#electrocution whump

[bltzgore]

Dude dude dude dude, D U D E

Tw: Electrocution

So when I'm whumpester diving occasionally I veer off heavily into electrocution whump.

- whumper shocking their heart in and out of rhythm on purpose

- when whumpee finally starts screaming (or stops)

- the jagged motions of muscle that no longer respond properly as whumpee lays on the ground clinging to consciousness

I particularly love this trope when it's paired with a defiant whumpee.

- swearing and immediately flinching

- whimpering when they see the implement and immediately cursing at themselves. Because even though their pride hasn't picked up on how terrified they should be their body sure has.

- getting up each time until they physically can't

- the point at which they no longer respond

- or better still, they can't. There's not enough time between shocks for them to get a word in

- the burn marks after

- wrote some

[silly-scroimblo-whump]

whumpee who is given an electric collar that only ever goes off when they try to escape. whumper, after watching whumpee become terrified of even approaching the exit, turns the collar off and never tells them.

whumper leaves the door wide open, goes in and out as they please. they even leave doors and windows outside the room open for whumpee to longingly stare at. they know whumpee will never muster the courage.

[otter-chaos-violence]

mining but whump (especially pre-industrail safety guidelines)

black lung, silicosis, falling off the ladders, carbon monoxide poisoning, mayve whumpee's the bird they bring down, cave ins, electrocution, axphyxsiation, trapped under rubble, boss is working Whumpee until they die, dynamite accidents, amputation.

so many flavors

[regular-whump-sfx]

Whumptober Day 10: Passing Out From Pain

This prisoner, this spying fox who calls himself Shepherd, he needs to be humbled.

He may not be the talking type, but from their attempted interrogations he was arrogant from the way he thought he is of equal footing as them. The way “Shepherd” would act and pretend to be helpless until they closer to him and become the victim of his lethal claws, even if it means he gets in pain when his restraints activate to simulate a crunching pain.

But that didn’t seem to bother the sly fox at all.

So they dragged him to a chair, tie up his legs, arms, wrists, and chest. One of the members volunteered to grab and pull his black hair to make him raise his head, for them to forcibly shove a metallic gag between his teeth. The sounds of his suppressed whimpers are admittedly satisfying, they can’t wait to see this arrogant fox scream in horror as they-

Click.

Click this button.

Shepherd makes a gagged choking scream as he convulses and struggle against his restraints, until he starts shaking with tremors from the electrifying knives that penetrate his neck and his chest. That’s it. That’s it… Whimper, cry, beg. Beg as if you’ve exhausted the gang’s hospitality for too much.

“I warned you.”

Click.

The prisoner twitches his body involuntarily, making ragged breaths and gasps as he slumps forward, about to pass out.

“Putting a muzzle on you feels too nice. I can give you something worse than a muzzle.

[whumpr]

Remember Me

She looked up to the ceiling before she could see the electrodes, but she still closed her eyes as he applied them.

Contains: Electrocution, Lady Whump, Silent Whumper, Masked Whumper, Torture, Captivity --

A bruising grip beneath her jaw kept her facing forward as the restraints were tightened around her head. Kris stared down her reflection in the guard’s mirrored mask, gloved fingers threatened bruises along her jaw and cheeks, blood had started to dry in her hairline, but she stared through her own eyes to the unseen gaze of the guard underneath. His hand moved to adjust the restraints clasped around her head. She followed a flash of ink to the hem of his sleeve; a small tattoo of a teddy bear peeked out from beneath his uniform. “The one with the little teddy.” She said, lip curled into a sneer. “I know about you. Marcello calls you ‘Bear.’” The guard finished securing her to the chair, turning away to roughly pull his sleeve over his tattoo as he made his way back across the room. “A sick sadist, he says.” She continued, “A monster, high on power. Is that true? Because I am looking at you now and I don’t think it’s true.” The guard crossed back across the room to her. He knelt to pull at the restraints at her ankles, then her calves, wrists, biceps. Making sure each was secure and tightening the ones she might have room to move in. “A sick sadist, yes.” She said, “But power?” She grunted as he forced her head back into the chair’s wooden headrest to fasten her tighter in place. Her head was forced into a subtle backwards tilt, and her voice strained with the angle of her neck.

“See, I notice your uniform. The–The colors on your helmet. Yours are blue. Barely visible. If you ranked higher you’d have gold. Wouldn’t you? Have you not earned a color that lets you be seen?” The guard knelt in front of her again. A fabric bag in front of him that she knew all too well. He unzipped it slowly–the sound made her breath catch in her throat. “But, blue, gold, gray, that doesn’t matter. Does it? If you had any power to be high on you wouldn’t be one of Lawton’s little faceless lackeys.” The chill of alcohol swabs on her skin set her nerves on edge. She looked down to watch the guard take off one leather glove and replace it with medical latex. He gathered the conductive gel onto two fingers. Her stomach roiled as he applied it to her arms, down her calves. He didn’t look at her, he didn’t even pause at her taunts. She looked up to the ceiling before she could see the electrodes, but she still closed her eyes as he applied them. “You haven’t even earned a uniform that fits you.” She whispered, her eyes screwed shut. “Or do you just fold the sleeves back to show off your little bear?” A latex gloved hand, slick with conductive gel, fixed itself beneath her chin. Her eyes snapped open as the guard’s fingers tightened against her jaw.

