#Manhandling

[defire]

Tropes that always give me whumperflies

Content: noncon nudity, manhandling, injuries, beating, fear, defiant/stoic whumpee

Throwing whumpee onto their knees before the enemy leader and holding them there by the back of the neck

Whumpee half-curled into a fetal position as they're being relentlessly kicked

Whumpee forced to strip. And doing so flushing and getting ashamed.

Whumpee shuddering and shaking from exhaustion caused by screaming, resisting, and fear

Wiping blood off hastily, grabbing injuries, making faces as they try not to cry

Ripping their pants down or shirt up so roughly it jerks whumpee's body

The broken sob that's kind of the end of a cry they barely managed to hold in

Whumpee feeling stupid, humiliated, even though anyone would, in their position

Sweating, swallowing, and keeping their face under control, trembling as they are inspected

Being twisted by the wrist, spun around, and slammed face-first into a wall or desk

Compromising positions like whumper sitting on their butt, in a non-sexual, violent way that just emphasizes the desperate physical struggle.

Grabbing them by the face to look at them and make snide observations about how scared they are

Slapping whumpee in the cheek

Small whumpees being thrown around and restrained physically by big whumpers

Grabbing their hair to slam them into the wall and whispering something in their ear that makes whumpee grimace

"turn around and face the wall."

Slapping a knife wound or gunshot injury and whumpee winces, cries and curls over the injury

A sarcastic remark dying on whumpee's lips as they see what whumper brought to beat them with

A stoic whumpee after a long time of taking a beating with only grunts of pain, groaning as a bone is broken, and as whumper raises their boot to kick again, whumpee hoarsely cries "wait wait, please! --please wait!"

[bobbysfirehose]

the way your tongue explores me while your hands reassure me

requested by an oomf on twitter to redraw that one scene of buck and taylor in the bathroom but as buddie, and so this was born

this angle was really fun to draw but also made me want to unalive myself trying to figure out

couldn’t decide whether i liked the lineart more than the rendered version or not, so i’m giving you both

also, this is sort of a redraw of this drawing?

[bitchesmoonwalkin]

okay attempt two at posting this

ways of making a whumpee scared of non-con without outright nc or threats

carewhumper vibes. the obvious tws apply

manhandling. throw them onto the bed and straddle their hips, keeping their hands pinned on either side of their head. alternatively, bend them over a table or a bed, keeping them there with a hand tangled in their hair or on the back of their neck.

alternatively, keeping them pressed against your chest or guiding them with fingers tangled in their hair or digging into their hip, just slightly under their waistband

classic shows of submission. tie them up and have them kneel - especially if it's between your whumpers spread legs. give their hair a pet every once in a while if they're good.

pet names: baby, pet, pretty boy, pup, princess. etc.

strip them. personally i prefer keeping my whumpees in their underwear and maybe a carewhumpers tshirt, but even so the act of stripping them is a great place for some physical and psychological whump - ESPECIALLY when the whumpee has only just been kidnapped/captured and does not yet know what to expect

have them undress in front of you for the first time before making them bend over the bed. watch their hands shake and their eyes fill with tears, feel them tense underneath you, frozen with fear. and then you simply just handcuff them or even just walk out of the room, leaving them to question when the n/c will start - only it won't. their fear is all you wanted, after all

gruff/significantly larger or older caretaker bathing a younger whumpee who doesn't feel safe around them yet - whumpee flinching away but too weak to fight as they are gently stripped and placed in the bath, being cleaned /everywhere/ in a way that makes them flush with shame even if there's no intention behind the touches

whumpee being gently but firmly forced into a humiliating position, maybe forced to stand still for an /inspection/ filled with clinical yet invasive touches

using objects w sexual connotations (ball gags, blindfolds, certain whips and types of restraints) in non-sexual situations

this works especially well for a newer whumpee - strip them, blindfold and ball gag them before thing them to a mattress, legs spread. then let them wake up on their own, slowly, watch the fear kick in as they come to their own conclusions about what's going to happen to them

some more explicit stuff below the cut

those dildo gags or maybe an anal plug or vibe - just, you know. keep it in

shoving fingers into whumpees mouth until tears come to their eyes

be handsy with them

taking photos of them in intimate or humiliating posistions

whumper jerking off onto whumpees face where they're tied up and kneeling

buying whumpee lingerie - if they wear it, they might get some food or even first aid

[wanders-in-wonderland]

A Game

My arms are tied behind my back and I'm sitting on a bench with my legs straddling it. I'm blindfolded and gagged, with no idea what to expect.

Suddenly, I hear the sound of footsteps and a deep, silky voice calls out, "Darling, how are we feeling?" I whimper into the gag as I feel him come closer. I flinch when his fingers dance lightly across my skin as he cups my tits before flicking my nipples.

"I want to play a game," he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "You see, I invested in a lovely little something that's supposed to make little toys like you so desperate and so horny that you can only focus on cumming. But I want to see if that's true, and if so, how powerful it can be."

I can hear him rustling around and the metal clinking of different things makes me even further on edge. I whimper and flinch when I feel him rub something cold against my arm and the smell of rubbing alcohol hits my nose. Before I can process what is going on, I feel the sting of a needle going into my arm. He'd injected me.

It doesn't take long for me to figure out that he'd injected me with an aphrodisiac, the "investment" he'd mentioned. I can feel my whole body heating up, my nipples harden into peaks, my clit pulses, and I feel my pussy clench rhythmically. I'm panting slightly as I feel my body completely overwhelmed with need and I know that if he were to take my gag out, I'd be begging him to touch me, fuck me, please make me cum.

