#SHOCK COLLAR FOR MY

[thecolorsfucked]

i have 3oh!3 stuck in my head

[mommymutt-lexi]

The last, just so I don't flood my page with all of them. Enjoy 💞 I'll read him anything you want to say from praise to humiliation

[whump-bunny]

Whumper dialogue, but it's me trying to find my keys in my purse:

"Please don't make this difficult."

"I'm going to find you, so you might as well come out."

"Why do you always do this!?"

"Where are they... WHERE ARE THEY!?"

"There you are. And to think you were right under my nose this whole time."

"If this happens again, I'm buying a chain."

[snipdoodle]

Sick fit

[rot4melt]

It hurts me worse than it hurts you.

Captive Whumpee, Defiant Whumpee, Carewhumper, Kidnapping, Shock Collar.

“Hello, dear. Miss me?” Whumper smiles as he steps inside the musty, dim basement.

Whumpee remains curled up in his corner, not even acknowledging Whumper, which draws a long-winded, disappointed sigh from the latter.

“You know I don't like it when you ignore me,” he stops right in front of Whumpee and looks down at him with a soft expression.

Whumpee didn't need a lot of time to realize how utterly fucked in the head Whumper was. He had snatched him away from his life in the name of giving Whumpee the life he deserved, only to throw him into this cold and moldy basement; a transitional period Whumper claimed. Until Whumpee learned not to think of his previous life.

“C'mon, Whumpsy… It hurts my feelings when you ignore me like that…” Whumper crouches down, the softness of his features still there. His knuckles brush up against Whumpee’s cheekbone.

Whumpee would rather Whumper beat the shit out of him instead of whatever this was, so of course he bites back. His teeth sink into Whumper’s wrist, drawing a sharp gasp of pain from Whumper who retaliates by slamming his other, now fisted, hand on Whumpee’s head.

Whumpee satisfied at being hit, bites down harder only to have his head slammed against the wall.

His vision momentarily blurs and he let's go of Whumper.

“Y-You fucker…’ Whumper curses under his breath as he quickly stands back up and stumbles backwards, the softness of his features long gone, replaced by rage.

“You fucking Mutt!” he hisses at Whumpee whose head is pounding. Whumpee forces himself into a sitting position and leans against the wall for support.

“Bark, bark bitch,” he laughs like a crazed maniac. Of course he does. Who would not be driven crazy in this forsaken basement?

Whumper runs his good hand over his face.

“You'll drive me crazy, Whumps…” his voice softens once again. It drives Whumpee crazy when he does that. It makes him feel as if he is truly the one at fault. As if Whumper is doing him a favor that he's too stupid to comprehend.

“Fuck you,” he spits at Whumper’s feet.

Whumper lets his hand fall back to his side and his gaze hardens.

“It seems you are still rabid as ever. I don't know what to do with you Whumps…” his voice once again trails off into that tone of a disappointed parent.

“I don't want to do this to you, but you're forcing my hand.” Whumpee suddenly finds the air knocked out of his chest and curls up into a ball on the cold, stony floor.

Whumper kicked him. That fucker.

Before he can recover, he finds Whumper on top of him, wrapping something around his throat. He kicks weakly, to no avail. Something tightens around his throat and he hears a soft click and suddenly Whumper is off him and steps back cautiously.

Whumpee coughs slightly as he sits up, breathing raggedly.

“W-What did you do?” he asks angrily as he touches the thing around his throat.

A collar. A shock collar. Whumper can't be real.

“TAKE IT OFF!”

Whumper frowns apologetically and shakes his head.

“It's okay Whumps. You'll learn in no time and we will take it off then, alright?”

“TAKE IT OFF!” Whumpee forces himself up and lunges forward, only to fall to his knees when a current of shock goes through his body. He bites down hard on his tongue, almost drawing blood, trying to muffle his screams.

It goes on for thirty seconds and then it stops, Whumpee's muscles relaxing resulting in Whumpee slumping down on the floor at Whumper's feet.

“I'm sorry, Whuumpsy… It will be a learning experience for the both of us,” he whispers gently as he crouches down and pets Whumpee on the head.