The mask reflected her wide eyes back to her, tears she hadn’t been aware of brimming in her eyes already. She set her jaw, hands gripping the arms of the wood chair beneath her. She watched as ice replaced the fear in her reflection’s eyes, even as she failed to blink her tears away.

“Bastard.” She whispered.

The guard secured the leather gag between her teeth.

He stepped away from her, snatching a small black remote from the metal table just behind him. The way he walked was smooth, confident, with a casual sway in his shoulders. He crossed the small room and pivoted on his heel to face Kris again as he leaned back against the wall.

He raised his right hand–the one with the remote–and let his sleeve fall enough to show the tattoo again. He tapped the bear with his left hand, then slowly raised those two fingers to tap his mask at the temples.

Remember me. He seemed to say.

He passed the remote into his left hand and flipped the switch.

[sickfictropes]

Thoughts on ptsd symptoms for a whumpee who was often electrocuted (via VERY strong taser)?

ooh okay!! i had to do a little research but an electric shock can cause a lot of long-term damage: physical, neurological, and psychological. to focus on the PTSD element, here's what i found from some case studies.

-Irritability, frustration, anger, and physically aggressive behaviour have been described after electrical injury in persons without preinjury mood or personality disorders.

-they might experience all the common symptoms of PTSD including mood changes, flashbacks, nightmares and insomnia, behavioral changes, etc.

-i couldn't find anything about what potential flashback triggers might be, but i can imagine it might include things like being cornered, situations in which another party might have a weapon, lingering physical pains like neuropathy, loud sounds, burns, and any other things that might remind the person of the specific circumstances of their injury.

thanks for asking me things and i hope this was helpful in some way!

[auroragehenna]

AI-less Whumptober

Day 22 - Torture Tuesday (Forced (to kneel/watch/hurt somebody else), whipped, “Do not look away.”)

"Torture, watching stuff, singing"

TW/CW: Forced to kneel, livestreamed torture, multiple different torture methods, whipping deluxe, knife whump, multiple whumpers-sorta, creepy/intimate whumper, electrocution whump, taunting, prideful whumpee, scared whumpee, smug whumper, quick mentions/implications of non-con and cannibalism, cursing Word count: 2'544

Adam had spent the last hours setting up everything on his laptop. Camera, livestream, cash automatics. He was sitting popped up against the wall of the pool, occasionally lifting his gaze from the screen to leer over at Lyra.

Lyra was camped in the middle of the room, sitting as straight as possible on a metal floor for hours. She refused to sit to the other side of the room, now knowing what Adam was planning. But also knew it was pointless to try and sit next to him. At best he would just close his laptop, at worst he would...Do something. Taunt her or use it as a opportunity for a punishment. So she stayed right where she was, sitting straight, observing Adam or thinking.

Adam hit a few last clicks until everything was ready and connected. Then he set his laptop aside and caught Lyra's gaze with a sneer. "Well then, feel free to see for yourself. I know you've been dying to know what I'm doing."

Lyra narrowed her eyes, internally she was seething. Adam once again got her right where he wanted her. But she might as well indulge him now, it was better than waiting for him to commence his sick game. So she clumsily stood up, trying not to fall on blood-less legs. Once she got to about an arm's length away, bit more, she stopped. Remaining standing.

Adam smiled at her. „Sit your ass down, before I break your kneecaps and make you.“, he threatened saccharinely sweet.

Lyra glared but yielded nevertheless. Sitting down with her legs propped up. „So what‘s now?“

Adam in one fluid motion reached out for his laptop and turned it screen facing Lyra. So that his plaything could see the waiting screen of a livestream including a few of the set ups. The camera showing a dimly lit tiled looking just like…The storage rooms of this building…! Oh no. Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Lyra‘s face slowly losing colour as realization set in told Adam everything he needed to know. „You value your cute little defiance like it’s gold. Well tonight its gonna benefit me.“

„What‘s your plan?“, Lyra asked, banishing the fear out of her voice as well possible. She knew that some people on the dark web watched and payed for live streams of people getting tortured or eaten or…other things. Adam bringing this up terrified her to the bone because it wasn‘t him! It didn‘t fit his usual style. And that made it and him unpredictable.

„Where would be the fun in telling you beforehand?“

„You do know that streaming is a hardworking field, I’m sure even more so in the dark web. I doubt you‘re even gonna get one viewer. You can’t do this shit from scratch.“

„Oh yeah. You‘re probably right. I guess then we‘ll just have to work up to it regularly, am I right?“, Adam mused.

Lyra closed her mouth. If looks could kill...She hated when he twisted her words. And he always did.

„Or you know. We could just assume that I prepared and thought of that already.“

In front of Lyra‘s inner eye the last couple serious torture sessions flashed by. All of them had have a camera present. Sometimes in the corner, sometimes directly in front of her. „Oh you motherfucker…!“

„Finally counted one and one together, hm? You‘re already known, sweetheart. And now move!“ He grabbed her by arm and stood up, effectively dragging her along. Towards the edge of the basin and then pulling her out, after climbing out first. With one arm keeping a bruising grip on Lyra and the other one carrying the laptop, they made their way down to the storage rooms. They had originally been used to keep PE equipment and were quite large. Now Adam had turned them into his personal torture video stage.