I can feel my pussy leaking onto the bench, creating a puddle. He laughs softly from behind me and suddenly, I feel his hand wrap around my throat. He tightens his grip slightly, restricting my airway just enough to make breathing a little more difficult and the lack of oxygen makes me even dizzier with need.

"I want to see if you'll pick your needy little cunt over your need to breathe," he murmurs darkly. I'm too delirious to fully comprehend what that means as my hips start to thrust slightly, desperately trying to create some kind of friction on my clit to relieve the pressure.

He lets go of my throat and I gasp as much as I can over the gag. I feel him walk away for a brief moment before he's back. He brushes something lightly over my neck and I realize it's rope. He loops the rope over my head and wraps it around my neck, tying it loosely. Then, I feel him walk away again and I hear the sound of more rustling and I start feeling slight tugs on the rope. The tugs become more insistent and I have to stand up from the bench I'm straddling just to keep it from choking me.

Eventually, I feel the tugs stop, but now I realize that he'd tied the other end of the rope so high up that I can't sit back down without restricting my own breathing by essentially hanging myself. I hear him laugh as he watches me, "Have you figured it out yet, honey? Maybe this will help."

I hear the buzzing of a vibrator break the silence and then I feel it. He presses the bulb of the toy against my clit and I moan deeply as my hips start to move. He pushes the vibrator hard against my clit and I'm whimpering from the pleasure. The aphrodisiac has made me so sensitive and needy that the few seconds of the vibrator has pushed me to the brink of an orgasm. But before I can fully enjoy it, he pulls it away. I whine into my gag and beg as best as I can.

"Now, here comes the fun part," he says, "I'm going to put this vibrator right here on the bench. Right where your little clitty would be if you were sitting. Now the only problem is, if you want to sit, you're going to have to choke yourself with that rope. And that is the game." He laughs darkly as the realization of my predicament hits me.

I desperately try to rub my thighs together to relieve some of the burning need but it doesn't help. My clit is throbbing at the idea of the vibrator, and I'm so, so needy that I can feel my pussy clenching.

I tentatively try to lower myself down a little bit. I can barely feel the vibrator brushing my clit before I reach the limit of the rope. I whimper when the severity of my predicament hits me. The slight sensation of the vibrator is making my eyes roll but it doesn't help to relieve any of the need that's been building up inside of me.

I can feel my body begging my mind to rearrange its priorities. I'm so desperate to cum that I'm willing to deprive my body of oxygen just so I can make this need go away. If I were more coherent, I would be humiliated by myself, but right now, I'm too far gone to care.

The desperate part of my brain takes over and I let myself sit down fully onto the vibrator. A choked gasp leaves me, both from the relentless pleasure that overwhelms me and from the tight rope around my neck that restricts my airway. The rope isn't tight enough that I can't breathe at all, but it's enough to make my head spin.

I vaguely hear him laugh but all I can focus on is the pleasure rushing through me. I can feel myself barreling towards an orgasm and if I had more air, I'm sure I would be screaming and moaning from all the sensation. I feel my face redden from the lack of oxygen and I'm becoming lightheaded. I'm so close to cumming but before I can push myself over that edge, I feel my body lift up from the vibrator as my instinct to breathe kicks in. Air floods my lungs as the rope loosens and I feel tears well up in my eyes. My own body betrayed me, picking oxygen over my orgasm.

He laughs in delight, "Oh poor honey, looks like you don't want to cum that badly yet."

I'm panting and shaking slightly, my legs barely having enough strength to keep my body up. I want to sob at how unfair it all is but I'm too focused on drawing in as much air as possible.

"Hm, let's tip the balance honey," he says and I feel him wipe my arm again with an alcohol wipe. I whine when I feel the second injection. He dosed me again. Immediately, I feel the effects of the aphrodisiac grow exponentially. My pussy flutters and my clit pulses even harder. The need multiplies inside of me, pushing me towards the brink of my sanity.

I'm so desperate that I don't hesitate this time when I sit down onto the vibrator. I feel my eyes roll up into my head as the sensation on my clit pushes me toward the most intense orgasm I have ever experienced. The lack of oxygen makes everything more sensitive, and I let out a gurgled scream when my orgasm hits, my pussy spraying my release all over the bench and the vibrator. I let myself ride out the orgasm before I get my feet back under me, standing to let myself breathe and to let my clit recover a little from the onslaught of stimulation.

I'm panting from the rope and the orgasm as I shake slightly. But as my orgasm fades, the need rebuilds. "Oh honey, you're going to need more orgasms than just one to burn through all the drugs in your system." His voice barely breaks through the haze in my mind, and I briefly wonder what I must look like right now, tied up and strung out.

My body drops back onto the bench and I let the vibrator ravage my clit, relieving some of the torturous need inside of me while I gasp for air that just won't go into my lungs. I chase every orgasm like this, pressing myself to the vibrator for as long as I can before the need for air forces me to leave it behind. I cum three more times but still, the drug-induced need doesn't fade, despite the overstimulation that makes me want to stop.

I'm crying after my fourth orgasm, face permanently pink from the stimulation and air restriction. Suddenly, I feel his hands on my shoulders, gently massaging my neck. I whimper when I feel him step closer to me and I let myself lean into him.

"Are you enjoying the game, honey?" He murmurs into my ear before kissing the side of my neck softly. I whine in response and before I can even get my bearings, he shoves me down onto the vibrator. I'm not prepared this time and I lose what little air I have in a scream. He doesn't seem to care as he pushes my body down onto the vibrator, keeping me from coming up for air. I'm writhing, the vibrator pushing me toward another orgasm as I gasp uselessly.

