#flogging | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

defire · 4 months ago

Text

Back to the Dregs Part 11

Part 1 Next

Notice the content warnings pls

Content: on-screen rape, whipping, forced to watch, multiple whumpers, noncon nudity

"Please--" Michael wriggled back as grips shifted and the gangsters struggled to roll him onto his chest.

As his chest smacked into the floor for like, the fourth time that week, he sobbed harder. His back was still bruised, too. This was going to be too much.

Jordie accepted the cord from Pete. Someone pulled Michael's shirt up all the way to his shoulders.

"I--I had no fucking choice!" Michael roared through his gritted teeth, keeping his head off the ground to watch Jordie's dreaded approach.

Jordie gave him an unassuming glance and twirled the cord, measuring his distance as the gangsters holding Michael down readjusted their grips to keep from accidentally getting hit.

Don't scream. Michael told himself. You're a grownup, you can't scream.

Then there was a woosh as Jordie brought the stiff cord down on Michael's back.

A grunt came through Michael's throat, despite him holding his breath, even as he felt one of the stripped wires prodruding from the end of the cord zip into his flesh, adding a cutting sting to the heavy impact.

He jerked involuntarily, choking himself off so he didn't scream.

Two hit across his hips, eliciting a choked gasp from his throat. The fourth burst the scream out of his chest. He could hardly take three of these, let alone twenty.

"Please, no, no, please!" He screamed as the cord struck again. And again.

His screams for mercy did nothing. They never did in the past either.

He'd lost count somewhere around nine, writhing and muddled and trying pointlessly to kick away the powerful hands holding him.

Woosh. Split. Blood trickled down his ribcage and thighs as he jerked, wailing after every lash. No more words ame to his mind. Just relentless agony over his entire body.

It felt like forever, like it was never done.

And then suddenly it stopped.

He glanced back at Jordie, then he felt a twisted relief as the man tossed the bloody cord over to Pete, who picked it up distastefully.

Michael rolled onto his side with another wail as the stinging, bruising bites all over his back and legs started to fully register. There was no energy to sob. Just the breathy whinies that didn't express even a tenth of the pain.

"Alright," Michael heard Pyscho walk closer. "Now strip him."

Michael tried to get up, cursed, and moaned as he barely moved an arm and leg. He wanted to at least crawl away, get his back to that wall of crates behind him.

They were already pulling off his shirt, despite his weak resistance and wordless cries. Someone's fingers hooked into his underwear, scraping down his butt as they pulled his pants don. The cloth had been stuck into the wounds on his legs, and it burned and stung even more as they ripped it off.

The pain didn't take away the humiliation and horror of being stripped naked in front of these monsters. And his scars down his arms burned so much they almost echoed hte bleeding rips down his back.

He could see drips of his red blood on the seasoned pine floor.

"Start the call," The boss said. "And who's up for this?" He gestured at Michael, still moaning on the ground. "Somebody oughta make use of him. It's our last chance to lure 'em out before the Huers are too strong."

Michael rolled onto his knees with a gasp of anguish, old tears dripping off his nose as he tried to crawl away from the man behind him.

A hand landed on his naked leg, slipping in blood as Michael jerked it away.

Then Jordie's boot came down on his back. He screamed as the wounds lit up again.

The other guy walked up behind him.

He heard him kneel, unzip his jeans, and touch his butt, running his fingers up form his balls to between his cheeks.

Chills ran up Michael's spine as he gulped back nausea and shame.

"You don't have to." He choked out. "I can sell it for you."

The guy behind him chuckled.

"I know," He said, "but I want to."

He felt it twitching between his cheeks and gritted his teeth as the man spread him, then pushed inside slowly. It ripped, and ripped, wider and wider, and Michael screamed and lurched, but the nails of the rapist dug under his hips and pinned him as he drove in.

"Hold still, or I won't be so gentle."

Michael cursed and cried, trying not to buck again as the man rhythmically ripped him apart inside.

"So what you're telling me is no one from Columbus answered." Morgan paced backand forth, intermittently raking his nails over his scalp until it burned.

"It's not like there's a time constraint, is there sir?" Al answered.

