#derogatory language
For@whumpawoman Angstpril! Day 26 - Left Behind
Sunny and Star Crew: @ashintheairlikesnow@whumpinggrounds@whumptakesthecake@justplainwhump@whumpfessional@winedark-whump@painful-pooch - let me know if you want to be added/removed!
CW: pet whump, BBU, derogatory language, threat of noncon, sad Star hours
***
“Get in there,” Mr. Bianchi growls, pushing Star into the small closet.
She turns around before she makes it in, growling at him. “No. I don’t want to.”
“Get the fuck in the closet, puppy.”
Star looks out across the hotel room, at Comet and Sunny, who are standing behind Mr. Bianchi. “I thought I was supposed to come with you, Sir,” she whispers, trying to make her voice as sweet as possible, trying to appease him. Anything so she won’t be left alone in the closet.
Mr. Bianchi sighs. “Do you understand where I’m going today? Why we’re here, not at home?”
Star shakes her head. Of course she doesn’t, he doesn’t tell them anything, and if he does, she can never remember it. Too many hits to the head, or something like that.
“Dumb slut.” Mr. Bianchi stares at her, smirking condescendingly. “I have a very important business meeting. One where I’m not renting you and Sunny out, so I want my good pets. The ones who make me proud.”
Both Comet and Sunny look uncomfortable, but they don’t say anything.
Star clenches her hands into fists, setting her jaw and jutting her chin out. “I can be good.”
“Please. You look pathetic like that.” Mr. Bianchi steps forward. “You always say that and you never follow through.”
“Don’t fucking leave me!” Star’s eyes are wild with anger, with fear. Not the closet. Please. She doesn’t want to be alone again. “I’m useful. You like bringing me to these things, I can help you!”
“Only when they want something to use,” Mr. Bianchi hisses. “Like you did for Mr. McIntyre.”
Star’s face flushes, remembering the Irishman and what he did to her…
“Whatever.” Mr. Bianchi takes another carefully measured step forward. “Get in the fucking closet. Don’t make me ask again, or I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” Star snaps, internally cursing herself. If she wants to avoid the closet, to stay with her bonded, she has to be good. She falls to her knees, batting her eyelashes. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me, Sir.”
“You’d be more convincing if you weren’t swearing at me a few minutes ago. If you really want to be sorry, then get in the closet.”
“Please.”
“Would it make you feel better if I let Comet beat you first?”
For the briefest of moments, Star swears she sees revulsion flash in Comet’s eyes, but he schools his face back into neutrality.
Star is well and truly alone, and she focuses back on Mr. Bianchi. There’s no getting out of this, she can tell that much. “What if I run?” she asks, fire in her eyes.
“You’ll run where, puppy?” Mr. Bianchi lets out an amused, barking laugh. “You’ll leave the hotel room and everyone will see what a little slut you are and send you to the pound. If you even get that far. I know you won’t leave Sunny.”
He’s right. She can’t leave her bonded behind and that’s the only thing stopping her from leaving.
“Stop dragging this out and get in the goddamn closet.” He takes another step forward and grabs her collar. Her heartbeat stutters, she can feel his breath on her neck. “Come on, puppy slut. You’re either going to feel so fucking good when I get back—“ His hand dips down, brushing across her ass. “—or I’m going to make your life a living hell and add another scar to that gorgeous, fucked up face of yours.” He grabs her roughly, drawing a yelp from her. “What’s so bad about the closet, hmm? I want the truth.”
Humiliation washes over her, cheeks turning red. “I don’t want to be alone,” she growls. She hates him and she loves him and she can’t lie to him.
“Aw. Poor puppy,” Mr. Bianchi mockingly coos at her. “Get in the closet.”
Star looks at him with bitter fear and anger, her heart dropping as she backs into the closet.
Mr. Bianchi grabs black rope and winds it around her wrists, leaving them bound in front of her. “Get comfortable while I go get the gag,” he says, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “I need to store my puppy right.”
Star settles, sitting with her back to the side wall and her legs curled into her chest. Deep sorrow is already pooling in her lungs and the door hasn’t even been closed yet.
Comet and Sunny look down at her, not saying anything. She wants them to, wants them to scream and fight back and do *something,* anything to get her out of this.
They don’t move.
Mr. Bianchi comes back with a red ball gag and grips Star’s jaw, forcing her lips to part so he can shove it in her mouth and buckle it behind her head. “Pretty,” he says, brushing back her hair.
The gag is already hurting her jaw, drool dripping down her chin.