He's too strong for me and I can't do anything but accept the overwhelming pleasure and lack of oxygen. The lightheadedness makes my head spin when my body clenches as I cum. My cunt flutters around nothing and my clit burns with overstimulation. He doesn't let up, forcing me to ride out this orgasm as another builds quickly. I don't even know if it's a separate orgasm or a continuation of the earlier one when my pussy gushes again and squirts all over the bench. I'm shaking as my vision goes white and the overwhelming pleasure and lack of oxygen breaks me. I feel myself fade out of consciousness as my body goes limp under his hands.

I wake up to my body burning from soreness. I'm cradled in his arms in bed and he smiles at me when he sees I'm awake. His lips meet mine and I press myself closer against him, ignoring my groaning muscles. "Did you like our game, honey?" He whispers to me. "I loved it."

[paingoes]

whumper pushing whumpee to the ground, ordering them to get back up, and kicking them back down each time they try. repeat as many times as you like. especially w whumper getting more snippy each time.

“i said get up” while they’re making it physically impossible

physically and mentally exhausting them in addition to hurting them. forcing whumpee to participate in their own abuse.

[whumpster-dumpster]

In case you were wondering, this is your sign to yeet your whumpee full force into a wall

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

what's better:

being manhandled while conscious, spitting venomous words and cries for help as they easily wrangle your flailing limbs close to be hoisted along without breaking a sweat

OR

being manhandled while unconscious/sedated, knowing there's nothing you can do to stop them as they scoop you up or throw you over their shoulder, unable to fight the hold that doesn't even need to be tight since you're sure as hell not going anywhere

[lila-lou]

✨Lesson learned✨

Summary: You upset your boyfriend by dancing with another guy, so he sets out to teach you how to behave.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader (DARK)

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, kinda Rape, Language, Angst, Hurt, Manipulation, Violence, Humiliation - it´s just pure darkness

Word Count: 5168

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The relationship with Ben had always been a rollercoaster ride, filled with highs and lows that left you dizzy and disoriented. When you first started dating, you held onto the hope that he would change, that maybe the glimpses of softness he showed were a sign of something deeper. But as time went on, it became painfully clear that his misogynistic tendencies ran deep, overshadowing any progress he made. It was a constant tug-of-war between his moments of kindness and his ignorant behavior, leaving you feeling drained and uncertain about your future together.

So again, as you stood in front of him at the bar, a hand gently resting on his shoulder, you mustered up the courage to ask, “Ben, come dance with me?”. You nodded towards Kimiko and Frenchie on the dance floor, their laughter and joy infectious.

Ben grumbled a terse "No", his irritation palpable in the air. But undeterred, you tried again, hoping to break through the barrier he had erected between you. "Please, just one dance", you insisted, your voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

However, before you could finish your plea, Ben snapped at you, his tone cutting through the music and laughter around you. "I said no, can't you listen for once?". His words stung, leaving you feeling small and defeated once again.

You tried not to let anyone see that his snapping hurt you, so you overplayed it with a nod and a soft smile. While Ben took a sip of his whiskey, you sat back down beside him, your eyes fixed on the dance floor. Annie and Huggies were dancing too, their happiness a stark contrast to the tension between you and Ben. With a sigh, you realized that once again, you and Ben were alone in your own little world of strained communication and unspoken frustrations.

You bit your lip, bouncing your leg up and down, while Ben's focus remained glued to his phone. You were happy that he had even agreed to join you and your friends at the bar, but right now, you kinda wished he hadn’t come. He didn't talk to you, didn't dance with you, nothing. The silence between you was heavy, filled only with the sounds of the lively bar.

You sighed, unable to hide your disappointment, and it earned a snarky comment from Ben. "What's with the dramatic sighing? If you're so bored, maybe you should have stayed home", he muttered without looking up from his phone.

His words cut deep, but you forced a neutral expression, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he had hurt you. Instead, you just looked back towards the dance floor, wondering how something that once felt so promising had turned into this.

After a while, some guy approached you. Of course, he wasn’t Ben, but he looked pretty handsome. His blue eyes sparkled as he smiled at you. “Would you like to dance?”, he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

You glanced beside you, but Ben didn't even bother to look up from his phone. Clearly not paying attention to you at all. More than hurt by his disinterest, you took all the bravery you had left and smiled at the stranger, nodding. You stood up and walked with him over to the dance floor.

As you started dancing, it was nothing too close or dirty; you just wanted to have fun and forget the tension with Ben, even if only for a moment. The stranger's easy-going nature and genuine interest in you made you feel lighter, the weight of Ben's neglect slowly lifting as you moved to the music. You laughed and twirled, enjoying the simple pleasure of being seen and appreciated, if only by someone new.

It wasn't until 20 minutes later that Annie and Hughie approached Ben, slightly sweating from dancing, and asked, "Hey, Ben, have you seen Y/N?".

Ben looked up, visibly annoyed. He glanced to his side and realized you were gone. Scanning the room, his eyes finally landed on you, laughing with a guy he didn’t know. There was a respectable distance between you and the guy, but still, his anger began to simmer.

Annie followed his gaze, swallowing hard when she saw you on the dance floor. Her eyes flicked back to Ben, noting the veins standing out on his neck, a clear sign that he was trying everything to keep his temper in check. But it was obvious he was close to losing it.

"Ben, it's just a dance", Annie said softly, trying to diffuse the situation. "She just wants to have fun".

Ben's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "I can see that", he replied through gritted teeth, his eyes never leaving you and the guy.

Hughie put a hand on Ben's shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. "Maybe you should go talk to her, Ben. Clear things up".

