowed to stop only when Wild passes out, slumping in the arms of the thugs. He’s dragged to a cage and thrown in. Twilight bolts after him, gathering the champion off the dirt. His back is a mess. It needs a fairy; healing potions and Hyrule’s magic won’t be enough. The glass sliced through muscles, too. How much internal damage can be healed? Even fairies aren’t perfect.
To his surprise, a knife is tossed in with them and the door of the cell slams shut. Another man throws a bowl of water at them. Twilight tries to shield Wild from the worst of it, but he jerks out of consciousness with a cry.
It takes him a second to focus on Twilight, but then he’s skittering away as best he can. The knife lies in the dirt between them.
The thug sneers. “One of you gets the honor of killing the other and going free. Or, I’ll kill both of you.”
There’s no way Twilight is falling for the ploy. Only, Wild’s eyes snapped to the knife before he pulled his gaze away. Would he kill Twilight over the damage he inflicted?
Would the rancher stop him?
“Hurry up and choose. I’m not a patient man.” He gestures to the wood ringing the metal cell. “I can heat things up if you like.”
They’ll be burned alive, trapped in this cell. Or the smoke will kill them first. The chain can’t bring back burnt corpses.
Wild moves, dragging himself forward. Twilight jerks and, on instinct, leans forward to grab the knife. The champion pauses, then keeps dragging himself forward.
Hylia above! Even now, Twilight is trying to save himself? After everything he put Wild through?
The champion is in front of him now and it's easy to see the tightness in his face from pain. His eyes are dull when they meet Twilight’s.
“Kill me.”
“What?” The rancher blinks. He must have misheard.
“Kill me. It will be okay. I promise.”
What…Wild can’t promise that. Does he think Twilight will be able to injure him mortally rather than fatally?
The champion tries for a faint smile. It trembles and fades. “I trust you,” Wild whispers. “I’m not getting out of this, not with my back like this.”
Hot tears burn as they slide down his cheeks and Twilight swipes them away. “I can’t lose you. I never wanted to hurt you, cub, you know that, right?”
Wild doesn’t answer, just slumps further. “Please, Twi. It hurts. One of us should get out of here and it needs to be you. And if that means I'm the sacrifice? It's fine. Just…don’t leave my body with them, okay?”
“Don’t—don’t talk like that!”
But Wild doesn’t answer. His eyes flutter and he takes a harsh breath.
The thug bangs on the bars. “Hurry up or I’m lighting this fire.”
Twilight drags it out another moment, but Time and the others don’t barge in for a rescue. Carefully, he helps Wild lay down on the floor of the cell.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you, Link. I’m sorry.”
Wild locks eyes with him. Takes a breath. Nods.
Twilight plunges the knife into his chest.
The thugs keep their word. Twilight walks out of the cavern with Wild’s limp body in his arms. Blood coats the champion’s clothes and the raw flesh of his back is sticky where it rubs on Twilight’s arms.
Out the cavern and down the path. Around the bend. Down the incline. Straight forward. There’s no Chain in sight. He does finally find them at the split in the road, arguing about which direction to go.
They run at him, shouting. Then the shouts turn to screams and wails at the realization that Wild is dead.
Time pulls the champion’s body from his arms and—oh. The blood on his back has dried and sticks to his skin. It takes a tug and a wet tearing sound to pull him free. Twilight turns and heaves, even though there’s nothing left.
His mentor crouches next to him—when did he end up on his hands and knees? “Who did this to Wild?” he asks.
And Twilight is forced to meet his eyes and say the damning words. “I did. I killed him.”
This isn’t how Wild wanted the group to find out about Mipha’s Grace. Ideally, he’d never mention it and he wouldn’t have to explain just how many times he’d been saved on his journey. What a sorry excuse for a hero—saved by his dead lover for not completing a task the first time. Or the second.
Even if Wild doesn’t want to explain the complexities of survival, in this case, it works in his favor. At least if he dies, he’ll come back. Twilight just needs to get out of there with his body before Mipha’s Grace kicks in. The bandits need to agree to let Twilight go. Trusting thugs to hold to their word is a poor lifeline, but it’s all they have.