[misssmeat]

Thinking about the time I was trained with a shock collar by a Dom who sat on the sofa, completely relaxed while he sent corrections through the remote. He casually molded me through painful electric punishment to be his perfect toy.

Truly, nothing has ever made me more weak. Like?? Absolutely fuck me up.

[waitineedaname]

I've decided to finally compile all my daemon au thoughts into one post instead of just flooding my friends' dms with them! I doubt I'll ever managed to actually write a fic for it because there's no way I can pull together a coherent enough plot so it would just be a series of vaguely connected vignettes, BUT. it's on my brain always.

Shen Qingqiu has a red-crowned crane. She felt Shen Jiu die when Shen Yuan transmigrated, and she was NOT PLEASED, which definitely puts a damper on their relationship at first, though she begrudgingly plays along with Shen Yuan assuming the role of Shen Qingqiu because the alternative is death and she will NOT let this fool's incompetence kill her. She eventually comes around to him, but she generally has Shen Jiu's rather acerbic and distrustful personality

Luo Binghe's daemon is unsettled at the beginning because he's still a kid. He usually chooses smaller, easier to hide forms when they're out in public, only choosing bigger forms when they're alone. Eventually, as he becomes more comfortable with Shen Qingqiu, he starts coming out of his shell more and exploring more forms around him -- a lamb bleating at his heels, a little lion cub tumbling around the Bamboo House's private training grounds. On one notable occasion he took on a crane form as an attempt to get in SQQ's daemon's good graces. She did not appreciate it.

He doesn't settle until the Endless Abyss. In PIDW, Bingge's daemon settled as a chow chow, a dog that looks soft and fluffy but is prone to, uh. aggression issues. In SVSSS, Bingmei's daemon settles as a Tibetan mastiff, an absolute unit of a dog that LOOKS intimidating, but is really just very protective

Shang Qinghua has a yellow-throated marten daemon! This is, notably, not the daemon the original goods had. Since he transmigrated as a baby, the original goods' daemon hadn't settled and was Also a baby, so he didn't end up with a grown adult's fully settled daemon like Shen Yuan did. Martens look very cute and nonthreatening, but they are fierce predators and will take down animals much larger than them! He usually keeps her hidden in his robes, but she wiggled out to screech at him to GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE when things started going wrong at the Immortal Alliance Conference, and her having a different form is what clued SQQ in that SQH might also be a transmigrator

Liu Qingge has a snow leopard and Yue Qingyuan has an Asian black bear. These daemons were chosen because Tibetan mastiffs were kept to protect monks from snow leopards and bears lol

Plot stuff under the cut!

SQQ's daemon is aware of the System, and therefore gets to learn things about SQQ's fate in the original novel. she is Not Pleased.

She remains reserved and guarded for a while, but it's hard to resist Shen Yuan's persistent charm, so she does warm up to him eventually. She's not wild about being touched, but she'll occasionally allow him to pet her feathers. She's also not wild about letting That Little Beast live in the Bamboo House, but she quickly learns Shen Yuan is just as stubborn as her A-Jiu was, so she allows it if only as a chance to keep a closer (suspicious) eye on Binghe

They definitely get much closer after the Immortal Alliance Conference, because she can tell just how much SQQ is grieving, and it pains her too. At this point, she's started seeing him as Her Person and not just a bodysnatcher

When they run into Binghe and his daemon again at Jinlan City, they both get to enjoy remembering the graphic descriptions of how in PIDW, Binghe's daemon had ripped SQQ's daemon's wings off as part of his torture. And oh fuck, his daemon settled as something even BIGGER this time?? Look at those jaws!!! Clearly the thump thump thump of his tail wagging against the floor at the sight of them is because he's excited to get his revenge. Definitely not because he's excited to see them again

On rare occasions, daemons of powerful cultivators can survive beyond the death of their person, usually only if the daemon is particularly strongwilled. She survived Shen Jiu's death once already. She's certain she could survive until SQQ gets into the back-up mushroom body. They thought it would only be a few minutes. They didn't expect it to take five years.