Mr. Bianchi backs away, giving Star a smile. “See you in a few hours, puppy.”
There’s no ceremony as he closes the door, just darkness falling over the shaking, scarred body of the pet. Some light peeks through the slats in the wood, but not enough to bring Star any sense of comfort. She doesn’t mind the dark. It’s the loneliness that gets to her in the end.
She hears the door to the hotel room slam shut and knows that she’s well and truly alone. WRU made her need to be touched, made her crave something against her skin, a caress or a fist or a whip. She wasn’t meant for loneliness.
Star tips her head back and starts tapping out a rhythm on the wall. All of her first memories are songs, she doesn’t know why.
A single tear slips down her face, she tongues at the gag. This isn’t her purpose but it has to be now. She was bad and this is what bad pets get.
They have to be alone.
She has to lean how to be alone, so she keeps tapping out the rhythm of the song like she’s drumming with her bound hands.
For@whumpawoman Angstpril! Day 22 - Threats
Sunny and Star Crew: @ashintheairlikesnow@whumpinggrounds@whumptakesthecake@justplainwhump@whumpfessional@winedark-whump@painful-pooch - let me know if you want to be added/removed!
CW: pet whump, BBU, EXPLICIT NONCON, MINORS DNI, NSFWHUMP, derogatory language, dehumanisation, guns, Rhys is his own content warning, lady whump
***
Rhys is on her in a second, slamming her head against the headboard and wrapping his strong hands around her throat. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses. “You stupid fucking animal.”
A bruise is forming on his cheek, sharp and angry and swollen.
Star laughs. “That hurt, bitch?”
She hates his fucking accent, hates how rough it is in her ear as he growls, “Not as bad as you’re going to be hurting.”
“Isn’t the punishment supposed to fit the crime?”
He slams her into the headboard again. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that.”
“Didn’t…fucking…do anything, you Irish bastard.”
Rhys starts putting pressure, cutting off her air. “Bitches don’t talk. Bitches get fucked, you cunt.”
Star has given up on surviving this, her bonded is safe and she wants this bastard far, far away from her. “Gonna kill you,” she chokes out.
“No. You’re going to take my cock like the fucked up Romantic you are. Understand?” His grip tightens.
She smirks up at him, her face turning red. “The fuck are you going to do if I don’t listen? Fuck me? Hurt me? You’re going to do that anyways.”
“I’ll take your bonded,” he hisses into her ear. “I’ll take him and I’ll ruin him and I’ll give him back once he’s a fucking shell of who he used to be. I’ll make sure when you look into his pretty eyes, there’s nothing there. He’ll just be a walking corpse.”
Star’s mouth goes dry. “Sir wouldn’t…”
“I wouldn’t test that theory. He gave me you for the night, didn’t he?” Rhys lets go of her throat, roughly grabbing her breast. “I think there’s a lot your Sir is willing to do to have my protection.”
“Your protection doesn’t mean shit, seeing how you got punched by a pet.” She makes a pouty face. “Can’t even protect yourself from a whore like me?”
“That’s right. You are a whore. At least you know that much, you stupid bitch.” Rhys takes his hands off her throat to tie her hands to the headboard and pull out a knife. “I’ll take your bonded. I’ll make him mine. Wipe any thought of you out of his head. Because you’re not actually in love. You’ve just got all those stupid programmed thoughts in your head. I’ll wipe them out. I’ll make him love me.”
“You can’t,” she hisses, fear overtaking her senses.
Rhys begins slicing apart her shirt, baring her skin to him. “Pretty tits.”
“Fuck off.”
“Watch your mouth or I’ll give you something good to do with it.” He pulls the shredded pieces of her shirt away and starts teasing her waistband with the knife. “Let’s see if you’re worth all the stress you cause Hunter, hmmm? If you’re a good Romantic slut. Because you’re sure not a worthy one.”
She spits in his face. “Your definition of worthy is fucked.”
Pure rage shoots through his eyes, and he reaches up to wipe the spit off his cheek. “Stick your fucking tongue out, cunt,” he growls. “Or I’ll fuck you with my knife and make your bonded watch.”
Star can barely comprehend the terror rushing through her, but shakily, she sticks her tongue out.
Rhys sets the knife down, pulling out a gun and turning the safety off. “Go ahead. Lick the gun.” He puts it out, rubbing it against Star’s tongue.
The bitter taste of the metal makes her gag, but she gives the gun kitten licks. Her gaze is angry and defiant, and she looks at Rhys, trying to let him see that she won’t break.