After his journey, Mipha’s Grace still works, but it takes longer to kick in. The delays between death and life grow further with each use. Maybe at some point, it will wear off entirely, but the feel of her magic is still strong. And coming back to life while still trapped with the thugs will only land them back where they started.
Wild would like to say he’d never raise a hand against Twilight if they were in switched positions. But he’s not. And faced with certain pain and the chance of possibly lessening it; would he really leave the rancher to the tender mercies of the thugs?
None of this erases the horror of the situation, though. Of Twilight bringing down a whip on his back, painting lines of agony across his back. Is that better or worse than the burning poker? At least Mipha will erase the marks that are left; he doesn’t care for a permanent reminder of his time there.
Whoever invented the glass shard whip hopefully died under its lash regretting every moment that led to its creation.
The familiar rush of cool water and magic sweeps over his body, wiping away injury and pain. His ears flick as his body comes back online. Someone is crying. Actually, multiple people are crying.
“I—I didn’t know what to do! Time, please, I don’t know what to do!” That’s Twilight, nearly incomprehensible through sobs.
“His back—”
Twilight sobs harder. “It should have been me,” he says. “It should have been me; he didn’t deserve this.”
Ah. Well, Twilight must have gotten him away from the thugs or was rescued. Although by the sounds of it, they rightly assume he’s dead. He’s resting on his side in the grass, so no one’s noticed his chest no longer lies still.
He feels…good, actually. Bless Mipha for restoring him to full health. The emotional effects of the experience will still be something to deal with; the idea of Twilight and a knife in the same sentence still sends a shiver across his skin.
The Chain argues and cries and through it all, Twilight repeats, “It should have been me.”
Well. That’s enough of that. He doesn’t need to make them grieve for longer than needed. The situation does not call for it—and it’s probably poor taste—but Wild deserves a little payback.
With a drawn-out, broken groan, he rolls onto his back and then sits up in jerky spurts. He holds his arms out in front of him, wrists limp. Wild rolls his head to the side to meet eyes with Twilight. Now to follow it up with something properly terrifying.
“Boo!”
Twilight screams. Well, most of the Chain does and Legend nearly takes his head off with a wild shriek and swing.
Wild yelps and drops the act. “Hey! It’s me! Ledge, put that sword down, I’m not coming back this quickly if you kill me.”
The rancher bursts into renewed sobs. “I cursed him!”
Fair, but still. Wild stands and brushes himself free of grass. His clothes are ruined and coated in blood. Hmm. He’s going to burn these. The champion takes a deep breath of the afternoon air and soaks in the sights of grass, trees, and teary faces. They're going to need a lot of care and cuddles after this. Not that Wild will complain.
“I think it’s time I told you about Mipha’s Grace.”
30 notes · View notes
Text
0.4 Whumpuary
Help me | Lightheaded | Kneeling
Art under the cut bc perhaps 👀
Endurance, truth be told, was more of a curse than a virtue.
Kai panted through the muzzle, air coming too little and thin into his lungs. Wheezing, arms straining behind his back, knees bruising from where they’d been forced to kneel on the ground for the past knew how many hours. The collar tight, neck straining against the tightness of the metal against his throat.
He wasn’t meant to breathe well, he knew. Wasn’t meant to find relief in that position, kneeling at the back of the angel’s study.
“How is it going over there?”
Kai could barely flicker his eyes up, silver swirling dull under white lashes.
What do you think, he glared, as his torturer smiled at him from behind a porcelain cup of tea.
Kyriel’s smile widened, at that.
“Mmm. A few more hours would do you good, then.” A sip, red lips stretching over the cream-coloured cup. “You have still too much energy for your own good.”
Kai lowered his gaze, panting raggedly into the bite in his mouth.
Endurance. As he’d said - a fucking curse.
Kai and Kyriel Masterlist | Whumpuary 2024 Masterlist
Tumblr media
No wings only because this pose was already hellish to do without adding feathers!
Taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @forthetaintedsorrow-whump @flowersarefreetherapy @sunshiline-writes @enigmawritesstuff @burnticedlatte
14 notes · View notes
whump-mania · 2 years
Text
ok ok pirate whump ideas
-whipping
-left out on the deck tied to a pole in the sun or rain
-prisoners/hostages
-seasickness
-stowaways being found out
-dressing wounds in an old timey way
-stabbing <3
-romance??????
453 notes · View notes
ravenzeppeli · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
Daddy Prosciutto |Prosciutto x Reader Lemon|
Warning: daddy kink, dom and sub relationship, spanking, spit.
   "You see.. this just isn't acceptable attire for you to wear. You can't represent your commitment to me in a short skirt and a shirt that has your breasts hanging out. Throw these out," Prosciutto commended, throwing the items of clothing on the floor that he found slutty for some reason. "No more of this."
       You raised your hands in protest, in practical utter disbelief at what he was telling you to do to most of your clothes. "You're expecting me to throw half of my wardrobe out. Why?! These are my clothes Prosciutto, this is not fair!" Why was he trying to control you like this? So lame. So hot. Such a daddy.
       "Oh shut up. I'll just buy you some more clothes, clothes much more suitable for you. You need to cover up and respect me as your boyfriend now," he said, closing your clothes drawer gently. He turned around, purple eyes staring at you with sternness. "How does that sound?"
         You shook your head, prepared to give him a hard time. You didn't care about his stupid ass rules. You would break them with ease. "No! I don't need a man buying me things, I'm independent, so drop your shit." You rolled your eyes at him, glaring in his direction. You tried to hide your arousal. He was such a dominant man, and you liked that. That's why you agreed to date him. You needed to be dominated and controlled. It was so fucking hot, especially when he did it in front of the team and humiliated you.
        "You've been a huge brat lately, and I'm fed up." He shook his head, walking over to you. You stayed still, letting him grab you and drag you towards your bed. "You're getting punished and fucked," he snapped, ripping your shirt open, revealing your breast automatically because you weren't wearing a bra. "So naughty," he muttered, smacking your left breast with force, leaving a red handprint behind.
       You moaned, "Will you be my daddy Prosciutto?" You touched his face, causing his blonde eyebrows to furrow in confusion. "I want you to punish me and put me in my place because I like to be a real bad girl. I don't think that you'll be able to handle me, though. I see you breaking up with me in a week tops." Guys were never able to keep up with you. They always gave up. Ran for the hills. Was he actually different?
        "Break up with you? Please, I'm not going anywhere, so cut your shit. You are my girlfriend and you will stay my girlfriend. I have made my final decision, and I'm sticking with it, little girl." He raised his hands, grabbing your breast. "You want me to be your daddy? Let me show you who daddy is then," he muttered, fingers pinching your erect buds. "Pull down your pants and underwear and show me your pussy now.
      You were ready to listen to him, unbuttoning your pajama pants and pulling them down, revealing that you were wearing no underwear. You hoped that he wouldn't say anything because you did it in hopes of him spending the night with you. You were eager to please him always, you liked him so fucking much.
      "I want you to ask me to spank and fuck you, okay? Ask daddy to punish you for having a smart mouth for these past six days." He slipped two fingers inside of you, curling them inside of your core, automatically hitting your g spot. "Come on, be a good girl for me."
       "Yes, signore," you whined, collapsing into his body, your head resting on his exposed chest. "Oh wow, you smell like vanilla. That's so fucking hot, you're so fucking hot daddy. I'll listen to you, fuck those clothes. Fuck them," you practically moaned, face turning a bright red as you grew much too wet for your taste because he just started.. why were your juices already running down your thighs.
      Prosciutto let a gentle laugh escape his lips as he pumped his two fingers in and out of you, his other hand roughly smacking the middle of your bare ass. "See? Why were you pretending like you weren't going to listen to me, cara? You're so be silly but also very naughty for testing me," he spoke softly, letting his hand crash down on your left thigh, leaving behind a red handprint.