She is absolutely catatonic with grief during those five years. Binghe takes her survival as proof that Shizun's soul must have survived, certainly he will be able to bring him back if his daemon is still alive. He treats her with the utmost respect, the same way he treats SQQ's corpse. He never touches her directly since he knows she hates being touched. She never spoke much to him before, but now she doesn't even speak at all. She just curls up on the bed where he keeps the body, resting her head on Shen Qingqiu's chest

When Plantzun does finally show up and chaos ensues with the corpse hot potato, she confirms any of Binghe's suspicions about Shen Qingqiu's identity by swooping into the fray to peck angrily at the familiar stranger, some life and vitality finally returned to her and she scolds him for taking FIVE YEARS?? SHE NEVER WOULD HAVE AGREED TO THIS IF SHE'D KNOWN IT WOULD TAKE FIVE YEARS, HOW DARE HE. Shen Qingqiu is first so relieved to see her, and then terrified because she immediately broke his cover

After everything settles and the plot concludes and bingqiu get their happy ended, Binghe's daemon becomes SUCH a lapdog. Clingy rescue dog made of velcro type of vibe. They have to get a big enough bed to fit two grown men and a 150 pound dog. He LOVES Shizun headpats. SQQ's daemon does not ever join these cuddle sessions, but she always keeps an eye on them from her nest of pillows across the room because like hell is she ever letting Shen Qingqiu out of her sight again

[fleur-a-whump]

Overloaded (#1)

Preventative Measures

so like. this is a thing. been toying with this little guy in my head for a few weeks and like, almost nothing is concrete but I'm hoping I'll turn it into a series.

content: ex-villain whumpee, hero/leader whumper, manipulative whumper, just like a LOT of manipulation, collars/collaring, referenced electrocution, low self esteem, subtle threats, guilt trips

I've never done this before, let me know if I missed something!!

masterlist | next

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Villain has finally been given a chance. A chance to prove he's more than what the whole city has always thought of him, more than what his father raised him to be. He wanted to do good in the world. The heroes were finally giving him a chance to be more than they've always thought of him. 

...or so he thought.

He gulps as he stares at the shock collar in Team Leaders hands. It's a small thing, sleek and unassuming. But he knows exactly what it is because Team Leader had shown him how it worked.  The man is currently speaking to him nonchalantly. Villain should really be listening to the hero that holds the key to a better life. But that collar... shakes Villain's faith in Team Leader. Just a little.

"Villain," the man says shortly. Impatiently. Shit.

Villain jumped to attention, nerves only growing worse. 

"Sorry, sorry! I'm just-just a little confused. I thought... I was a part of the team..." He tries to keep the heartbreak out of his voice. He doesn't quite succeed. 

"If you'd listen..." the Team Leader sighed deeply. Villain was going to throw up. 

Team Leader began again, speaking slowly as if to a child. Or a stupid person. Villain thinks he fell into the latter column. "I was just saying this will help you better mesh with the team. I'm sure you've noticed people are a little nervous with you around."

Hostile. Villain would use the word hostile.

"Given your past, everything you've done," the man drawled. Villain can't hold back a wince. 

"So, to ease their worries, and allow them to see how great I know you can be, this is just a little precautionary measure. A bit of a show."

Ryan swallowed thickly.

"So... It wouldn't be used..."

He tries to keep himself from thinking about electricity burning the sensitive skin of his throat as it shoots down his spine and into his skull to paralyze him. He's familiar enough with the feeling; he doesn't need to imagine it.

Team Leader gives him an easy smile. "As long as there are no issues, of course not."

"...Issues?"

"Oh, stuff that'll never happen. Just breaking any of the rules."

Villain arched his brow, slightly dubious. "Rules.”

"Yeah, like, follow orders, don't fraternize with any of your old contacts, don't leave our level, don't work unsupervised, don't harm the team. Stuff you've been doing this whole time."

"Wait, don't leave the level?

"I mean, that's pretty obvious, bud. If we can't see you, we can't know that you're following the rest of the rules."

He nods mutely, gaze wandering. this whole thing just. He didn't know. It hurt.