Rhys laughs. “Good cunt.” With no warning, he shoves the gun into her mouth. “Hold it. If you drop, your bonded is mine.”
Star gags at the intrusion, but closes her lips around the metal obediently. She doesn’t want to die, and even more, she doesn’t want Sunny to break.
Rhys roughly yanks her panties down, picking his knife back up to trace the crease of her thigh. “Now I see why you’re a Romantic.”
She glares at him. She can take this, it’s what she’s meant for.
Rhys undoes his pants, lining himself up with her entrance. “Don’t drop the gun. Or…”
He doesn’t need to finish his sentence.
Rhys thrusts in and Star bites down on the gun, metal scraping her teeth. Fulfilling her purpose for Sir. Like she’s meant for.
***
“Was she good?” Mr. Bianchi asks Rhys.
Rhys shrugs. “Tight. Defiant, but I fixed that.”
“What’d you do?”
“Put a gun in her mouth.”
“That’ll shut the whore up.” Mr. Bianchi finally looks over at the corner of the living room, where Rhys had discarded Star after using her. “Time to go home, puppy. Your bonded is in the car.”
Sunny. Star perks up at that, dragging herself to her feet, her inner thighs still sticky with Rhys’s spend.
Mr. Bianchi clips a leash to her collar. “Call me about our business deal tomorrow morning.”
“Sure. Thank you.”
Mr. Bianchi nods and pulls Star out the door. “Finally, you didn’t get a bad report.”
“Because he’s fucking terrifying,” she whispers, voice hoarse from the gun.
He slaps her across the face. “Dumb bitch.”
Star is tossed backwards by the hit, and he takes the chance to throw her into the car and climb in after her. He taps on the slide to let the driver to start going.
Star grabs onto Sunny, holding him tightly. “Don’t ever leave me,” she whispers. He’s here. He’s okay. She was good enough to save him this time.
“I, I won’t,” he responds, gently rubbing her back.
She did it. She kept him safe, no matter how ruined it made her. Star tightens her grip, trying to ignore the watchful, lustful gaze of Mr. Bianchi.
They all know what’s going to happen when they get home.
For@whumpawoman Angstpril! Day 12 - Forced to Watch
Cassiel Belanger belongs to @painful-pooch and is used with permission
Continued HERE (coming soon)
Across the Stars and Through the Meadow Masterlist (Cas and Star AU)
Tagging the Star crew: @ashintheairlikesnow@whumpinggrounds@whumptakesthecake@justplainwhump@whumpfessional@winedark-whump
CW: EXPLICIT NONCON, NSFWHUMP, MINORS DNI, lady whump, BBU, former pet whumpees, dehumanization, derogatory language, degradation, self-hatred, defiant whumpee, this is fairly intense so let me know if I missed anything!
***
“Excuse me.”
Star turns around, one hand on her hip, the other holding an empty glass. Tonight’s been slammed, she’s barely had a minute to breathe, let alone go pop an Advil for the pain creeping into her bones. “Give me one moment, I’m making a drink.”
The man across the bar, the one who interrupted her, sheepishly smiles. He’s not unattractive, in his late twenties. His friends have been by the pool tables for the last thirty minutes, all playing horribly. “I’m afraid it can’t exactly wait. Someone’s in the bathroom, he seems really sick and I don’t know what to do.”
“Fine.” She sets the glass down and wipes her hands off. She looks around for her knife, better safe than sorry, but swears internally when she remembers that Cas took it because he thought she was in a bad mood this morning.
Damn you, Cassiel. She glares over at the kitchen, but all he does is wave eagerly at her.
Star steps out from around the counter. “Alright. Let’s go. The sick dude, he one of your friends?”
There’s a slight pause before the man answers, something off about his voice. “No. I just went in to…you know.” His laughter sounds forced, and Star doesn’t like how close he’s standing. Her fingers twitch, wishing she had her knife.
“Actually, you know what?” She says, stopping in her tracks. “Let me go grab the bouncer, if this guy’s really that drunk, I could use the help.”
The man puts his hand on her upper back. “I’m sure he’s busy. I’ll help you out if he gets too rowdy.”
Star looks over her shoulder, but she can see Andy busy checking people in at the door and watching over the crowd. “Yeah. Okay.”
They make it to the bathroom, and the man opens the door. “After you.”
She nods at him and steps in. The lights are off, and she fumbles for the light switch, but not before she hears the door lock behind her.