       "I'm sorry, Daddy!" You exclaimed, hands raising to grip his shirt, forehead pressed against his chest as you practically trembled in his arms, his hand raising to smack down on your left ass cheek three times. You were going to behave for him, take your punishment with no complaints, but you could at least apologize. You have been a huge brat for the past six days, but for a good reason. "I was just being a brat because I wanted your attention!"
      "How naughty of you," he said sharply, hand raising and crashing down on every inch of your bottom and sit spots, leaving every inch of your ass a bright red. He slipped a third finger into you smoothly, picking up the pace as he felt your juices leaking, running down his arm. "You're enjoying this so much. You've been needed a man in your life to take care of you and set you straight, haven't you?"
       "Yes, Daddy!" You exclaimed, tightening your grip on his shirt as you hopped up and down, his smacks causing tears of pain and pleasure to fill your eyes. "It hurts though, I didn't mean you that much harm! I'm really sorry!" You tightened around his fingers as his hits ceased, his hot hand gently rubbing your ass, trying to sooth your stings to no avail. You definitely were never going to push Prosciutto. He wasn't the kind of man who liked to have his buttons pushed.
        He pulled his three fingers out of you, gently pushing you onto the bed. "It's okay, I forgive you, baby. I know that you'll be a good girl for me now," he said softly, unbuttoning his suit, revealing his toned body and light six-pack. "You were about to cum so I had to stop, I want you to cum on my cock. Lay on your back and spread your legs for me please." He kicked his shoes off, unzipping his pants as he pulled down his pants and underwear, his 8 inch cock springing to life.
       You obeyed, positioning your head on the pillow as you lay on your back, legs spread and slick with desire for him. "Thank you so much for forgiving me, I promise that I'll be good for now on and listen," you whined, staring up at him with impatience as his purple eyes slowly creeped down your quivering, naked body. You talked shit for six whole days just to be put in your place in like 10 minutes. Damn.
       His cock twitched with anticipation, "you're so pretty.. and you're all mine. I feel bad for any guy that dares to approach you because I'll kill them. I have to keep a close eye on you." He shook his head, walking over to you. He climbed on top of you, hands wrapping around your waist as he pushed inside of your slick core with ease, a deep moan escaping his lips as he fully entered. "Fuck.. you feel so good. Such a perfect little cunt, want daddy to sleep with my cock in you all night? Want to get use to having daddy's cock inside of you?"
      You moaned, arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled his face close to yours. "I know I've only known you for five months but I love you, I fucking love you. I don't care if you love me back though, just please don't leave me. Stay with me please," you begged him, his cock bulging in your stomach, unmoving.
       "I love you too. That's why I've been so protective over you. You're so precious to me Y/N, so fucking precious," he said, licking his lips before he slammed his lips into yours, his cock thrusting in and out of you. The bed creaked back and forth, his tongue forcefully slipping into your mouth. He let his right hand drop, two fingers rubbing your clit fiercely- he was going all in tonight.
       You moaned into his lips, legs shaking as you tightened around him. When he pulled away from your lips, your face turned a bright red once his hungry purple eyes met yours. You felt so fucking filthy. "Spit in my mouth daddy," you whined softly, your juices wetting your sheets. Fuck, you didn't want to do laundry tonight.
       "I'm going to fucking murder your pussy if you keep talking dirty to me like that, I'll have to get you a wheelchair once I'm done with you cara," he practically growled, two fingers now gently slapping your clit as he rolled his hips and in and out of you, his free hand raising to grab the headboard as he spit in your open mouth. "You're driving me fucking crazy, fuck!" He added his two fingers inside of you, fingers moving next to your cock, stretching you out beyond your limits.
        You swallowed his sweet spit gratefully, trembling beneath him as you shook your head. "No no no please daddy," you begged, multiple orgasms flowing throughout your body as you squirted, refusing to hold it in. "I can't take it, I really can't!" Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, your body feeling overstimulated. You've never in your life been fucked this good before, the harsh sting in your bottom not even bothering you in the slightest.