Team Leader gently tilted his head up. "Villain, I'm only doing this because I trust you. I know you'd never do anything that could jeopardize your place here."

He doesn't trust that Villain is a hero though, obviously. That he's good. Because Villain could never be good. Not now. Not after all he's done. 

No, he can only hope to do good. And the only way he'll be able to do that is with the team. If this is what it takes to ease his team into working with him, if this is what it takes for him to stay, then he'll do it.

"O-okay."

"Atta boy, Villain! I knew you could do it, man."

Villain nods, trying to give him a smile.

Team Leader moves towards him all too quickly, and he can't help the flinch. The man doesn't seem to notice—or at least he doesn't acknowledge it—and is soon once again gently tilting Villain's chin up from where it had fallen. 

Villain fights the urge to lean into the touch.

While he's distracted, Team Leader swiftly brings the collar, already disengaged and bent open at the hinges, and presses it to Villain's skin. 

Villain jolts at the cold metal and fights to swallow as it's closed around his neck.

The locking mechanism clicks right up against his spine. He can't help the shudder that trickles down his back at the finality of the sound.

"I'm so proud of you, bud," Team Leader says with a big smile and a ruffle of Villain's shaggy curls.

The tightness in his chest eases, just a little. A little part of him flares in anger at how easily he's comforted. He doesn't deserve the comfort.

But he's trying. The collar now fit snuggly around his neck, like it was made for him, is proof of that.

--------------

ps ex-villain whumpee on the hero team but whumped by the hero team is my all-time favorite trope and it is so hard to find I have finally hit the point of needing to produce my own story to scratch the itch

[mommymutt-lexi]

Counting down to each shock. We got lots of pets after this.

[whump-is-love-whump-is-life]

An idea: whumpee bound with their hands behind their back and a collar around their neck.

The key is dangling from the collar, right against their throat

YOU. I LIKE YOU.

Make sure their hands/wrists are also attached to a wall or smth though, otherwise they’ll just use the trick™️ to bring their hands to the front.

BUT YES YES YES. Oh imagine that helplessness, the humiliation— having the literal key to your freedom so close yet so far. A perfect taunt. Bonus if whumper pulls them forward by and/or generally manhandles them by the key.

[toyybox]

It’s everyone’s favourite angel, Onyx from The Winged Servant by @rainbowsandwhumperflies 💝 He’s so cute I love him, go read TWS now!!

[whumpthusiast]

Karma’s Bitch - 7

Previous / Next / Masterlist

Tags: female whumper, male whumpee, pet whump, shock collar, electrocution, sexual sadism, intimate whumper, noncon/dubcon

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There is some defiance lingering in him after all. That’s fine. She was prepared to break him of that anyway.

The water is running in the bathroom now, at least.

She had gone down to the garage to investigate the dog cage he’d mentioned, and saw immediately why he’d been so.. oddly excited about it.

It was a piece of shit; little more than a wire crate, and rusting at that. The sort of cage that you trust your dog to stay in, not that you trust to hold your dog.

Even as weak as he is, he could have kicked the door open.

Absolutely unacceptable, but she couldn’t help but be amused by the attempt. Leaving the garage, however, she’d noticed that he was taking a suspiciously quiet shower. She’d made her way back upstairs, stepping lightly, and stood outside the door for a moment. He was muttering under his breath, so quietly she had no idea what he was saying, but the important thing was that he was not taking a shower.

The day had been going very well, overall, and she was reluctant to change that, so she figured she’d give him a chance. Instead of opening the door, she’d simply knocked.

His response had been a frightened shriek followed by a thud and a shrill, panicked claim that he was being good. Which he was not.

He’d taken his leash off, and while that was extremely annoying, she was still trying to encourage his good behavior up til then, so.. she took a deep breath, and she exercised self control.

It helped that he’d just looked so damned cute on his knees.

Now the leash is locked on, and he’s actually taking a shower, and he’ll be on his best behavior for the rest of the evening if he knows what’s good for him.

