#beatings

deluxewhump:

Erik and Carlo AU snippet where they got in some trouble on one of Erik’s many trips abroad. Erik tries to comfort his pet.

Inspired by this promptby@whumpwillow!

CW: captivity, false imprisonment, pet whump, blood, bruising, abuse, beatings, guns, vaguely implied threat of noncon

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Carlo woke afraid, from dreams that seemed real and surroundings that seemed dreamlike.

The floor left him sore and cold. He shivered, tasting blood and noticing the cut on his lip had left a series of stains on the cement.

As he pushed himself gingerly to sitting, his Master’s heavy black coat slid down his shoulder. Holstrom had placed it over him open like a blanket, keeping him from the worst of the cold.

He sat against the wall and clung to it, wincing at a pain in his ribs.

“Look at me,” Erik said from beside him. Carlo turned his head.

A gentle finger brushed his bruised cheek, traced the unhurt part of his lip as of surveying the damage. “Laying hands on another man’s pet. They ought to be shot in their sleep.”

Carlo shivered. He closed his eyes and leaned into his Master’s touch. Far away a dog was barking. A metal door slammed down the hallway, the clanging wound reverberating through the door that kept them trapped.

“What else?”

Carlo opened his eyes. “Sir?” he whispered.

“What else did they do to you? Those men?”

Carlo swallowed the coppery taste in his mouth. “Nothing.”

The familiar, square fingertips slipped up by his ear and Erik’s palm cupped his hurt cheek, so tenderly it did not press on the bruising.

“Are you sure? I heard them talking.”

“One kicked me,” Carlo said. He didn’t want to seem like he was complaining. His Master had a cut on his eyebrow that had bled and bled, and was swollen now, making one eye appear half shut. But he did not want to lie.

Erik searched his eyes a moment longer. “It’s alright, love. You’re going to be alright. You know that, don’t you?”

Carlo swallowed harder, a painful lump rising in his throat. He had been scared before plenty, entire days in the warehouse he’d been afraid and alone, and he’d been scared when he’d first come to his new home and Erik had slapped him.

But he couldn’t think of a time when he had been this afraid. The men who took them from the back of the car had guns— not handguns like Keith carried at his hip but big guns like in movies, and thick green vests on their chests that made Carlo think they might be soldiers.

Erik sighed, and did something he never did— he took Carlo’s cold hands in his big warm ones and squeezed. “You’re with me, pet. I’m here. Remember that.”

Part 1

I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to post these next two parts, since there are feelings about things some of my friends did, and at least one of them read my tumblr. But I decided to share them anyway. Not to make anyone feel bad, especially since I’m not upset or mad or hurt or deeply wounded, but because I like how open I can be on here. No one did anything wrong. These were just my initial visceral reactions to things that happened.

A little while after I’d gotten those lovely compliments, I saw Anderson Cooper and Reaction Junkie standing with Radical Girl. I went over and Reaction Junkie was giving head scratches to Radical Girl. He told me he was petting the puppy and said, “Look at the puppy!” I had a negative reaction (a combination of jealousy, sadness, hurt, and envy) to that, and, honestly, picturing this part of the night still makes me feel kind of shitty. I think I had that response partially because hey, I’m his puppy, partially because I feel like I haven’t been getting to be in any sort of headspaces much lately, partially because I haven’t been playing with pretty much anyone besides Reaction Junkie recently, and partially because I wanted to be doing something like that with her.

Anderson Cooper asked if he could join Reaction Junkie in petting her, and I saw that, because of the way we were standing, if he did so, I would be literally out of the circle, with his arm in front of me, physically excluding me. She said he could. Reaction Junkie tried to pet me at the same time, and asked Radical Girl if she wanted triple scratches. I felt uncomfortable because of my reactions, and because I didn’t want to pet her as much as I wanted to want to (I think that was at least somewhat because I’d had that initial negative response, and was trying to deal with it), and because of the unintended physical exclusion.