        "But I'm not done," he taunted, shaking his head as he gripped the headboard, fingers and cock violating your poor pussy- you were going to be sore for days if he didn't stop soon. "I'm not fucking done baby, don't you want daddy to destroy your pussy? The bed isn't wet enough." He grinned down at you, the bed violently rocking back and forth.
       "No, no, please, please stop it, Daddy! I really can't take it anymore, please give me a break!" You begged him, snot and tears running down your face, more of your juices soaking the bed. "Stop it," you whined, hands dropping to push against his chest.
        He pulled his fingers out of you, sticking them in his mouth as he gave you three more violent thrusts before he pulled out, his hand dropping from the headboard to wrap around his cock, giving it three pumps before shooting his cum all over your breasts. "Was that fucking good? Did you like that?" He questioned, free hand smacking your sore womanhood twice. He panted above you, eyes wild with lust as sweat dripped from his body. His blonde locks were a hot mess, chest heaving up and down as his six pack glistened. Fuck, he was so fucking hot.
       You nodded your head, a low groan escaping your lips. Your entire lower body was sore, but it was so worth it. "Yes, Daddy," you whispered, hands dropping limply next to you. "But I can't move, I'm sore. You fucked me so hard daddy." Best sex ever.
        "How about I run you a bath and throw the sheets in the washer? I'll put some clean ones on the bed, and then I'll get in the tub with you and wash your little body. Sound good, baby?" He questioned softly, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips before standing up.
       You nodded your head, closing your eyes as another low groan escaped your lips. "Thank you, Daddy," you mumbled, letting your body go limp. Fuck, it was going to take you days to recover.
12 notes · View notes
serickswrites · 8 months
Text
Bring V
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, whipping, blood, unconsciousness, wounds, burns, scalding
“PLEASE!” Sidekick begged once more as Villain paused in their whipping. 
“Please, what, Sidekick?” Villain circled around to face Sidekick, whip gripped tightly in their hand. 
Sidekick swallowed. Right Hand could see the sweat beading on Sidekick’s forehead. Could see the tears on their cheeks. Could see Sidekick’s throat working as they spoke. “Please. I’ll do anything. Please. Stop.”
“Anything?” Villain cocked a brow. “That’s a big promise, Sidekick.”
“Anything,” Sidekick repeated desperately. “Whatever you have of me.”
Villain set the whip on a nearby table. Right Hand could see Sidekick sag with relief. Right Hand felt their own relief. They couldn’t stand to watch Villain torture Sidekick for much longer. But they didn’t want to be the one that Villain tortured either. 
“Get the two buckets I had one of the others fill,” they ordered Right Hand. Villain didn’t so much as look up to see if Right Hand would follow the order. “I told you what I wanted,” Villain cooed as they stalked closer to Sidekick. 
Right Hand couldn’t hear what Villain was saying to Sidekick as they left to grab the buckets. Right Hand stared down at the bucket of salt and boiling water. What did Villain want with these?
“Boss, here are your buckets,” Right Hand said upon their return. 
Villain took a step back from Sidekick. Sidekick sobbed openly, their chest heaving. “Please, please,” they begged. 
Villain ignored them. “Pour the salt on their back.” 
Right Hand froze. No. “What, Boss?”
Villain rolled their eyes. “We really do need to get your hearing checked. I said pour the salt on their back.”
“Me?” Right Hand’s mouth went dry as they realized Villain wanted them to participate first hand in Sidekick’s torture. 
“Yes, you. Or you’ll be up there next. Now, Right Hand.” Villain glared as they crossed their arms. 
Right Hand hurried to get behind Sidekick. “I am sorry about this,” they whispered in Sidekick’s ear as they leaned over to hold the bucket high enough. Before Sidekick could reply, Right Hand dumped the bucket. 