Still, just to be certain, she’s sitting in the hall across from the bathroom door, legs crossed. Her thoughts drift back to the cage in the garage. Now, obviously, that specific one is unusable, but… well. Be careful what you wish for.

If he’s so desperate to get out of the basement, she could find a proper cage for him. With that in mind, she pulls out her phone to search around.

It doesn’t take long before she realizes that if she wants to get a good one, it’ll also be expensive. The one she particularly likes is over $300.

She’s not spending that much money on a cage if she’s not even 100% sure she’s keeping him. 99% sure, but that last 1%… if he pisses her off too much and she kills him, that’ll be a complete waste of money.

But damn, now that the idea is in her head, she can’t shake it. She has a vivid mental image of him in that cage, and.. mm. Yes.

I have his wallet, she remembers, sitting up straight. I might not have to pay for it at all.

She checks the time - he’s still got a few minutes left. It only takes one for her to get up and run into the smallest of the three bedrooms, where she had stored all of his things. Sure enough, there’s a credit card.

Hell yeah.

As she’s typing in his card information, she hears the water shut off with just about a minute to spare. She takes a few extra seconds outside the bathroom, finalizing the purchase, before opening the door.

She gets a brief glimpse of him before he yanks a towel around his waist. She smirks: it’s not like it’s anything she hasn’t seen before.

She does, briefly, consider not allowing him clothing anymore, but as it entertaining as his response to that would be - no doubt horrorstruck pleading - she’s simply not all that fond of the male form.

Not that she dislikes it. She just doesn’t want to see that hanging out all day, swinging around.

It would be pretty funny, though.

He notices her smile, and looks appropriately nervous, clutching his towel a little tighter.

She could tell him to drop it. He would. She can picture it - eyes wide and mouth parted in surprised dismay, maybe a stammering “b-but“ before his face turns red and he lets go.

God, he’s almost annoyingly adorable. Is this cute aggression? She wants to strangle him.

But she’ll be nice.

He adjusts the towel’s position and winces in pain, looking down at his hand.

Oh right, his hand.

Neither of his wrists look great, broad bands of mottled red-purple bruises left behind after struggling in the cuffs as hard as he had, but the right one - the one she bit - is noticeably more inflamed.

He takes a step back when she walks over to him. “Give me your hand.”

Tentatively, he does. A little swollen and shiny around the bite marks - two crescents of dark red scabs marking where her teeth punctured his skin - very warm, almost hot, and he winces a little as she touches it.

“Infected, but I don’t think it’s too bad. Your immune system must be pretty strong.” She opens the cabinet and retrieves a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, pleased that she’d remembered to bring it back with her. It bubbles white around the scabs.

After wrapping bandages around his wrists, she takes a moment to observe her work. You know what would look even better than those bandages?

As soon as his wrists have healed sufficiently, he’s getting some cuffs to match his collar.

He starts walking slower and breathing faster the closer they get to the main bedroom. She rolls her eyes every time she has to tug on the leash to get him to pick up the pace, and it’s not even a long walk. “Do you want clothes or not?” She eventually snaps.

“Oh. Clothes.” he mumbles, promptly catching up to her.

What the hell was he expecting.. oh, he’s naked and I’m leading him on a leash to the bedroom. Right. Seriously? His whole stupid kidnapping plan was for rape and now suddenly he’s scared of sex? What a weirdo.

It’s funny, how much more comfortable he seems once he’s dressed in a black tee and sweatpants, seated at the end of the bed, though he does have one foot tapping anxiously.

She sits behind him with her legs crossed and a firm grip on his leash, observing him in pleased silence before leaning forward and running her thumb along the edge of the collar, admiring her work - he shivers, inhaling sharply when she reaches the shockbox. Mm, she loves it when he flinches.

She moves closer, until she’s right behind him, can feel him trembling - hooks her finger in the back of the collar and pulls him back against her.

He smells nice. Mostly from the soap, of course, but there’s something more. Unfamiliar, but not unpleasant.

Maybe she can smell fear. She chuckles at the thought, letting go of the collar in favor of his hair, gently but firmly urging him to tilt his head back and to the side - baring his neck for her.