Lyra wanted to resist so badly but if she trashed and Adam‘s laptop dropped then…Yeah she'd rather not imagine. Instead her thoughts drifted to what Adam could do to her for views...But that wasn't something she wanted to dwell on either. Especially because she wasn't so sure where his limits laid...Not anymore.

It was really hard for Adam to keep himself from laughing since he could basically hear the panicked wheels turn in Lyra's mind. It was a little nerve wrecking for him as well, seeing that he never did anything like it. After setting down his laptop, he led Lyra to a pole in the middle of the room. Untangling the shackled lengths of chain and letting them run over his hands loudly. Just playing with his prey.

"Stop looking at me like I'm meat and get to the point.", Lyra impulsively spat out. Immediately regretting it at Adam's delighted grin.

"Aww.", He closed in on her. "What's wrong, Thýma? Hm. You're not scared, are you?"

Lyra's gulped, her breath hitching as her personal space was reduced to ashes. "Scared that you're going to mess up and embarrass us both." she answered, attempting to sound unimpressed. It clearly wasn't working. She hated when he got this close. Hated it.

The red haired guy stepped even closer, seeing clearly through her facade. He raised his hand and with one singular finger tilted her chin up until she was all but forced to keep eye contact with him. "Oh please, Lyra. We both know you can't lie. Not to me."

Adrenaline surged through Lyra's veins like lightning. She knew she should say something, anything. To save her mask, but she couldn't.

Adam laughed. "Save yourself the trouble." He dropped her chin and returned to pulling the chains to a ring at the top of the pole and locking Lyra's wrist in the metal shackles. Currently they were long enough for her to stand with her arms stretched above her. Then he went to turn on the camera, he also had a projector attatched to his computer, projecting the video of the livestream to the wall opposite of Lyra. So she could see everything, see herself. When everything was working and double-checked he started the stream and put on a mask. Then he added a title at the top of the frame "Forced to kneel"

Lyra gluped hard. She did already not like this game. And yet she knew she wouldn't just give up. Couldn't. And deep, sharp grief flamed up in her chest at that.

Adam now began to talk again, pacing the area with slow, measured steps: "I'm sure your eyesight is good enough to see the title of today's session. That's where were gonna be by the end of it. When people come to watch they can donate money and wish for certain things to happen to you. Any questions?"

"Fuck you, you little shit!"

"Guess not then, let's get started, shall we?", he said and unfurled a whip at arm's length. This particular whip was loosely wrapped with barbed wire. When he aimed two lashes to the floor to warm up his wrist the sharp sound was layered with the tear of metal hitting metal.

Lyra shivered as she saw the whip. She hated wips. But so did Adam?? Didn't seem to matter though. She was just about ready to lose it at that, the feeling of losing her grip on everything she thought she had analyzed! No. Fuck that, ignore it for now and just focus on what's happening now. Don't break the rules.

Without further warning Adam snapped his wrist and the whip hit Lyra across her collarbone, immediately drawing blood and tearing skin from the impact and the barbed wire. Blood quickly quelling out of the torn skin.

The hit tore an involuntary scream from Lyra's throat, despite her having braced for the pain. The barbed wire's impact on her skin amplified the fire to a thousand. Instinctely Lyra had ripped her arms down and now the shackles were biting into the tender skin around her wrists. "Ughfuck. Fuck you, Adam!", she bit out hatefully, voice pressed from pain. Then she got distracted by the projected life steam of herself. Oh gods. There was someone, there were people. Not many so far, but oh gods there were other people, seeing her, watching her get tortured. More danger more danger more danger.

Adam followed his plaything's horrified gaze and smiled broadly. "Welcome, welcome. Enjoy the show or influence it. Its about to become so much fun."

Lyra stretched her legs again until they supported her weight and held her chin up high. She would not be reduced to a pathetic, sobbing mess for these people!

When Adam flicked the whip again it hit Lyra square across her thighs. Blood splattered across the floor as he hit the thighs right afterwards again. And then again.

At that point her legs were a bloody, torn mess and the chains on her arms were straining in the shackles, trying to hold her body up while her legs turned into pure pain and fire. With how much pressure she pressed her teeth together in order to keep control it was a miracle they hadn't shattered yet.

Suddenly a loud ping sound interrupted the two and both looked over to the projected livestreamed. Lyra looked away as she saw herself as if burned but then couldn't stand not knowing what was going to happen so she looked back. Someone had donated money. Adam grinned as he approached the laptop. "Thank you so much username for your donation. I will now spin this lovely wheel you see here-he pulled a previously opened tab into the screen-"And whatever we hit I'm going to do to her."

Adam clicked the wheel and it sprang to live, turning into a mix of colour before eventually settling on: Electrocution. "Ah a classic, wonderful." He minimized the tab again before spinning around on his wheel and all but skipping towards a small table and rummaging on it before turning around with a taser in hand. "Now." He approached Lyra, his entire attention noticably falling on only her. "Where to start, where to start. What should I do, hm?", he asked luringly. Without activating it yet he placed the taser against the enby's side.