Ben took a deep breath, his anger barely contained, and stood up. "Yeah, maybe I fucking should", he muttered, striding towards the dance floor with a determined look on his face.

Ben approached you within seconds, and without a word, he punched the guy in the face. He tried his best to hold back his supe strength to avoid killing him outright, but the guy was still knocked out, his nose and jaw clearly broken. Despite the few screams from people around you, Ben gripped your upper arm with a fierce hold, tugging you out of the bar with such force that it left you in tears.

Outside, he shoved you towards a nearby taxi, growling, "Get the fuck inside". His eyes blazed with fury, making it clear there was no room for argument.

You stumbled into the taxi, your arm throbbing from his grip and tears streaming down your face. The driver looked alarmed but said nothing as Ben slammed the door shut behind you.

Meanwhile, inside the bar, Annie and Hughie exchanged worried glances before rushing to help the guy who had danced with you. There was nothing they could do for you now. They had warned you more than once about Ben, but you hadn’t listened. Now, they could only hope you would be safe and find a way out of this toxic cycle.

The taxi pulled away, the night outside a blur as you tried to process what had just happened. The harsh reality of Ben's unpredictable anger and possessiveness was hitting you harder than ever.

Inside the taxi, you held your arm, tears rolling down your face as a huge bruise already started to form. Ben had always been a bit rough in handling you, but he had never been this mad, never actually hurt you like this. Sure, during sex, your hips sometimes got a few bruises when he squeezed them too tight while he came and was simply overwhelmed, but this right now was completely different.

Beside you, Ben breathed heavily, his angry gaze fixed on you. You tried not to look at him, fearing that meeting his eyes might provoke another outburst. The tension in the confined space of the taxi was suffocating, each second dragging on like an eternity.

“You really thought it was a good idea to fucking dance with some random guy?”, Ben finally spat, his voice dripping with anger. “Do you have any idea how that made me look?”.

You flinched at his words, struggling to find your voice. “I just wanted to have fun, Ben. You weren’t paying any attention to me”, you said softly, your voice trembling.

The taxi driver kept his eyes on the road, clearly uncomfortable but not daring to intervene.

Ben's rage intensified, his face contorting with fury. "Fun? With another man?", he repeated, his voice louder and more menacing. "You acted like a fucking little whore, and you should know better!".

You flinched again, the sting of his words cutting deeper than the physical pain. "Ben, please", you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I wasn't doing anything wrong. I just wanted to dance".

"Just wanted to dance?", he mocked, his voice dripping with venom. "You're mine. You don't get to just do whatever the hell you want".

You felt a mixture of fear and defiance welling up inside you. "I didn't mean to upset you", you said, your voice barely audible. "But you can't treat me like this".

Ben's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable. "I can treat you however I damn well please", he snapped. "You're lucky I don't do worse for making me look like a fool in front of everyone".

The taxi driver shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes fixed firmly on the road. You felt a pang of sympathy for the man, dragged into this toxic exchange against his will.

As the driver stopped in front of your and Ben’s apartment building, Ben paid quickly, his movements sharp and impatient. You hurried out of the car, knowing that if you didn’t move fast enough, Ben would likely drag you out himself. Your body was shaking as you opened the door and walked towards the apartment, Ben close behind you.

The elevator ride was tense and silent, the air thick with unspoken words and simmering anger. Your mind raced, trying to think of a way to defuse the situation or at least protect yourself from what might come next.

When you finally reached your apartment, your hands trembled as you unlocked the door. You stepped inside, your heart pounding in your chest. Ben followed, closing the door behind him with a resounding thud.

“You think you can just embarrass me like that and walk away?”, he spat, his eyes burning with anger.

You backed away slowly, your voice trembling as you tried to explain. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you, Ben. I just needed some attention, some fun. You weren’t—”.

“I wasn’t what?”, he interrupted, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. “I wasn’t doting on you like some pathetic lapdog? You need to learn your place”.

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you looked up at him, feeling small and powerless. “Ben, please. This isn’t right. We can’t keep going like this”.

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—an emotion that wasn’t anger, perhaps regret or pain. But it was quickly replaced by the familiar, cold rage.

Before you could say another word, his palm connected with your cheek, the sound of the slap reverberating through the room. The force of the blow sent you reeling, your vision blurring as pain radiated through your face. You stumbled back, clutching your cheek, tears spilling freely down your face.

“You don’t get to fucking tell me what’s right”, he growled, his voice low and dangerous. The venom in his words left you trembling, your body shaking with a mix of fear and pain.

The tears came harder now, uncontrollable sobs wracking your body. Ben’s expression twisted in anger as he watched you. “Stop fucking crying”, he yelled, his voice rising to a furious pitch. “Or I’ll give you a reason to fucking cry”.

You tried to stifle your sobs, pressing your hand harder against your mouth, but the fear and pain were too overwhelming. Ben’s rage seemed to grow with every tear that fell, as he struggled to contain his anger.

He took a step closer, towering over you. “I fucking swear, if you don’t shut up…”, he threatened, leaving the rest of his words hanging ominously in the air.

In that moment, you realized that there was no reasoning with him, no calming his fury.

You stood there, your hand pressing hard against your mouth, the right side of your face completely swollen and red. Despite your best efforts to remain silent, the fear and pain made it impossible not to sob. Your breath hitched with each sob, your chest twitching up and down uncontrollably. You were shaking, your entire body a testament to the trauma you were enduring.

Ben’s eyes bored into you, a terrifying mix of rage and contempt. “Look at you”, he spat, his voice dripping with disdain.