Morgan ground his teeth. Of course there wasn't. Acting like there was a time constraint would be walking straight into the Westsiders' trap.

"Alright, fine, then." Morgan said. "We're going in with who we have."

"Sir, uh..."

"Are you questioning me?"

"No sir, no." Al replied hastily. "But... if you could tell me why you're in such a hurry, we could put our heads together.."

Morgan moved over to his laptop.

"Yeah, you're right. See... They've got Huer property." He opened up the email, frowning at the icon of the video. "And they're rubbing it in my face." He clicked his tongue. "I'm sending this to you. I want you to show the others. I'll call a meeting in a couple days or so and see what friends we can rustle up."

"Days? That's not going to be--sir..."

"Did I stutter?"

Morgan's irritable orders were cut short by the sound of a Skype call notification.

Immediately he hung up. it was the 0605 number. He recognized it from last time.

He stared at the screen, then noticed the messages they'd been sending him.

"Come and get him if you still want him."

"He's really getting it."

"You might want to hurry."

Morgan rolled his eyes and growled a curse. Then he hit the green icon and put his thumb over his camera while he tried to figure out how to turn it off.

The screen lit up and Michael's weakened screams filled the room.

"N--no don't, please!" His trembling vioce pitched upward into a whine of agony. His grimacing face was barely visible in the corner of the screen, the rest being filled with a mass of red and orange blur. For a second Morgan couldn't process what he was looking at.

Then it registered.

Michael was naked. He aws crying. Actually crying. He was covered in bruises, dripping blood down the back and legs. Morgan had a sickened feeling as he recognized the effects of a flogging. Narrow fingers curled around his brother's bloody hips, starting to thrust in rhythm. Rape. They were raping him.

Morgan hissed and turned away, rage heating up his hands, balled up into fists.

He tried not to hear the pained grunts and whines coming from michael. He shouldn't be reacting like that. That wasn't how Michael was. If it wasn't enough to make him scream, Michael would be begging, reasoning... And with what was happening, screaming in pain for sure. The man was being cruelly rough. But even though Michael's mouth opened as if to yell, all that came out were unbelievably high-pitched sobs.

His hoarse voice sounded broken. And the tears and blood. Fuck.

"You want us to stop?"

Morgan recognized the voice as Psycho, the self-proclaimed leader of the Westsiders.

"You gonna let us keep raping the Huer property--"

"No!" Morgan's shout erupted from his chest without warning.

Then he shot a hand out and slammed the laptop shut.

Fuck it, they were going in now.

Taglist:

@fleur-a-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @whumped-by-glitter @whump-writings @mimostic @tildeathiwillwrite

Whumped-by-glitter thank you for the writing assistance for the first half of this chapter!

#original whump #whipping whump #tw rape #rape whump #noncon whump #forced to watch #multiple whumpers #flogging #noncon nudity #gang whump #whump writing #whumpblr #brothers

29 notes · View notes

fanfics4all · 1 month ago

Text

Flogging

Request: Yes / No Kinktober Day 8!

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Dom!Oliver Queen x Sub!Fem!Reader

Word count: 1534

Warnings: SMUT

Y/N: Your Name

Summary: You came without permission and now you have to deal with your punishment

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Masterlist

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee!

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

My eyes fluttered open as the fog of sleep slowly started leaving me. I could tell from the light streaming through the window that it was morning. I turned to roll over, but something prevented me from doing so. There were bounds on my wrists and ankles, holding me in a spread eagle position. I pulled against them, I could move a little bit, but just barely. Oliver was nowhere to be seen as I struggled. I wondered why I was tied to his bed, but then I remembered. I had been a very bad girl.

I waited for what felt like forever, the tension building. The ideas of what Oliver could do to me were racing through my mind. I wasn’t allowed to cum without Oliver’s permission and I blatantly disobeyed him. The door finally opened and he walked in, holding a black silk blindfold. He smirked and sat on the bed next to me. I gulped and looked up at him nervously.

“ I see you’re finally awake, pet. Do you know why you’re tied up?” He asked.

“I think so, Sir…” I answered and he raised a brow.

“You think? I’m pretty sure you know. Why don’t you tell me the reason you’re all tied up, pet?” He said.