Lyra who was painfully, horribly reminded of many other tortures at once tried to figure out the best strategy through the fog of pain fear. But it felt like grasping at nothing.

"Come on now, Lyra, suggest something or I'm going to make it twice as bad."

"Okay, fine. But under protest. Under the arms, the skin there is quite sensitive isn't it..." She wanted to rip her own tongue out.

"How right you are.", he exclaimed, smiling and in the next moment jabbed the taser on exactly onto that place. Stepping aside to show the camera fully just how much she convulsed and shook under the elecricity. A beautifully raw and half-repressed scream rang through the room and Adam could see tears glistering in Lyra's eyes when she opened them again. Still pressing the taser into her skin he let it travel over her stomach and ribs to the other armpit. But before he shocked he looked to the stream. There was a comment being read out loud: "Non-con?"

"No.", Adam simply replied, before turning around again. He scooped his hand under Lyra's head and tilted it up, making her hold eye contact.

Lyra, still shaking from the aftershocks, bit back a terrified whimper at the question but relief drippled through her veins at Adam's rejection. She didn't pull away when he lifted her head, needing the gentle touch in all of this, even for just a moment.

Adam's neutral expression turned into a snarl as he released her head and jabbed the taser into her throat with force.

Lyra's entire mind exploded into pain as guttural, strained noises wound themselves out of her throat. As fast as it started as fast it was done.

Then a new donation goal was reached and Adam let off his prey to step towards his laptop. Electrocution had already been removed. After spinning for a few moments the wheel landed on "Knives"

Perfect. One last gig. He had already collected a lot of money for a an experiment. Adam walked back to the table set the taser down only to pick up a fitted blindfold with which he walked back to Lyra.

"What's your plan?", she rapsed out as she saw her tormentor approach with the blindfold. For her taste it had been enough about thirthy minutes ago already, she thought sarcastically. Exhaustion stained her being and she wanted only to cower somewhere in a darkened corner alone. Far away from these other people, with their obscune and sadistic comments, and away from Adam. She did not want the blindfold and whatever it entailed.

"Oh you'll see. Or...well you won't. But I'm sure you'll feel it.", he grinned and pulled the blindfold over her braided hair and over her eyes. Then he walked back to the table and off camera took off his shoes before picking up a set of knives and the taser.

The comments on the screen turned even more euphoric as Adam approached Lyra again with this setup.

Lyra couldn't see any of that, didn't know what was going on. And she detested it! Anxiously she strained to try and hear Adam's foosteps, maybe he was still at the laptop or the table. But then she flinched hard and her heart seemed to jump out of her chest as electricity crackled to live right next to her left ear. A terrified whump escaped her lips. And then she heard Adam's laughter. Mocking, luring and sadistic. And way.too close. Suddenly cold metal glided across her lips, the blade of a knive!

"So, Thýma, what's it going to be...? Are you going to kneel?", Adam asked. With a quick motion of his hands he lengthened the chains so Lyra would be able to fall to her knees.

"No.", Lyra protested weakly. Nearly whispering.

Adam chuckled and continued to circled Lyra, cutting her on different patches of skin, different directions, no rhytm, catching her off guard every time and scaring her. With one last glance to the timer on his clock he soundlessly stepped behind Lyra and swiftly cut a harsh line from the bottom of her spine upwards. Knowing damn well what it would do.

Lyra screamed, her eyes widening underneath the blindfold as her body collapsed to the floor, crashing to its knees. Oh no. SHIT. She wanted to stand up but her legs didn't want to comply, the open wounds on the floor felt as if her legs had been dipped into pure acid. Tears welled up in her eyes, dampening the blindfold as her whole body shook. Suddenly a hand was placed a top her head, forcefully pressing it even lower the next second. "Told you it would always end like this.", Adam's voice sounded above her.

The pleased viewers behind the screens had watched everything and heard everything thanks to mics attatched to Adam and the pole. They surely would have had more money and motivation to continue but as the masked torturer stepped towards his laptop the livestream cut off roughly and dissapeared. Session over, thank you for watching and donating.

Taglist: @ailesswhumptober, @yourlocalgaefae33, @princessofhe11, @greatkittencloud, @bisexuawolfsalt

@shattermind-8

[sacredwrath]

P6. An invitation

Torture for information, attempted figting back, drowning, water torture, electrocution, single use of the word rapist, fear of non con (doesn't happen), broken bones mention, begging, death wish, surreal kinda

Jesse has no idea how long it takes them to come back to themself, and when they do they're horrified. What the hell did they do? The details are lost in a hazy blur of burning and terror, but they remember enough. They remember leaning into Intelligence Specialist Adrian Morgan arms and wanting him to hold them. Well, wanting to be held at least, and his arms were there. His arms. Of all the arms on earth his were the last they wanted anywhere near them. Their throat constricts. What if they'd given him ideas? A shudder runs through them. They can't stomach the thought. Until now he's never done anything to show he's that kind of evil, but he tortures people for a living, would they really put it past him?