You couldn’t meet his gaze, your eyes fixed on the floor as you tried to steady your breathing, your sobs barely contained. The room felt smaller, suffocating, as his presence dominated every corner.

“Do you understand now?”, he continued, his tone quieter but no less menacing. “You don’t get to act out and make a fool of me”.

You nodded, trying not to upset him further, hoping to placate his rage. But Ben wasn’t done with you just yet. He needed you to learn what happened if you didn’t behave yourself. You were his girl, after all, and no one else got to touch you.

“Good”, he said, his voice icy and controlled. “But I don’t think you fully understand yet”.

He stepped closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over you. You flinched as his hand reached out, expecting another strike, but instead, he grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to look up at him. His grip was tight, his fingers digging into your skin painfully.

“You belong to me”, he said, his eyes boring into yours. “No one else gets to touch you, no one else gets to see you like this. Do you hear me?”.

You nodded again, your breath hitching in fear. “Yes, Ben”, you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Say it”, he demanded, his grip tightening even more.

“I belong to you”, you repeated, tears spilling over once more. “No one else”.

He released your chin, shoving you back slightly. “Good. Now remember that”, he said, his voice filled with a cold satisfaction. “And don’t ever make me remind you again”.

You stumbled back, catching yourself against the kitchen island. Ben's eyes never left you, his expression a mix of anger and satisfaction. He muttered something under his breath, barely audible, but you caught the tail end of it: "Now turn the fuck around, face down".

Terror gripped you, but you knew better than to resist. Shaking, you slowly turned around, facing the kitchen island, your hands gripping the edge tightly. The cold surface felt like a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your swollen cheek.

"Face down", he repeated, his voice sharp and commanding.

You lowered yourself, your cheek pressing against the cool countertop, tears streaming silently from your eyes. Every muscle in your body was tense, bracing for whatever was to come next.

Behind you, you heard Ben move closer, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. His presence loomed over you, and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. "Don't ever forget who you belong to", he growled, his voice a harsh whisper in your ear.

Your mind raced, searching for a way out, but the fear kept you rooted to the spot. You knew that any attempt to resist would only provoke him further, and the thought of what he might do if pushed too far was too terrifying to contemplate.

Time seemed to stretch on, each second a painful eternity as you lay there, your breath shallow and uneven.

You heard Ben’s belt rustling behind you, the sound sending a chill down your spine. He pulled down his jeans and boxers just enough to free his dick. While he gave himself a few pumps to make himself hard, he yanked up your dress, exposing your ass. With a hard tug, he ripped away your panties, leaving red marks where the fabric bit into your skin as he pulled on it.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the sobs that threatened to escape. The pain of his rough handling mixed with the humiliation of the situation, making you feel utterly powerless. Ben’s heavy breathing filled the room, a harsh reminder of the imminent violation.

“Don’t move”, he ordered, his voice cold and detached. You could feel him positioning himself behind you, the heat of his body pressing against your exposed skin.

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

As he was about to push inside you, he grabbed your hip, making you flinch reflexively. Snapping at you that he told you not to move, he slapped your ass with such force that you were shoved into the kitchen counter. You were certain he had just used his supe strength on you for the first time. The impact nearly crushed your hipbones against the hard edge of the countertop. It was impossible to tell what pained more—your behind or your hipbones.

More tears welled in your eyes as the shock and agony consumed you. The tears blurred your vision, and your body trembled uncontrollably. The brutal reality of his power and your helplessness was more evident than ever.

“Did I tell you to fucking move or not?”, he hissed.

You shook your head, too terrified to speak, your cheek still stinging from his slap. Every part of you ached, the pain almost unbearable. Yet, amidst the physical agony, the emotional toll weighed even heavier.

He positioned himself again, his grip on your hip like a vice.

With that, he pushed inside you with one hard and deep thrust that nearly had you vomiting from the pain. He knew how tight you were and how big he was. You always struggled even when you were wet, but now it was just excruciatingly painful. You could swear he had ripped you apart with just that one thrust. You cried out, the agony overwhelming every sense.

Ignoring your cries and sobs, he pulled back, his movements devoid of any compassion. With brutal force, he pushed right back inside, all the way, making you feel like you were being torn apart anew. Each thrust was a reminder of your helplessness, a brutal testament to his dominance.

Your mind struggled to cope with the pain and the violation, each moment stretching into an eternity. The tears continued to fall, each sob a desperate plea for mercy that went unheard.

As he continued, his breath heavy and labored, he muttered under his breath, "You're mine. You need to learn to behave".

You kept whimpering breathlessly, your body barely able to keep up with the intensity of his movements. The room seemed to close in around you, the walls pressing in with the weight of your fear and pain.

Ben grunted, his voice thick with frustration and anger. "I don't want to do this", he spat, "but you leave me no other choice".

Each word was like a dagger to your already fragile spirit, the cruelty of his actions and his justification for them making the situation even more unbearable. You tried to stifle your sobs, but the pain and fear were too overwhelming.

"Why can't you just do as you're told?", he growled, his grip on your hips tightening painfully. "Why do you have to make everything so difficult?".

The desperation in his voice mingled with his rage, creating a terrifying mix of emotions that left you feeling utterly powerless.

His grip softened slightly, and his tone shifted, almost pleading. “Just say you’ve learned your lesson”, he muttered, “so I can stop”.

Through your tears and pain, you managed to whisper, “I’ve learned my lesson”. The words felt hollow, but you hoped they would be enough to make this torment end.

Ben’s movements slowed, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “That isn’t enough”, he said harshly. “You need to mean it”.

