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.
have you drawn Oakley's masters yet? I missed a lot of posts so i'm not sure, but if you haven't maybe try a Scene™ with them?
for some reason i have an image in my mind of the masters all kicking Oakley as they lie on the floor or something. whipping would be fun too
- Luce (progressively getting worse at sending coherent asks)
The kicking one, really only Maximus’s brothers Paxton and Kasper (who’ll you will meet in chapter 2) would ever physically abuse them like that. Clara is too respected and ladylike to kick them (unless it’s impulsive), Elias is mature and reasonable with his punishments, and Maximus wouldn’t do that.
So whipping it is hehehe
I ran out of room on the page. The disadvantages of a small notebook lol.
But there’s Elias and Clara! My poor baby, that probably hurt
Jdksjdjsdkdjddj giving us some of the fluffiest adorable headcannons then talking about Oakley getting whipped in front of Cass !! Fjejdjjdjdjdjdjfjf IM DYING I APPLAUD YAAA XDXD
Hehe gotta gave some whump in there
She’d totally watch from the window, crying with her hand clasped over her mouth to muffle the sobs. Afterwards, she has no clue what to do. Her father has to call a physician because they can’t stand up. Casa us hesitant to touch them, after all, what if she makes it worse?
I’m definitely going to make this into at least a drabble at one point
Whumpee groaned as Whumper hoisted them over their shoulder, their head hitting against their captor’s back.
Whumpee let out a small moan of pain as they were jolted with each step Whumper took. It felt as if their head was stuffed with fluffy white cotton, making it hard to think straight.
They could barely keep their eyes open as Whumper carried them through the halls, but a terrible sense of foreboding settled over their twisted stomach as Whumper entered a painfully familiar room.
“Please,” Whumpee groaned as Whumper dropped them, their body falling limp to the concrete floor. “Not- not now.”
“A dumb little cold isn’t going to get you out of your punishment,” Whumper growled, grabbing Whumpee by the wrists, and quickly fastening them to the whipping post.
Whumpee sighed as they pressed their sweaty forehead against the cool metal. Goosebumps pricked their skin as Whumper cut their shirt right off their back, and stepped away, picking up the whip.
“Now, remind me what your third rule is?”
“I- uh,” Whumpee couldn’t remember. Their head was too foggy, they couldn’t think.
They could only scream as the whip cracked across their bare skin.
Here you go @livingforthewhump I hope you enjoy! This was a fun challenge
Cw: torture, capture, forced to watch, whipping, manhandling, slap
Hero stumbled forwards as Villain’s Henchmen shoved them, nearly losing their balance. With their ankles chained together, barely a foot of slack between the metal shackles, it was hard enough to walk on their own, forget having some asshole push them every four seconds.
“Will you quit it?” Hero growled as they were shoved again, whipping around their head to face their captors.
The slap was quick, and took them by surprise. Hero just stood there for a moment, their mouth wide open as they tried to process the stinging pain as a red handprint became visible on their cheek.
“What the fu-”
Henchman slapped them again, this time the force nearly knocking Hero off their feet.
“You are not permitted to speak.” Henchman said, their voice cold and automatic. Hero scowled, but kept their mouth shut. If their hands weren’t bound behind their back, perhaps they would have fought back, taken a stand. But they were at Hebchman’s mercy, and their cheek could not take further abuse.
As Henchman pushed them forwards once more, Hero grit their teeth, and kept walking.
“Stop,” Henchman eventually ordered, grabbing Hero by the back of their shirt to keep them from continuing on. Hero choked as the fabric dug into their throat, breaking down into a coughing fit.
“Come on, dumbass, breathe,” Henchman groaned in annoyance, roughly pounding on Hero’s back while they struggled to breathe.
“No shit,” Hero wanted to say, but Henchman was already dragging them into a side room.
The noise hit Hero’s ears before their brain began to process what they saw. There had to be at least fifty of Villain’s henchmen crammed into the room, all gathered around something sun the center. Loud yells bombarded Hero’s ears, as the people argued, waving around handfuls of bills. Were they… betting?
Hero’s stomach twisted in anxiety as Henchman pulled them through the crowd. They spotted Teammate, chained to the ground on their knees. Hero grunted as they were shoved to the ground, the chains around their wrists locked to the floor. What was going on?
“Quiet down!” A voice yelled above the clamor, and the noise instantly silenced. “Clear out!”
The crowd of henchmen quickly scurried out of the center of the room, pressing against the walls so Hero could see. Next to Teammate, Healer was chained in a similar manner, their face stricken with fear.
Hero’s heart nearly stopped in their chest as they noticed Youngest, bound with their chest pressed flush against a metal post, their bare back on display to the room. Hero had a terrible suspicion of what was happening, that was only confirmed as Villain stepped forwards holding a long leather whip.
“Henchman, add me into the pool. I say it’ll take… seventeen for them to break.”
“No!” Hero screamed, thrashing against their chains, ignoring as they cut into their skin. “Don’t touch them, Villain! Don’t you dare-“
Hero’s cries were cut off as a rag was shoved into their mouth.
“Thank you.” Villain drew their arm back, pausing a moment. “Healer, dear, keep count for me, will you?”
With that, the whip cut through the air with a terrible crack, and Youngest screamed.
“I’m going to give you to the count of three,” Whumper’s voice seemed to snake through the air, their words wrapping around Whumpee’s throat like a noose pulled tight, making it hard for them to breathe. Their chest burned, heaving up and down in breaths that didn’t seem to draw in any air. “You have until then to tell me who you work for.”