They're trembling again.

A surge of anger bubbles up. They're so tired of being afraid all the damn time, of always fucking shaking!

They notice Morgan's duffle laying open on the floor. He's never been so careless. They don't know if their collar will let them close enough to grab it, but they don't care, they have to try. If Morgan comes back with ideas, they'll be ready with a surprise of their own.

They can't crawl with their arms tied and one leg broken so they resort to dragging themself across the floor. It's excruciating. Every part of their body protests. Their broken ribs scrape against cement, making it difficult to breathe.

After several pulls they have to take a break. Letting tears pour down their face as they focus on regaining their breath. But they don't let themself rest long. Who knows how long Morgan will be gone. And when he comes back they have to be ready for anything.

They reach the end of their chain and stretch as far as they can towards the bag, it's still a good foot out of reach. They shout at it in frustration, trying again, but try as they will they just can't reach. Then they see it, off to their side, within reach of the chain. Adrians whip laying on the floor, it looks like it's bleeding. Bleeding Jesse's own blood out onto the cold cement. They snag it with their good foot.

It feels strange, holding the weapon. It's heavier than they thought, softer too. The handle is worn, with distinct groves for Morgan's fingers. It makes them sick thinking of how many people it's been used on. For an absurd moment they wonder if he cleans it.

They manage to hook the whip through the duffles handle, and gritting their teeth drag it to them.

Jesse grins in triumph. They upend the bag and dig through the contents with a strange mixture of elation and horror. There are different size knives, hammers, pliers, several coiled whips, canes of every size and variety, a box of long needles and fish hooks, rope, a baseball bat, soldering iron, jumper cables, and other more sinister tools they can't identify. Some things are wrapped in cloth or tucked into separate cases for safe storage. One of these looks like a first aid kit. Jesse opens that one eagerly. Emergency first aid supplies spilling out onto the ground. They rummage through it, looking for pain pills but find nothing. Instead, they set aside a roll of gauze and some antibiotic ointment and go back to the weapons.

They settle on a small but sharp knife, first using it to cut though the rope binding their hands, then to cut several long strips of gauze. They leave it next to them while they attempt first aid. The antibiotic ointment stings, but not as bad as the alcohol Morgan sometimes uses. They slather it over every open wound they can reach. The newest one on their back goes untreated.

The first bones Morgan broke were their fingers, and by now they're well into their healing process though still crooked and unsteady. The wrist of the same hand was also broken early on and takes the most abuse from the restraints. They wrap it in gauze. Next, their ribs. They pull off a long strip and begin winding it around their torso. They have no idea how tight it should be, but leaving it unsupported is excruciating.

Noises at the cell door.

They freeze for just a second before dropping the gauze and scrambling for the knife. The door opens. Morgan stops in the doorway, taking in the scene. All Jesse's triumphant bravery evaporates in an instant, replaced by dread. His eyebrow quirks up.

"What happened here?" He doesn't sound cold, which Jesse takes as a good sign. He looks more amused than angry, but amused still isn't a safe emotion. He takes a step into the room.

"Stop!" They shout. "Stay back." They aren't incompetent with a knife, they've used them in fights before, but not when they're anywhere near as weak as this. They can't even stand up and their arms tremble, partially with fear, but partially from the simple effort of holding the knife aloft. Nevertheless Morgan raises his hands in surrender.

He takes a few steps, reminding Jesse again of a jungle cat prowling for its dinner.

"I said don't come any closer!" They shout, forcing the fear from their voice, but he's grinning now.

"I have to say, this is a little pathetic, isn't it?" He takes another few steps forward.

They lunge, slashing out with the knife, but in the same moment, Morgan kicks out, easily knocking their blow aside. He attacks, knee colliding with their face, knocking them onto the floor, before slamming his foot down on their wrist. He digs in, crushing their fingers against the cement.

"Drop it" his voice is low and dangerous, but it feels so good to have a weapon in their hand again. Their bones creek and strain, but don't break, not yet.

They scrabble with their other hand looking for another weapon and find... something. Their broken fingers struggle to grasp it, but when they have it in hand they finally let the knife go.

"Good." He purrs. They swing the other tool with all their might, slamming it into the side of his knee. He doesn't flinch, but they do, the shock of the impact sending jagged searing spikes of pain from their broken wrist and fingers shooting up their arm.

He looks down at what they're holding and they do too. It's a pair of pliers.

"Now, what do you plan on doing with those?" Frustrated tears spring to their eyes and the swing again. He doesn't even try to back away, and their strike bounces harmlessly off him. "Pathetic." He murmurs, "go on, hit me again, I dare you." They can't tell if he's threatening or inviting for his own amusement. They hesitate before letting the pliers fall from their fingers. Defeated

"Good!" He sounds genuinely pleased now "you do have some instinct for self preservation after all."

"It wasn't an invitation!" They blurt before they can think better of it. He looks confused.

“What?”

"Before. I- I don't know what happened, but it wasn't an invitation." It takes him a second to understand, but then his face goes hard.

"I didn't think it was."