Desperation clawed at your heart, and you struggled to find the words that would convince him. “I… I mean it, Ben”, you stammered, forcing as much sincerity into your voice as you could muster. “I’ve learned my lesson. Please, just stop”.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, but then he continued, his grip tightening once more. Each thrust felt like it was breaking you further, both physically and emotionally. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape.

Finally, with a grunt of satisfaction, he finished inside you. The violation felt even more complete, a harsh reminder of his dominance. He released you abruptly, and you collapsed against the counter, your body trembling and tears streaming down your face.

“Remember this”, he said coldly, his breath still heavy. “Next time, you won’t get off so easily”.

As he pulled away and adjusted his clothes, you remained where you were, too shaken to move. The silence that followed was suffocating, each breath you took a painful reminder of what you had endured.

"Get cleaned up", he ordered, his voice devoid of any sympathy. "You look like a fucking mess".

His words stung, but you forced yourself to move, your body aching with every step. You made your way to the bathroom, each movement a struggle. Once inside, you closed the door behind you and locked it, leaning against the sink for support.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the image almost too much to bear. The tear-streaked face, the swollen cheek, the haunted look in your eyes—it all felt like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.

Turning on the faucet, you splashed cold water on your face, trying to wash away the tears and the pain. As the water trickled down, you took deep breaths, willing yourself to find some semblance of composure.

With trembling hands, you reached for a washcloth. Just then, you noticed the small blood droplets trickling down your inner thighs. The sight made your breath catch in your throat, the stark evidence of your ordeal adding another layer of shock to your already overwhelmed senses.

You pressed the washcloth against your skin, trying to clean the blood as gently as possible, but the pain made you wince. The cold water did little to numb the sting, both physical and emotional. Each wipe reminded you of the violation, the brutality of Ben’s actions.

As you continued to clean yourself up, your mind raced.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally managed to clean yourself up. You dressed in fresh clothes, trying to cover the bruises and marks as best as you could. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, knowing you had to face Ben again.

Opening the bathroom door, you stepped out cautiously. Ben was still in the living room, his expression unreadable. You avoided his gaze, but as you walked towards the bedroom, Ben called after you, stopping you in your tracks. Your heart raced and your hands started to tremble again. Every step made you wince in pain, but you turned around and walked back towards him, bracing yourself for whatever was to come next.

You stood in the doorway, wearing a thin, long soft sweatshirt and matching pants that you hoped would hide the bruises and marks. Ben’s expression was still unreadable, but his voice was softer now, almost deceptively gentle.

“Come closer”, he ordered, a hint of something unreadable in his tone.

You hesitated, every instinct screaming at you to stay away, but you knew better than to disobey him now. Taking a deep breath, you took a few steps closer, each movement sending jolts of pain through your body.

He watched you intently, his eyes following your every move. “You know why I had to do that, right?”, he asked, his voice still soft but carrying an underlying threat.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. The fear and anxiety were almost overwhelming, but you forced yourself to remain calm, to not provoke him further.

“Good”, he said, his tone slightly more approving. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you need to know how to behave”.

You swallowed.

“Come here”, he said, extending a hand towards you.

You walked over to him slowly, each step a reminder of the pain and fear you were trying to suppress. When you reached him, Ben’s grip was surprisingly gentle as he pulled you onto his lap, positioning you so that you were straddling his hips.

The change in his demeanor was disorienting. He had been so brutal just moments before, and now he was almost tender. His hands rested on your hips, the same place where his grip had been vice-like earlier.

“You know I do this because I care about you”, he murmured, his eyes searching yours.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure. The closeness was suffocating, yet you forced yourself to nod, to agree, to do whatever it took to keep him calm. “I understand”, you whispered, though the words felt like ashes in your mouth.

Ben’s hands moved up and down your sides, almost in a soothing manner. “Good”, he said softly.

You nodded again, your heart pounding in your chest. His touch, though gentle now, was a reminder of the power he wielded over you.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and for a moment, it almost felt normal.

With that, his attention turned back to his joint and the TV, his grip on you still firm but now gentle. He held you close, his arms wrapped around you as if trying to erase the brutality of earlier with this forced tenderness. The flickering light from the TV cast shadows across the room, adding to the surreal feeling of the moment.

You sat there, straddling his hips, your body tense and your mind racing. Every muscle screamed for you to get away, to find a safe place, but you knew better than to try and leave now. Ben’s mood could change in an instant, and you couldn’t risk provoking him again.

He adjusted his hold on you, pulling you even closer. “See, this is nice”, he murmured, almost to himself. “I just want us to be close”.

You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice to remain steady. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a reminder of the precariousness of your situation. His words and actions were so contradictory that it was hard to grasp any sense of stability or safety.

As he focused on the TV, you tried to find a place of calm within yourself. The physical closeness was suffocating, but you forced yourself to breathe slowly, to remain as composed as possible.

He felt your heart still racing and brushed his hand gently over your back. “Relax”, he mumbled, his touch soft and almost soothing. It was as if he was afraid to hurt you now. The gentleness felt like a cruel twist.

“I love you”, he murmured, his voice filled with a strange mix of sincerity and possessiveness. The words hit you hard, bringing fresh tears to your eyes. How could someone who claimed to love you inflict so much pain and fear?

You swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, but they fell anyway, silently streaming down your cheeks.

Ben’s hand continued to move slowly over your back, as if he believed that this moment of tenderness could erase the horror of what had just happened. “You know that, right?”, he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for affirmation.

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak.“I know”, you whispered finally, your voice barely audible.

Ben brushed your tears away gently with his thumb, his touch surprisingly tender. “Come on, baby, stop crying”, he whispered, his voice a strange mix of concern and possessiveness. His fingers traced the path of your tears.