“Because I disobeyed you, Sir.” I said.

“How did you disobey?” He asked.

“I came without permission, Sir.” I answered.

“You did, slut, and now you’re going to get what’s coming to you.” He said as he placed the blindfold over my eyes. My heart started to race and I strained against the bounds. I felt him get off the bed, but I couldn’t tell what he was doing.

Suddenly, I heard the whoosh and felt an impact on my breast. I tested and gasped in shock. A flogger. I felt him lightly drag the strings across my body. They danced across my face, down my neck, circling my tits, and finally down to my pussy. The strands slowly dragged down my pussy, causing me to shiver. Then I feel his fingers stroke my cunt.

“Wet already? You naughty girl, only dirty sluts get excited from punishments.” He said. His fingers slid inside my pussy and I moaned, trying to push against him to get more inside me. He took his fingers away and then crack! The flogger snapped against my pussy. I cried out, trying to move away, but I couldn’t. I felt his breath fan against my ear.

“Greedy little slut, trying to get fuck, hmm? Well, this isn’t for your pleasure, this is a punishment. This is what you deserve for disobeying.” He growled. I whimpered and gripped the bounds, desperate to cling to something.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Three quick swats snapped against my tits, stomach, and pussy. I moaned, feeling the pain and adrenalin course through my body. The blows kept coming and I cried out each time, especially when I felt the flog slap against my nipples. Even though it hurt, I felt so safe. I knew I was getting what I deserved and I loved it. My body felt like it was on fire. My breasts must be glowing red judging by how many times he’s struck them. My nipples are beyond sensitive from the abuse and I all but scream when it comes down on them once again.

I felt his hands rub my tits, rolling my nipples between his fingertips. I bucked my hips and cried out, the sensation was like a lightning bold driving down to my clit. I heard him chuckle.

“Sensitive, slut?” He asked.

“Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.” I answered.

“Then you’re gonna love this.” He said before I felt a familiar pressure on both sides of my nipples. The clamps. My nipples were already so sensitive, I don’t think I can handle the clamps.

“Sir, I can’t…” I whimpered.

“Can’t what, pet? Use your words.” He said.

“I can’t take the clamps, Sir, please no…” I begged. A sharp slap was felt against my tits, making me squeal.

“You can take them. Your body is mine to do with as I please, slut, don’t forget that.” He said. The clamp tightened on one of my nipples. I rolled my body to try and escape the next one, but that just earned me another slap on my breasts. The pain mixed with pleasure coursed through my body as the second clamp was tightened. He pulled the chain that connected the clamps, causing me to moan in protest.

“There. You look good enough to eat right now, pet. All hot and wet for me, and your skin is such a pretty shade of red.” He whispered in my ear. I smiled, comforted by his voice.

I heard the flick of a lighter and furrowed my brow. What was he using a lighter for? Then I felt it. A drop of something fell onto my stomach and the stinging heat radiates out from my already reddened skin. Hot wax. Before I could even process it, more drops of wax fell onto my skin. It’s nothing I can’t handle, but it still hurts. Some drop more than others. I can feel the heat of the flame at times, and that’s when the hottest drops fall. The pain makes me squirm. I tried to push into the bed, he just moved the flame closer. He tugged on the chain connecting the clamps and immediately after a heated drop of wax fell between my breasts. My body tenses.

“Oh god, please, Sir, not my tits! Please don’t, it hurts so much…” I begged.

“Not your tits, hmm?” He hummed.

“Yes, Sir, please…” I begged again. He jerked the chair again and even more drops of wax fell between my breasts. I cried out in both pain and shock.

“I don’t think you’re understanding what’s going on here. You don’t get to make requests.” He said as I felt the drops of wax spiral around one of my breasts, circling towards my nipple. A whine escaped my lips as my body twisted and turned in anticipation. I felt the head close to my nipple and cried out, tensing my body pre-emptively, but it moved away. I feel the same wax pattern drip onto my other breast and the head close to my nipple once again.

“Are you ready, little one?” He asked in my ear, his tone gentle. I knew he was checking in, making sure I didn’t want to safeword. As much as I didn’t want to feel what was coming I knew I deserved it for disobeying him. Slowly I nodded my head.