"Good." Their voice is high and tight as they try to sound dismissive, not terrified. "I just didn't want you to think..." they ramble. "didn't want you to get... any- ideas. I didn't-"

"Stop talking." They flinch with the force of the words, mouth snapping shut. They've never seen him truly angry, threatening yes, cold, yes, but right now, he looks livid. His lips pull back into a snarl, and he actually growls as he lunges for them. "I only want one thing from you, Jesse! What do I want? Hmm?"

"I’m sorry" they stammer "im sorry, im sorry." He drags them from the floor by their hair, lifting them into the air so that they’re on eye level with him.

"One thing Jesse, what is it? What do I want?" Spittle hits their face and his eyes bore into them

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry" hair ripps from their scalp

"All I want from you," He hollers, shaking them with each word "is the location of your fucking base!" He turns hurling them against the metal tub

"I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry" They try to disappear into themself, cringing, uncaring about the agony radiating through their body. Hiding behind their arms the only words their frantic mind can muster are apologizes and they gable them out as fast as they can speak "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry-"

Morgan grabs the back of their head, forcing them underwater.

They struggle. Hands scrabbling against the tub, against Morgan's hand in their hair, trying to find leverage, to pry themself free, but his fingers are like steel cables. Their lungs scream for air. Is this it? Did they push him too far? He'll kill them, drown them in anger, but then they're pulled up. Air rushes into their waterlogged lungs

"WHERE IS YOUR BASE!" He shouts in their ear, plunging them back underwater before they have a chance to respond

316 Abbot ln the words surface in their mind unbidden as they dig their nails deep into his arm, tearing. If anything his grip tightens, more hair ripping from their scalp as he forces them deeper.

He holds them there till they’re choking water into their lungs. Till the world is spinning, growing dark around the edges. Only then pulling them up.

They gasp in not even a full breath before they're back. The unfinished breath sucks water in and they panic, thrashing, drowning.

The next thing they're aware of is an overwhelming pain in their chest. They vomit water onto the floor, sweet air finally filling their lungs. Morgan's fists stop pounding their chest. And he drags them back towards the tub.

"Adrian please," they're crying, still choking, barely able to draw breath "I'm sorry- please-" They cling to his arm, deperate to stay above water

"If you want me to stop, you'll tell me exactly what I want to know. Are you ready to talk?"

They can only manage a whimper

"Didn't think so" and they're drowning again. They try to stay calm, as their oxygen runs out, but too soon their lungs demand to breathe and they suck in water again please no, please please please they beg to anyone, to no one. Please! Their world is fading away again, exauseted struggles growing weaker, till finally they're dragged up again.

They choke on air, trying to draw breath around their panic and water still clinging to their lungs.

"Where is your base?" They brace to be shoved down again, but this time they're struck by lightning.

Every muscle in their body contracts at once. Their nerves alight with an indescribable agony. They're tearing apart, burning from the inside out. They thought they knew pain before, but that was nothing compared to this. Nothing was anything compared to this. Is this what it feels like to die? Are they screaming? They taste copper and the sickening chared taste of their own burning.

When it ends they're frozen in shock. Their mind can't keep up, fragments of thought spin around them, but they're unable to grasp a single one. Splinters of lightning still zing through their broken body eliciting spasms of agony.

Morgan leans close, his lips centimeters from their ear and hisses "I'm not a fucking rapist" the venom in his voice sends ice shooting down their spine, and then they're on fire again. Being shredded apart by their own muscles. Their voice breaks apart like their thoughts, disintegrating under the intensity. They are left silent, mouth torn open in a scream that isn't a scream.

It takes a long moment before they realize it's over. They can't move, can't cry, can't even think. They're barely able to gasp in shallow breaths. A cheek against the cold cement lets them know they're not dead.

Why aren't they dead?

They wish they were dead

Words reach them from somewhere far away.

"... base? Where is… base?"

They don't understand.

And then the water swallows them whole. There's no strength left in them to struggle. No strength and no will. After the electricity, drowning almost feels peaceful. They open their eyes and watch strands of hair dance by. Bubbles from their lips join the dance. It's beautiful. Their lungs burn, but they don't care, what happens if they just let themself drown?

Morgan pulls them up before they can find out.

"Jesse look at me" he slaps their face, dragging them around to make eye contact. Their head is spinning off somewhere otherworldly and it's hard to concentrate. "Where. Is. Your. Base." He speaks each word slowly, enunciating clearly. "where is your base?"

Base isn't right. It's not a base

"Where. Is. Your. Base?"

316 Abbot ln. Home. He wants to know where their home is?

"Tell me and I'll stop."

Lightning destroys them again. They see nothing but white. Stop, please! They beg, 316 Abbot ln, 316 Abbot ln. Their tired mind gables desperate for relief, please! and it stops.

They lay broken on the ground

"What?" Morgan shouts, but he isn't looking at them. The scene plays out like a dream. A dream they are only half paying attention to, drowned out by the chaos of dying. Boots by their head, getting to their feet. Another set of boots by the door, rushing to Morgian's side.

"...damn good reason… interrupting me."

Furious whispers. A blow. Morgan on the floor next to them, eyes closed. Different boots crouching down.

"You too"

A dull pain in their head, ushering them almost gently into oblivion.