You nodded slightly, though the tears continued to fall. His gentleness now felt almost surreal. It was hard to reconcile these two sides of him, the loving and the violent.

“Shh, it’s okay”, he murmured, pulling you closer against his chest. “I don’t want to see you cry”.

You pressed your face into his shoulder, hiding your tears from him, but they kept coming. The conflicting emotions within you were too much to contain.

“Just relax”, he said again, his hand continuing to stroke your back. “Everything’s going to be okay”.

He gently pressed you closer by your hips, and you instantly shook and cried out in pain. Ben’s eyes widened with genuine concern. “Does it hurt?”, he asked, his voice softer, his hand hesitating on your hip.

You nodded, biting your lip to stifle the sobs. “Yes”, you whispered, unable to meet his gaze.

A look of confusion and something akin to regret flickered across his face. “I’m sorry”, he murmured, his hand loosening its grip. “I didn’t mean to hurt you that much”.

The sincerity in his voice was disorienting, making it even harder to process the rollercoaster of emotions. You wanted to believe the gentler side of him, but the pain and fear were too fresh, too real.

“It’s okay”, you said softly, more out of a need to pacify him than anything else. You knew you had to keep him calm, to avoid provoking another outburst.

“Come on”, he whispered softly, “let’s get you to bed”. He stood up, carrying you with him, his movements careful and measured as if trying not to cause you any more pain.

You felt a strange mix of relief and trepidation as he held you. His gentleness now was in such stark contrast to his earlier brutality that it was hard to reconcile the two. You wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing yourself to be carried.

Ben carried you to the bedroom and gently laid you down on the bed. “You need to rest”, he said, his voice still soft, but you could sense the underlying tension. “I’ll stay with you”.

You nodded slightly, too exhausted and sore to protest. The bed felt like a small haven of comfort despite the circumstances. Ben climbed in beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you close but carefully avoiding your sore spots.

He stroked your hair gently, as if trying to soothe away the pain he had caused. "You need to rest", he repeated softly, his breath warm against your ear.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing.

"Everything's going to be alright", Ben murmured, his voice low and almost hypnotic.

As the minutes ticked by, you felt the exhaustion from the day's events start to take over. Your body ached, each bruise and mark a painful reminder.

Ben's grip on your waist tightened slightly, as if he sensed your thoughts. "I love you", he whispered again, his voice tinged with a desperation that made your heart ache.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to respond. "I love you too", you whispered.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

[defire]

Manhandling--especially done in silence.

Content: manhandling, humiliation, beating

Slammed into the top of a desk with their arm twisted behind them

Whumpee wincing and freezing under whumper's weight as they realize they're trapped; if they move any more their wrist is going to break

whumpee crushing their lips in their teeth to hold back cries of pain that they'd be punished for

Guards shoving in a manacled, stumbling whumpee before the king, kicking him to his knees and forcing him to bow so low his forehead hits the flagstones

Fist in the hair to yank whumpees head up

Or fingernails bruising into the cheeks for the same goal

Whumpee frustrated to rage that they aren't being allowed to just walk straight, instead they have to throw them into walls and slam them down into seats

Looking up with a livid glare at main whumper when they get there

Whumpee starting to speak, "wait, just--" gets yanked so hard the words catch before he staggers forward

"I can walk." Whumpee growls next time they come for him. Snarky guard--"well, you're to be dragged."

When the whumpers step away from whumpee, now tied up and gagged on the floor, panting through his nose

Humiliating punishments like whipping while whumpee is tied up like this, whumpee floundering awkwardly away with a muffled shriek at every strike

Holding whumpee's arms so whumper can punch them over and over in the stomach

A lineup of prisoners, but whumpee is the only one that gets thrown and kicked into position

[bobbysfirehose]

to be held, tenderly

to be handled, devotedly

drew buck manhandling eddie because i can

this pose caused me immense turmoil but i think it worked out

[whumperly]

Manhandle your whumpees.

Grab them by the arm and twist until something burns and crunches. Shove them down into their knees and rub their faces into the hard ground until their cheeks bruise or their lips bleed or their noses break. Slam them into walls. Grab them by the collar and shake them hard. Throw them around. Hold them by the throat to get their attention. Grab them hard enough to leave finger marks just because you can.

Leave your whumpees with bruises and aches that will linger long after the abuse has stopped.

[subbyprincessb]

Just wanna be manhandled, thrown around and put in my place. Because I’m a fucking brat. 💕

[missbunnybunny]

『𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖗𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘.』

𝕿𝖜: somno, yandere, stalking, breaking and entering, fem-reader,non-con, manhandling, dubcon, overstim, Pervert!choso.«🛑𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸🛑» I think that's all.

NOTE: I don't know what I wrote. Not edited. Let me know if I missed anything.

You're desperate for a roommate. Entering your first year of college, you decided to find an off-campus apartment.

Thus, the reason why you're so desperate, you can't pay the bills yourself!

A friend recommended posting an advertisement online. So you did just that, asking for a roommate close your age.

Choso answered your ad, and after some questions, you decided that he was perfect. He was majoring in forensic.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who convinced you to get cameras for the apartment. " It's to make sure nothing happens. I wouldn't twant you getting hurt." He assured you.

But he doesn't tell you that he set up a few small ones in your room. He didn't want a random man with you in there.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: who has a collection of videos of you changing. His favorites are when you try and fail to muffle your moans when you pleasure yourself.

He strokes his length at the same pace your fingers pound your hole. Whimpering your name with a fucked out face.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Gets brave and enters your room when you're deep a sleep. Removing the covers and taking pictures of your figure.