God, she wants to bite him. The first taste of his blood was satisfying. The second taste, intriguing. She’d never tasted anyone else’s blood before, and now she can’t help but wonder if she’s been missing out.

Or maybe it’s only his that tastes so good.

Her teeth are bared, breath hot on his neck as she exhales, nearly shaking from the restraint it’s taking her to resist biting down.

He’s holding his breath, hands clenching the bedspread, eyes closed - he twitches when her teeth graze his skin, whimpering.

She wants to bite him so hard. But she won’t. She doesn’t want to sever his jugular and have him bleed out, after all. Instead, she chuckles darkly before licking his neck, up from the collar, almost to his ear.

He lets out a stuttering gasp as she does, followed by rapid little panting cries of distress and relief in equal measure.

“Oh god,” he moans. “D-do - do you eat people? H-how many people have you killed?”

What.

What??

“What did you just say?” Her voice somehow comes out flat. She’s trying not to laugh.

He thinks I’ve killed people? And eaten them?? Oh, my god. He’s even more scared of me than I thought. That’s so fucking cute.

“I - I - Nothing. I’m sorry.”

“No, no. How many people do you think I’ve killed?” She asks slowly.

“Uh. Three?”

She snorts.

“Five?” He sounds ever more alarmed when she doesn’t answer. “T-ten??”

She can’t help it. She starts laughing, resting her forehead on his shoulder. “Oh my god. I - I haven’t even killed one! Thanks for believing in me, though.”

“You… You - Wait, you’re not a serial killer?” He asks, bewildered.

“No,” she gasps, trying to stop laughing. “Don’t get me wrong, I mean - I’m flattered! But what, exactly, led you to believe I’m a serial killer?”

He makes flustered, defensive noises. “You - I - I kidnapped you and you - you just kept criticizing me! Like y-you had, I don’t know, experience with, with kidnapping and torturing people!”

She chuckles. “Oh, well - I mean, it doesn’t exactly take a master to recognize an amateur. Still, I definitely would have done a much better job than you did.”

“But you… you’ve never done.. this.. before?”

“You’re my first,” she purrs with satisfaction.

“But you’re so… “

“Good at it?” She smirks, toying with his leash. “I do seem to have a knack for this, don’t I, pet?” She pauses thoughtfully. “How long were you planning on doing it before you did?”

“I - uh - I got the idea a few months ago, but I never really thought about, y’know, actually doing it until.. last week.”

“So you only planned for a few days?” He nods, and she can’t help but scoff a little. “Wow. No wonder it sucked. I have been planning this - fantasizing about this - for years.“

“Years? You’ve been planning to - t-to do this to me for years?! Why??”

“Not you specifically, dumbass.” She rolls her eyes. “You just made it so irresistibly easy. God, you have no idea. I’d been resisting the hunger for so long, suppressing my urges, pretending to be a nice normal person - but god, the whole time, I was imagining exactly what I wanted to do and how I would do it. In a way, I’m almost grateful you chose me. It was the catalyst I needed to finally embrace who I really am.” She trails off with a hum of pleasure, stroking his collar lovingly.

“I made this myself. Spent months on it, perfecting it. I dreamed of the day someone would finally wear it. It looks so good on you. Mm, I can’t wait to use it again.”

He turns pale, looking back at her with those big teary eyes again. “Y-you won’t have to, Master! I’ll be good, I swear.”

“Oh, pet, I know,” she reassures him. “You’ll do anything I say, won’t you?”

“Yes, Master. Anything. Please don’t hurt me, you don’t have to - “

“I don’t have to - I want to hurt you.” She growls in his ear, fingers like claws as she drags him onto the bed, pins him down on his back so she can straddle his waist and stare down into his eyes.

He’s so fucking scared, her captured prey, and she wants to devour him. He’s panting, tears running down his face - he’s even struggling a little, writhing under her, which only turns her on more. “Master, please!”

She bends low over him, holding his wrists crossed over his head with one hand. “Oh, my dear pet, you knew this would happen.”

He stops struggling when she pulls the remote from her pocket with her free hand - panicked eyes darting between her hand and her face. “No. No,” he whimpers. “D-don’t. Please don’t. Not again!!”