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Tag list:) @whumpacabra

[bltzgore]

Answers, starring: Zip, Hendrickson, and Trix

Tw: electrocution, afib, torture, superpowers/superhumans, blood, language

So remember me ranting about electrocution whump? I wrote a thing.

Hendrickson walked over once he was restrained, getting a grip in Zip's hair and pull until their eyes met. "You think you're strong don't you? Think you can make me look bad by treating this whole situation like a joke?" He was clearly getting frustrated.

Zip tugged his lips into a sneer, pressing back a wince when it tugged on where they split, then narrowed his eyes to match. "I mean, I think my actions speak for themselves."

"Well, we'll see how long you can keep smirking this time." He turned away, letting Zip's head drop, "Trix, get in here!"

A tallish, lean looking, woman strolled in. She had fire red hair and eyes that glinted like iron. She didn't seem rattled by Hendrickson's yelling unlike his underlings. Zip began to feel uneasy as he felt her eyes on him. Like she was marking points on his body for attack or further investigation.

She hadn't come up during any of the mission briefings. Was she some sort of hired help? She walked around behind him. He tried not to but couldn't keep his gaze from following her.

She placed her hands on his back, and he fought a shiver. He didn't like this. He didn't know where it was going, but the cool, almost metallic cold of her hands and his sheer powerlessness to stop her touching him caused the first real fear since he'd been captured. His muscles tried to twitch, his body ordering him away from her despite his chained wrists. His breath quickened as fear began to drink away his cocky attitude. Zip forced his attention back to Hendrickson as he started talking.

"You know the base codes, and you're going to give them to us."

"Yeah, sure," but his retort was dry, he wasn't focused on Hendrickson this time.

Hendrickson nodded to Trix, and before Zip could glance, his muscles were forced tense and twitching as electricity wired its way from one of Trix's hands through his back to the other. He had been caught off guard. He hadn't been able to scream before his body had left his control. As the shocks stopped, he started breathing again, trying to keep them even and unhurried.

"The codes, or you know what happens next."

"Go fuck yourself." Zip answered, keeping up the shadow of his easy going attitude.

There was the nod, and the electricity shot through him again. He had been ready for it or trying to be. He locked his jaw, trying to take it, a deep growl like groan ripped up through his throat. His back started to arch as the volts increased, and then it stopped. He fell almost limp, but the chains kept him upright and with some sense of dignity, for that he was somehow thankful.

"Do you value your life?" Hendrickson asked darkly.

Zip's mouth felt tingly, but he pressed past it. "Sorta, but I guess I value fucking you over more." He could see the rage boiling in Hendrickson's eyes. That made him feel pretty good. It almost overcame the desire to shrink down in terror as he felt Trix's hands shift a little lower, fingers brushing painfully over burnt skin.

"I've been taking it easy on you because I need you alive, but remember, I know you're not human. I think you can take a little more than a regular person." Then he looked past Zip. "Have your fun, but you're done once you shock his heart out of rhythm."

He didn't have a chance to get another word in, Hendrickson turned away, and his muscles seized up. Trix started to bombard him with electricity.

She wasn't much of a talker. He had tried to strike up some form of conversation. Some form of control, he realized with mild disgust. Was he that scared of her? He couldn't even see her, maybe that's why it was worse. He couldn't see her planning, couldn't tell if his jabs landed, or even tell when another burst would start. No rhythm, no hints, a shock could show up any second. It made him jittery.

Now that she wasn't being used to make an immidate point, she held the shocks longer. Instead of keeping them consistent, she would draw the voltage up and down like a fucked up bo on a fucked up violin.

His muscles twitched and tore, like someone had threaded a wire through them and was pulling, and yanking, and shaking it. Sparks danced through his nerves and into his vision, causing it to slip away completely. This happened a few times, but it was never for very long, never for as long as he would have hoped.

It was three rounds in when Zip finally screamed. He had been trying to keep himself together, but as the intensity had raised again above what he thought he could live through, his voice tore free. He had screamed long and hard the first and second times. It was around the fourth or fifth when his voice gave out. It was twelve rounds in when Trix finally stopped, which meant she must have met Hendrickson's criteria.

It was chest pain and breathing difficulties mostly. Something he hardly even noticed when in conjunction with the energy demon clawing up his back. He just heard her swear then felt another jolt. He was too exhausted to do anything other than hang there and take it. But this charge was different. It had purpose, racing in and resetting his heart.

Trix finally took her hands off his back and walked around front, joining Hendrickson, who had returned some time in the past few minutes. If Zip had enough strength left, he would have worried about what it meant that he didn't notice that.

Zip was in ruins, his muscles shuttered and twitched of their own accord. His weight was all on his wrists, and he couldn't see straight. His back felt like it was smoking, but the burning was so deep he wasn't sure it was even real.

Blood was trickling down somewhere in his throat or mouth. It was almost choking him, maybe a burst blood vessel, or maybe the bleeding of his split lip had been renewed. Nausea crept up on him like a bear, and he had to rally every still functioning brain cell towards keeping it from getting the better of him.

"You got quite the demonstration. You've got the next ten hours to decide if this is how you want to die-" but Hendrickson's ultimatum was cut short. Something that sounded just short of a town riot, far off down the hall, then suddenly not so far off, and it was that moment that Hendrickson regretted not closing the door...