I hesitated a moment, and if I’d had more mental energy, or if I hadn’t used up a lot of my “dealing with people” energy, I might have gone for it and had fun. I was right on the cusp of being able to do that, and I really wish I had been able to go for it. But my emotional and social reserves were depleted, so instead I smiled and bounced and said, “I’m gonna go check my phone!” I didn’t want my feelings to be noticed, since I could have just dealt with them on my own. I wasn’t sure if Anderson Cooper or Radical Girl had noticed (I found out later that she had been able to tell that something was up), but of course Reaction Junkie did.

He followed me to the couch where I was checking my phone. I was embarrassed and frustrated by the feelings I’d had and the actions I’d taken in reaction to the situation. I told Reaction Junkie I was tired, and he asked if I wanted to go. I said I did, but then changed my mind. We decided to go upstairs and have him beat me. He asked if we should invite Radical Girl to watch, and I happily said yes. We invited her and Anderson Cooper. Her eyes got big and she looked at me. I grinned and said she should come watch, so the four of us headed upstairs. At first, while Reaction Junkie was tying me, we all chatted. Then the beating began.

It began with me face up in Reaction Junkie’s lap. He started hitting the fronts and sides of my thighs, alternating between smacks and punches. Then he did a long set of slaps. It was very stingy, which I usually hate. This time, however, as the initial bite faded, the afterburn felt amazing. He continued hitting me with his hands for a while. I savored the thuddy and stingy pain for their different effects. I knew that Radical Girl was watching, and that knowledge encouraged me to take more. It changed the experience, making more fun and more intense, which resulted in me groaning and moaning even more than usual.

I felt Reaction Junkie reach for something, and I could tell he was going to switch from his hands to an impact tool. I threw myself under the bus and said that I had my mean paddle in my purse. We sent Anderson Cooper downstairs to grab my bag. While we were waiting, I looked over at Radical Girl and was delighted to see that she had that big-eyed kid in a candy store look again. Anderson Cooper returned, bag in hand, and gave it to Reaction Junkie. As he did, he said, “I’m helping,” with one of his evil little assistant sadist grins on his face.

Reaction Junkie started in on me again, this time using the paddle. He brought it down on the front and sides of my thighs, hitting me over and over. I was starting to get done with that part of my body, so I told him, “I have a whole other side.” Reaction Junkie smiled at me and flipped me over so I was face down over his lap. He started hitting me again with the paddle and with his fists. I moaned and savored the mix of pain and pleasure. I grabbed a piece of his shirt in my mouth and bit down on it as the blows kept coming. The feeling of the impacts on my sensitized skin made me gasp. Reaction Junkie noticed and asked me, “Have you had enough?” Of course I responded, “No.”

Reaction Junkie had me stand up and bend over the couch. He started kneeing me in the ass and backs of my thighs, then added in some punching and slapping. All of a sudden, I felt a really hard paddle strike on my left ass cheek. Through the pain-buzzed headspace I was in, I heard talking. There was another paddle hit, this time on the right. I made out Reaction Junkie saying, “You can hit her as hard as you can.” He was letting someone else hit me.

I asked who it was and Reaction Junkie teasingly replied, “Don’t worry about it.” I thought it might be Radical Girl, and I knew it wouldn’t be anyone I wasn’t comfortable with, but I wanted to know. I picked up my head and repeated my question. Reaction Junkie could tell that I actually wanted to know, so he told me it was Radical Girl. “That’s okay, then!” I said happily before putting my head back down.

Radical Girl seemed timid about going full force at first, so I turned my head and told her, “You can hit me as hard as you can!” And boy, did she. It hurt so good, the hot, stingy pain radiating from where she’d struck me. I took a breath and said, “Okay,” before leaning forward, grabbing the paddle. I thought I was done. Then Reaction Junkie stopped me and took the paddle from me. He wanted to hit me as hard as he could, to show it off. His first couple of blows glanced off, although they still hurt. Then he changed sides and angles and brought the paddle down on my ass with a loud and painful *SMACK*

He’s either hurting her enough or saying mean enough things to make her cry and I really wish I had that more regularly these days