Sidekick’s screams echoed in Right Hand’s ears. Their twisting jerking motions trying to escape the pain burned Right Hand’s retinas. Sidekick’s wounds, already raw and bloody, continued to bleed and their skin turned red as the salt became embedded in each wound. Their begging and sobbing would forever haunt Right Hand. 
Until Villain spoke once more. “And now the water.”
Right Hand stared down at the bucket of steaming water at their feet. No. They couldn’t. “Right Hand if you do not pour that bucket on Sidekick, I promise you’ll wish that this was the only thing I did to you.”
Right Hand swallowed as they lifted the bucket. Their tongue felt too big for their mouth, their hands shaking as they raised it. 
“Please, please, please,” Sidekick repeated over and over as their head hung low. 
“Please, forgive me,” Right Hand whispered once more as they dumped the bucket. 
Sidekick’s skin, already red from their torture, turned redder, the skin swelling and splitting in other places. As the water dissolved the salt in Sidekick’s wounds, Sidekick’s choking screams cut off. They went limp in the cuffs as the scream died on their lips. 
Right Hand’s chest was heaving as they realized what they had done. To Sidekick. To save themself. They had not signed up for this. Had not agreed to bear witness, to participate in the torture. Had not agreed to any of this. 
Villain stalked closer once more, gripping Sidekick’s chin tightly as they lifted Sidekick’s head. “You really are pathetic.”
Tags: @ha-ha-one @skys-fantasy @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @a-place-to-put-poetry @subval01 @smuwfy-side-blog @friendlylandcrustacean @annablogsposts @st0rmm @freefallingup13 @lit-lists @saltyontheside @pieswhump 
53 notes · View notes
Text
doodles from a rp with @turn-the-tables-on-them
Tumblr media Tumblr media
53 notes · View notes
sadistic-softie · 2 months
Text
uuhhhhhhhhhhh
Thinking about boobs a lot.
And Trans Wilson...
Wilson with boobs...
Wilson boy pussy...
I need to pin him down and tease him until he begs for me.
I wanna chain him up and whip him until he's bleeding and crying like he's my dungeon prisoner🥺💖.
7 notes · View notes
peterbenjaminparkour · 3 months
Text
Me: “How many times do you think someone could handle being struck with a belt before they were begging for it to stop?”
My Partner: “Pardon???”
Me: “It’s for a fic…”
My Partner: “I have absolutely no idea. What the hell are you writing about?”
Me: “Um… torture?”
Partner: “Oh, awesome.” /s *shifts uncomfortably* 😅
9 notes · View notes
zelda-fanart-n-stuff · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Pg 1 of ?
gonna post these as i finish them i think cause otherwise it'll take way too long to get to post it!
8 notes · View notes
shywhumpauthor · 2 years
Text
May 1st- “Don’t hold your breath”
[whip/ tears/ the chair]
@themerrywhumpofmay
Cw: whipping, torture, failed escape attempt, manipulation, gaslighting (eh), noncon touching, restraints, lmk if I’m missing anything
Whumpee screamed as a line of fire cracked across their back, splitting open their skin and leaving a bloody gash in its wake.
“STOP- PLEASE STOP-” They begged, writhing against the ropes that held their wrists high above their head, keeping them stuck upright on their knees. “WHUMPER PLEASE!!”
Whumper grinned, tossing the whip from one hand to the other with a skilled ease.
“Oh Whumpee darling,” They purred, rolling their wrist with a small pop of their bones. “You know I don’t want to do this, right? I really don’t like hurting you…”
Whumpee cringed as they heard footsteps quickly approaching, before a rough hand carded through their hair, combing the sweaty locks back from their forehead.
“But you need to learn how to behave somehow, my dear.” Whumper whispered, their grip turning rough, drawing a cry from Whumper’s chapped lips. “This is the last time you try to run, okay? I won’t be so merciful next time.”
Whumpee let out a stuttering breath as Whumper released their hair, and stepped back. Their relief didn’t last long, before the whip cracked against their bloody back once more, tearing a ragged wail from their throat.
“What’s the count, darling?”
269 notes · View notes