[whump-or-whatever]

Rb with why you prefer the one you chose! I’m curious

[rizzoto-whump]

@juneofdoom​ alt. prompt - “It didn't have to be this way,”

"It didn't have to be this way if you stayed with me, Whumpee."

[3-2-whump]

Wow Birthday Event Day Four:

Electrocution

I’ve never drawn this specific torture circumstance before, so if the poses are off or the expression is bad, go lightly, I am still learning 🙇🏻‍♀️

[zoeywhumps]

whumpay day 2: "paralytic drug"

@whumpay

katya couldn't move. her eyes flitted across the ceiling, waiting for something- anything- to happen. the last thing she remembered... pain. and now, she could barely feel her limbs, let alone any painful sensations.

"hello, miss malinov."

she couldn't see who was speaking, since they didn't come into her field of view. and then, she couldn't see at all, as dark, thick glasses were placed over her eyes and fitted around her head with a strap.

"this virtual reality headset will track your eye movements. if you make the right choices, i will grant you certain privileges. if you choose wrong, you will be punished accordingly."

a terrible vision came to life in front of her eyes. xiaoyan was tied to a chair, her head lolled forwards with two black eyes, bruises and wounds littering her body. a gun was pointed towards her... held by hands that resembled katya's own.

"you need to kill her, my dear. put her out of her misery. if you blink twice in succession, you will end her life."

no, no. she couldn't. katya's thoughts were sluggish, and she didn't know what was real. but she knew she couldn't kill her friend.

"they've abandoned you, you know. they're not looking for you. go ahead. kill her. she left you for dead."

that couldn't be true, katya refused to believe that.

"you have five seconds to make your decision."

katya already knew her decision. she refused to kill xiaoyan, or anyone who didn't deserve it.

"tsk, tsk. perhaps next time, you'll make the right choice."

a horrible shock went through her, her body trembling and shuddering, her back arching from the intense tearing pain all throughout her body. she couldn't even cry out.

"now, let's try again. i'll give you one minute to reach your decision. i can do this all day, miss malinov... can you?"

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

I love reading fics where my favourites are electrocuted… because I love them so much… because I love Barry so much :) -Flash anon

As you should😌

It’s so fun!!!

And electrocution is such a good trope for him because of his powers. It’s that contrast between it and his own lightning. Electricity that hurts when it should heal, something wrong when it should be right, etc.

[stagelightwhump]

Does it have to be a blorbo from my shows or can it be MY blorbo? Because I kind of want to know what they'd do to Mal https://www.tumblr.com/distracted-obsessions/750327129941639170/knock-knock-mal-groaned-at-the-knock-at-the

You can absolutely submit home-made blorbos! And I must say, this one is very interesting!

First of all, the ears would need to be stretched and molded into shape, which, thankfully, is rather easy, as ears are made of cartilage. Next, even though no tails are mentioned in the story, a retractable cord tail is still installed, so that the Unit can be charged. If requested, a wolf tail cover can be added.

Next, barring the presence of something like pawpads on the hands or feet (in which case, depending on how divergent it is from the human bauplan, they would either be fatty silicone implants, or the hands or feet would be replaced entirely), the Chip is then installed, and memories of the source timeline are implanted, as well as a weaving program.

Finally, in order to avoid issues with improper or unregulated voltage, a shock collar is installed directly and permanently onto the neck, integrated with the C6 vertebrae. This is to ensure that any voltage administered is low enough not to damage either the organic system, or the electronics within the Unit's repaired systems. For higher voltages, the Chip manually simulates the damages instead, resulting in the same mental effects and physical pain as a normal shock collar, without causing unnecessary damage or stress to the internals.

Once the Unit is fully repaired and functional, it is placed back into the crate it arrived in (or given a new one, if the crate is somehow missing or damaged), secured in place, and shut down until delivered to the purchaser.

Thank you so much for the ask! I love doing these :D

[echoingalaxies]

Heya how are you doing today?

Do they have any phobias or fears? If so, how would you use them against your OC in torture?

For Rina please and thank you.

Hey! I'm alright, how about you?

I think Riina would be afraid of losing her independence and mobility, as she is physically very strong and active. She loves to exercise and is very much a "I don't need help I can do this alone" type of person. She'll get embarrassed whenever that attitude fails her.

So, doing anything to make her to not be in control of her body, taking what she loves to do away from her, would be a very efficient way to torture her. Mess up her legs so she can't run, mess up her arms so she can't climb. Other people will have to help her with daily things, which will be hard to accept for her for a long time - she should be doing that to them.

Later on Riina will also develop a phobia of electricity due to what actually happened during torture, and sometimes she'll be scared of to touch anything that might give her "zaps" and trigger flashbacks. Poke her with a taser. She won't hold back her cries.

Then of course fear of letting people down, losing people, and even more so the fear of being the one responsible for it - Riina is the leader of her team and thinks everything bad that happens to anyone under her care is 100% her fault. Tell her she's right. Hurt her loved ones and blame her for it. She'll do stupid things to save them to save her own sanity.