“Yes Sir…” I answered breathily. The words barely escaped my mouth before I felt the drop of heated wax fall onto one of my nipples. I screamed with pain. The combination of the clamps and heated wax was too much, but I wanted to be good for him. I had to take it. My body heaved with each breath and he stroked the side of my face, lovingly.

“One more.” He said. I tensed again, but he brushed his fingers through my hair until I relaxed a little. Then the drop fell onto my other nipple. I screamed out again, twisting my body in pain. I heard him blow out the candle and lie next to me. He gently kissed my lips.

“Good girl. That was a lot, wasn’t it?” He asked.

“Yes Sir, but I deserved it…” I answered.

“Yes, you did, pet. But there’s still one last thing.” He said. My eyes widened under the blindfold. His hand moved to the chain, making the clamps move slightly. I cried out again, my nipples were incredibly sensitive. The chain lifted and I felt a tug.

“Prepare yourself, pet.” He said.

“For wha- OH FUCK! SIRRR!” I screamed as he tugged on the chain so hard that the clamps were pulled away from my nipples. I felt all the blood rush back into them, creating a throbbing sensation. I let out a wail as I thrashed against the pain. My tears were wetting the silk, but eventually, the pain subsided to a gentle throb. A wet washcloth slid across my skin, rubbing away the hardened wax. He was extremely careful around my nipples, but the shock still coursed through my body when I felt the rough towel against them. The bounds were removed from the wrists and ankles and then the blindfold was lifted. The first thing I saw when my eyes adjusted were his gorgeous blue-green eyes.

“Hey there, pet.” He smiled and I smiled back.

“Hi, Sir.” I replied shyly. He pushed some hair from my face.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, caressing my cheek.

“Better Sir, thank you.” I answered.

“Are you sorry for disobeying me?” He asked.

“Yes Sir. I won’t do it again.” I answered with a small smirk and he chuckled.

“Oh, I think you’ll do it again. You are a very bad girl after all.” He said and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Maybe…” I said as he gathered me in his arms.

“I love you, Y/N.” He said.

“I love you too, Oliver.” I said, knowing our playtime was over for now.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @lovelywordsblog @slytherinlyn13 @liz-owl

21 notes · View notes

emmacarterhere · 4 months ago

Text

When I discovered you had dared to steal the key to your chastity cage, a wave of fury washed over me. Such a breach of trust and defiance demanded a punishment so severe that you would never contemplate such an act again.

🌼✨🌼✨🌼✨🌼✨🌼✨

You were immediately stripped and collared, your hands cuffed tightly behind your back. Dragging you to the punishment room, I secured you to a wooden beam suspended from the ceiling. Your body hung there, exposed and trembling, as you awaited your fate.

First, I retrieved a set of nipple clamps, attaching them with no mercy. Each clamp was tightened until you gasped in pain, the chain connecting them swaying as you writhed. Next, I inserted a large, cold butt plug, ensuring you felt every inch of its intrusion.

With you immobilized and fully exposed, I picked up a heavy leather flogger. Each strike was methodical, covering your back, buttocks, and thighs. The force of the blows increased steadily, your skin reddening and bruising under the relentless assault. Your cries and pleas for mercy only fueled my determination.

Satisfied with the flogger’s work, I moved on to a cane. The sharp, stinging strikes were precise, each one leaving a welt that would remind you of your transgression for days to come. I alternated between the cane and a whip, each instrument of torment bringing a different kind of agony.

Once your back was a canvas of pain, I forced you into a dog cage, its cramped quarters pressing against your freshly marked skin. I attached the leash to your collar and pulled you forward until your face was pressed against the cold metal bars. Leaving you there for hours, I ensured your discomfort was as mental as it was physical.

Finally, I retrieved the chastity cage. Unlocking it was only a brief moment of relief before I cruelly reattached it, ensuring it was tighter than before. The collar and leash remained, a constant reminder of your submission and my absolute control.

As you lay there, broken and humiliated, I leaned in and whispered, "Let this be a lesson. Any further disobedience will be met with even greater punishment." Your tear-streaked face told me you understood. This was just the beginning of your reeducation.

36 notes · View notes