Whumpee’s heart was pounding twice as fast as it should have been, their chest pressed flush against the metal post in the center of the room.
“One.”
Whumpee tried to twist their head, to get a glimpse at Whumper, and the recording equipment set up behind them, the little green light on the side of the camera indicating that it was recording each of their movements.
“Two.”
Whumper’s face was expressionless, a cool mask of indifference settling across their hard features. Whumpee’s heart nearly stopped dead in their chest as they saw the braided leather whip Whumper held in their left hand, stained with the blood of its pet victims.
“Three.”
Whumper paused a second after, to see if Whumpee was going to say anything. When the only sound that met their ears was Whumpee’s sporadic breathing, they drew back their arm, and cracked the whip against Whumpee’s exposed, bare back.
A terrible scream filled the small room, as Whumpee’s back arched, white hot agony racing down their spine, burning their skin like it was on fire. The little lead beads stitched onto the tail of the whip clattered against the ground, blood splattering across the concrete as Whumper pulled back their arm once more.
“Anything to say?” They asked, hesitating before the next lash.
“Not to you.” Whumpee grit out, their voice cracking as the whip split another long line across their back, making an X over the first one.
“This only has to last as long as you make it,” Whumper reminded, before pulling back their arm for a third.
This takes place sometime after the counting down drabble, and before the rest of part 7 (I have a timeline written out, there’s like a week between that which I’m going to fill with Harlow whump)
Cw: torture, whipping, referenced past torture/whipping, cruel/ruthless Whumper/ kinda defiant Whumpee/ backhanded slap, kinda humiliation, beating, mind games, restrains, cursing
Harlow didn’t even know what they did wrong this time. They wracked their hazy mind, but no. They hadn’t said anything, hadn’t done anything. They hadn’t stepped a single toe out of line, not after the week they’d had. They couldn’t take any more pain. They couldn’t.
So when they were dragged out to the courtyard, bound in rusted shackles, , and tossed to the ground before Leonidas’s feet, they were both confused and terrified. Especially when they saw the silver tipped whip he held.
“Oh, daring are you scared?” Leonidas noticed the hitch in their breath, the goosebumps pricking their skin. “Of this little thing?” He laughed. “Of course you are. You should be.”
Cw: Death of a minor character, implied murder, manhandling, mention of animal centered gore, slap, cursing, mild stripping (nothing spicy), whipping mention, stabbing mention, branding mention, torture mention, aftermath of torture, aftermath of branding, female caretaker, angst, but also some comfort
Leonidas let the door slam behind him. At the noise, the King looked up from the book he held.
“Son. You never visit anymore.” He rasped. The king’s skin was wrinkled, and his hair had long since turned grey, but his eyes shined with a childlike light.
“I’m sorry father, I’m rather busy nowadays.” The prince murmured, setting the tray he held on the nightstand near his father, before taking a seat by the door of the bed.
“Is this for me?” The king placed down his book, and picked up the cup of tea.
“It is. Fresh from the kitchens,” Leonidas mumbled.
“What have I told you about looking at people when you talk,” The old king chided. “No king looks at his feet and delivers speeches.”
“I’m sorry father,” Leonidas looked up, just to see his father take a sip of the tea, his face twisting into a grimace.
“It’s bitter,” Phineas coughed. “You know I hate bitter tea.”
Cw: Manhandling, non-con touching (non-sexual), forced stripping (non-sexual), dub-con touching (non-sexual), given medicine/drugs (taken willingly but it was kind of forced upon them), mentioned past whipping, mentions of death of a relative, mentions of vomiting, mention of beheading, mentioned past torture, royal whumper, captured whumpee, female caretaker.
Leander returned to the courtyard, followed closely by three castle maids.
“I want you to take them to the guest chambers, get them cleaned and fixed up. I shall be hosting a banquet tomorrow evening, I want them in perfect condition to serve.” The prince stood, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, and cleaning the grime from his hands.
“Yes my prince,” One of the maids, a woman who looked to be in her late thirties, curtsied.
Leonidas dropped the dirtied handkerchief to the ground, and swiftly left the courtyard.
“You heard his majesty. I will assist in escorting them, but then I must return to my post. The physician will be stopping by shortly.” Leander spoke gruffly, as he marched across the courtyard to the prisoner’s curled up form. None too gently, he heaved them up over his shoulder, ignoring them as they cried out.
Harlow’s consciousness faded in and out with each step the guard took, pain flaring from the gashes that covered their back.
They could barely keep their eyes open as Leander carried them through the halls. Eventually, they gave up, and let them flutter closed.
Cw: whipping, creepy whumper, intimate whumper, captured whumpee, royal whumper, taunting, cruel whumper, sadistic whumper, manhandling, shirt cut off unwillingly (not sure if it qualifies as forced stripping, because he just cut away the back of their shirt), mention of hanging, mention of death, torture, blood, angst, shackled, non-con touching, cursing.
The halls of the castle were like a labyrinth, designed to confuse and entrap those who did not belong. Left, another left, right, the guard pulled them through the corridors. Harlow tried to remember the path they took, but it seemed as if he was just trying to confuse them. They could have sworn they’ve passed that stupid painting of Leonidas and his father at least four times now…
The guard came to a halt so suddenly, they nearly crashed into him. “The prince waits behind this door,” He announced, his grip tightening on their upper arm as he pivoted to face them. “He has requested to be alone with you, but I will be right outside in case you try anything, do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes sir.” He hissed, fingertips digging into their skin, drawing a wince. They bit back a reply that would surely earn them another slap, and nodded.
“Yes sir,” They muttered. It wasn’t worth a fight.
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