She sighs in pleasure, reaching down to gently caress his hair, remote in her palm. “It’s only set to five. You’ll live. I love the way you beg, pet, I really do, but right now all I want is to hear you scream.”

The button only takes a gentle push, a split-second high-pitched whine before sharp, rapid crackling.

He screams, and it’s beautiful.

Eyes wild, back arching from the initial surge of pain, convulsing under her - a raw, shuddering wail of pain and fear and utter helplessness that sends a thrill down her spine.

She takes her finger off the button.

He collapses immediately, gasping.

She sits back with a moan, that delicious scream ringing in her ears. Fuck, that was so good.

Do it again.

He chokes when she looks down at him, “no, no!” - his second scream is almost better than the first. This one is higher pitched and more desperate, though it doesn’t last as long as the first one.

She shivers. He’s trembling between her legs, panting.

“Please stop! Please!”

The third scream doesn’t even sound human, an animalistic howl that leaves him whimpering like a kicked dog - he flinches when she reaches down to cup his face, but when he realizes a second later that the touch is gentle, he leans into it with a pathetic whine.

“You’re so perfect.” She whispers lovingly, releasing his wrists. His eyes flutter open, gazing up at her with a pleading little whimper as he nuzzles her hand - shamelessly using those pretty eyes to beg for mercy.

Her hand slides down from his cheek to his jaw, holding his head still as she runs her thumb across his bottom lip. There’s a trickle of blood. “Did you bite yourself?”

He nods.

“Aw. Poor thing.” His eyes widen as she leans down, a faint half-whimper as she licks the blood from his lip; then he just stares up at her, speechless, his mouth hanging slightly open.

Fuck, he tastes good.

She kisses him - he makes a muffled sound of half-hearted protest, trying to pull back, but her grip on his jaw holds him in his place. She purrs, kissing him harder: her fingers dig into his cheeks, prompting him to open his mouth.

She moans in satisfaction when he does, pulling away to take a deep breath and whisper “good boy” before kissing him again, deeper, licking into his mouth - his blood washing over her tongue.

He makes a sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper, going limp and opening his mouth wider, submitting.

So. Fucking. Perfect.

She sits back with a pleased sigh. His eyes are dilated, cheeks flushed, and he’s panting, one hand clutching his collar while the other is clenched in the sheets. His lips are tinted red with blood.

Gorgeous.

When she shifts her position a little, she can feel that he’s a little hard. Oh, really?

“You liked that, pretty thing?” she purrs.

He looks vaguely horrified, but doesn’t disagree.

“Even after all that pain? On your very first night? Damn. It’s like you were made to be my pet.”

God, I could just keep him tied to the bed. He’s so beautiful like this.

But as sorely tempting as that is - no. After all, as convincingly submissive as he seems, there’s still a chance that he’s acting.

He’d have to be an idiot to try to kill her in her sleep, but he may well be an idiot.

No, no, he has to earn her trust.

But still. Tempting.

“Come on, pet. On your feet.” She slides gracefully off the bed and pulls on the leash - he follows with much less grace, trying to shift his pants to conceal what she had very clearly felt. She just smirks at him.

“Wh-where are we going?” He looks at her nervously as she leads him out of her bedroom, his eyes flicking over to the staircase; he groans when he realizes she’s taking him downstairs. “No, please, I’ll be good!”

“Stop whining.”

By the time she gets him in the basement again, he’s trembling. Locking the leash around the pipes and cuffing his hands behind his back leaves him hyperventilating.

Then she goes to gag him, and he freaks out - stumbling backwards, gasping. “No, no please, y-you don’t need to - please don’t.”

One short shock is enough to drop him to his knees, whimpering miserably with his head bowed. “Didn’t you say you were going to be good?”

“Y.. yes, Master.”

He doesn’t struggle anymore as she shoves a knotted scarf into his mouth and ties it tightly in place, but there are tears in his eyes when he looks up at her.

Good.

“Now, stay. I’ll be back in the morning.”