Your sleeping choices are an oversized t-shit and shorts. The shirt scrunched up, making you look delicious.

Fuch his getting hard just thinking about it.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who for nights on end just takes pictures of your clothed figure. Until it's not enough, he lifts your shirt and moans softly when he sees your perked up nipples.

Taking pictures of his hands squeezing your soft mount, his cock in between them. An electric pleasures shot throughout his body, at the feeling.

He takes pictures of his mouth around your cute lil nipples.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who slides your shorts just enough to see your clothed flower. He runs his finger against your slit, feeling a sticky pool form.

Who can't take it and uncovers your cunt, taking up close pictures. Some spreading your folds, some with his tip kissing your entrance.

He takes videos of how he ate you out like you were a 5 star meal.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who takes a video of his length rubbing against your fold, your honey coating his member as his hips buckle.

"Y/n-Ah- s-so good." He mumbles in a trance. His self-control slipped with every movement.

He knows it's wrong. But you feel so good to stop.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who takes his length and slowly begins to slit you open, sleepy moan and whimpers left your lips. Choso records the action, a perfect view of where you both connect.

He slowly fucks you, until he feels your walls flutter and constrict around him. He had to bite his shirt to stop himself from waking you up.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who has you coming on his cock, he want to desperately cum inside you but he pulls out before he spills his seed on your stomach.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: who cleans you and puts your clothes back. He exists your room, and he turned to his so he could masterbate to the video over again.

God, your face was so devine, drooling, and with your back arched. He wished he could fuck you silly, and have you past out around his length.

He secretly made your pleasured filled face his wallpaper.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who pretends he didn't fuck your sleeping body and carries on like normal. He continues to fuck you in your sleep, he feels a sense of pride when you complain about being soar the next morning.

You were doing homework in your room when your computer died. "Choso, can I use your computer?" You asked as you exited your room.

Choso called out in the affirmative from the living room. Entering choso's room, you quickly found his computer.

It was a large desktop with two screens. Signing into your Google docs, you continued your writing.

While typing your hand accidentally moved the mouse, opening a tab. Quickly going on to close it, not wanting to invade choso's privacy.

You froze, staring back at you was a video. One that had a setting that looked like your room, with shaking hand, you pressed play.

It was a view of someone entering your room before your sleeping figure came into view. You watched as choso began to touch your body.

The door to choso's room opened, and in walked the man himself.

Choso looked froze in his spot while you looked at him horrified. The video plays in the background.

Everything becomes a blur. Your body springs out of the chair. As choso moves closer to you, you make a room for the door.

But he catches you. His hand covers your mouth, and the other holds your waist, intrapping your arm.

Choso threw you both onto the bed, your body displayed on top of his. He kept you caged so you couldn’t run from him.

" shh, shh. It's okay, you know I wouldn't hurt you."He whispers seductively into your ear.

You try and struggle your way out of his grip, tears treating to fall. Your ass rubbed against his crotch and onto his growing bulge.

His hips thrust involuntary, in search of any pressure he could get. He whimpers in your ear, making you flush.

His hand that was wrapped around your waist slipped to your shorts. He tugged them down, gaining a startled yelp from you.

His fingers danced over your slit before plunging into your gummy walls. His pace was rough, making your back arch and muffle moans.

He can feel as your greedy hole clamps on his fingers. His palm rubs over your peal. It was over stimulating, and your eyes began to cross.

Your mind is going blank, stars behind your eyes. So much was happening at once, choso was finger fucking you while he humpped you like he was a dog in heat.

Trying to seek any pleasure he could from you.

He whispered, moaning your name, calling his good girl. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you twitched and convolced around his fingers.

Choso freed his hard on. Without warning, his tip began to kiss your entrance before he thrusted into you.

Your body twitched forwards, trying to escape the stimution, but choso's hand over your mouth was firm. Keeping you in place.

Your moans were like angelic calls to him, begging him to continue.

His shaft assaulted your G spot as he plunged roughly into your warmth. His hand snaked around your waist again, giving him a stable hold.

The new grip made it easier for him to abuse your womb. With every thrust, his length and girth made you stuffed.

His movements became uncoordinated as he reached his high. Your tummy tightened as the coil started to tighten.

Your mind was becoming mush, too cock drunk to think right. Choso rubbed your clit before giving it a pull.

The action broke you, pleasure electrocuted your brain, snapping your coil, and you came undone top of choso.

Choso removed his hand from your mouth, gripping your waist tightly as he pounded into you before stuttering and painting your warn walls white.

Unfiltered moans and whines left your over pleasuered body. Choso turned your face towards him and kissed you.

It was a hungry kiss, and he pumped more of his warm seed into you. Giving you a few more thrusts to make sure you didn't spill a single drop.

"Ah-G-good girl. So good f-for me." He says out of breath, almost slured before he pulled out.

His seed and your honey mixed into a puddle into the sheets. By now, you had passed out.

"Next time, let's do a sex tape." He chuckles at your sleeping face.

[nobelisha]

when “or what?” turns into helpless pleading. when “make me” turns into sobbing and begging. and when “yeah right” turns into me crawling away only to get dragged back to take everything you give me

[painsandconfusion]

Don'nt you just fucking love it when a caretaker (especially a leader) has to be physically held back by two or more people to keep from desperately charging in to save someone they can't possibly save? The screaming and the mindless struggling as they try to get to their doomed teammate.

As they watch the blood spill. As they're tugged backwards and to safety with feet kicking dragging against the ground.

Useless.

[transfagwhore]

honestly so rude that i'm not gripping a boy by his hips and fucking him on my tongue listening to him fall apart in my hands