————————————————————————————

@melpomenelamusa @hyper-real-hedgehog

[clevercatchphrase]

Page 290

Oops.

(Links coming in afternoon reblog!)

[slamminslamminmcgill]

getting these for logan so he can scratch you up without killing you

[mommymutt-lexi]

The final. Listen to him sob 💞

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Kinktober 5 - Muzzle/Pup Play

Slasher Johnny x Dog Trainer Darling (Reader/OC)

Slasher Handler Masterlist

CW: 18+/MDNI, pup play, electro shock, pup play, chastity device, confinement, denial, D/s dynamics

Johnny’s hands bracket you at the counter, so suddenly that you almost throw the strawberry you’re chopping into the air.

“Wee bit jumpy, hen?” His lips tickle against the back of your neck.

“How’re Simon and Precious?” you ask, ignoring your racing heart. No use rewarding bad behavior with attention. You pivot away when he tries to rub up against your ass. “No, Johnny. Go get ready for dinner, if you’re not going to talk to me.”

He huffs, then sniffs the back of your ear, the way he knows tickles. You swat him away, focusing on finishing the salad. The chicken is staying warm in the oven, along with the potatoes. Since Johnny is home, you whip up a quick gravy before tossing the strawberries in the salad.

You’re just finished dishing out your portions when Johnny strides into the kitchen, naked except for his collar and cock cage, pup hood held dangling from the fingers of one hand.

“Smells goo- ack!”

You set your most unimpressed face as he falls to his knees and grabs at the shock collar around his throat. You put your hands on your hips. “Bad dog. I said get ready for dinner.”

The glare he throws you is equal parts angry pup and devoted hound. You watch him think about pushing the boundaries further, eyes dancing between your eyes and your thumb on the remote to the shock collar. After a couple of beats, he grins.

“Ach, ah’m f’rgettin’ mah manners,” he chuckles, prowling forward on all fours. “C’n ye help me, pretty please?”

When he offers up the hood, you arch an eye brow. “You’re really pushing it, tonight.”

“Please, ma’am,” he purrs, blue eyes sparkling. “Ah can be a good dog.”

Johnny cannot be a good dog. He makes such a mess of his dinner it can’t be anything other than deliberate. He whines and cries worse than a puppy when you lock him in his crate while you clean up. It takes him almost three whole minutes to sit for you to let him back out.

“I don’t know why you don’t go for a run before you come home,” you mutter, pushing him off of the couch a third time while you try to watch your show. “What’s gotten into you? Speak.”

His voice is muffled behind the small gag built into the hood. “Please, c’n ah come?”

That makes you laugh. You take his chin in your hand and shake him as you coo, “Oh, so Simon got you all worked up chasing his girl around, hm? That’s why you’re so badly behaved tonight?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he groans, softening now that he’s got your hands and attention on him. “’M sorreh, ah tried to be good.”

“No you didn’t,” you chide. All the same, you lean down to kiss his snout and scratch at his mohawk. You coo as you cup his cheeks in your hands. “You decided to come in here and be the worst you’ve been since I brought you home. Didn’t you? Poor puppy.”

He whines, ears turning bright red. You watch him decide not to try to climb in your lap, and reward him by finally paying attention to the cage between his legs.

He’s half hard, straining against the rings of his cage in a way that looks genuinely painful. His hips twitch forward when you nudge the inside of his thigh. You let him duck his face against your thigh, pup mask keeping his face up, eyes on you.

And then he wraps his arms around your legs, pulling your legs so fast you can’t stop your socked feet from sliding between his thighs enough for him to start humping your leg.

When all you do is look at him with your eyebrows up, he picks up his pace, cage digging uncomfortably into your calf. Your leggings get wet with his excitement, almost immediately, and your knees grind together, but it’s not painful, so you don’t correct him.

He figures out his predicament soon enough.

“Fuck,” he snarls, tossing his head back. Wild eyes meet yours. “Please, hen, please, ah’m beggin. Lemme ou’, ah’ll be a good dog.”

You hit play on your show, and lean back, not paying him any attention at all. “Bad dogs don’t get rewards.”