Starr finds the light switch, and her heart sinks at what she sees. There’s no sick man in sight. Instead, there are three other men standing there, one holding a switchblade.
“What the fuck!” Star yells, turning around to escape, but the man from before blocks her.
“Not so fast.” He steps forward, crowding her into the center of the room. “Don’t make a sound, little boxie, or Owen will slit your throat.”
They want her to fight. They want to take her back to WRU and make her into a good Guard Dog. They want to get the pretty finder’s fee on runaway pets.
Star stares defiantly at the man, a growl escaping her throat. “Let me out and I won’t shatter your skull.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
Star whips around, seeing that each man has stepped even farther forward, boxing her in. Her heart pounds into her chest. Think. Be reasonable. If they want to take her to WRU, they probably have some drugs or something to knock her out. She just has to fight her way out of here.
She was always one hell of a fighting mutt.
Star shakes her head and takes up a defensive stance, slowly stepping around to make eye contact with each of the men. “I’ll kill you before I go back.”
“Go back where?” One of the men asks, a sadistic grin on his face.
Star stares at him. “You know where.” There’s a single beat, one half moment of silence before she lunges forward, aiming a kick at the man’s chest. It lands, and he goes stumbling backwards, but someone is grabbing Star from behind, pinning her arms behind her back.
She snarls, thrashing in the grip and shooting her leg out behind her.
Greco taught her well, she’s lucky for that, lucky she caught onto the training so quickly. She catches her attacker in the sensitive spot just above the knee and wrenches herself from his grasp. She doesn’t wait a moment before she attacks the next person, trying to land a flurry of punches and drive the man away so she can get to the door.
Get to the door. She knows this drill, she’s done it before. Get to the door and protect your owner. She always was such a good fighter, but these days, her body is breaking down.
Pain shoots through her back, and Star winces, her rhythm thrown off by the sudden flash of agony. She stumbles backwards, hitting the far wall, and one of the men takes the chance to jump on her and start punching.
Star’s vision blurs, her ears ring as the blows rain down on her face, blood dripping from her nose and mouth and cheek. She puts her hands up to protect her head, knowing her only option is to try to protect herself
The first man walks up to her, grabbing her by the hair and twisting her head back to look at him. “You fucking bitch.”
One of the other men slams his fist into her stomach, and Star doubles over, gasping for breath. “Who’s she going with first?”
So they’re going to take turns carting her back to WRU, back to the white walls. Star whimpers. She has to get out of here, she can’t go back but her body is being torn apart by pain.
“You take her first,” the man with the switchblade says, gesturing at the first man. “You were the one who got the dumb bitch in here.”
He smirks. “With pleasure.” He twists his hand further into Star’s hair and pushes her forwards.
She kicks and screams and scratches at his arms, but she knows no one can hear her. No one can save her. It’s just her with no chance to say goodbye.
The man bends her over the sink and lets go of her hair, only to grab her hands and roughly zip tie them behind her back. “You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he hisses into her ear.
What’s that supposed to mean? Star stares down at the sink, still trying to kick her legs to get the man off of her.
“Stop fucking moving,” the man with the switchblade says, grabbing a fistful of Star’s hair and yanking her head back, forcing her to look at herself in the mirror.
Star sees her long brown hair pulled into a ponytail, she sees her green eyes full of pain and fear, she sees her pale skin underneath the bathroom lighting with her hands tied behind her back and she sees her face bloody and bruised and broken. She sees the man behind her run his hands down her back because she doesn’t want to feelit.
Star goes still. “How are you going to take me back without people seeing?” she asks.
“Take you back?” The man with the switchblade laughs and presses the knife to her neck. “Oh, you dumb bitch. You’re not going anywhere.”
“What do you–”
Star is cut off when the first man hooks his fingers in the waistband of her jeans and slowly starts pulling them down.
Aren’t you lucky to be here, 501? Not down the hall with the Romantics?
The pieces click together as soon as the man has pulled Star’s jeans and underwear all the way down. “I’m not a–” She can’t think, she can’t process what’s happening. “I’m not trained for this, Sir.”
“You don’t need to be trained,” the man hisses. “You just need to stay right there and don’t fucking scream.”
Star’s eyes dart to the side, panic clouding her brain, her breath coming in quick pants. This can’t be real, this can’t be happening, she doesn’t know what to do, how to react.
The man with the switchblade digs the knife into her throat, drawing a bead of blood and sharp pain with it. “Look at yourself. Go on. Watch yourself.”
Star looks at the mirror, her heart shattering as she sees her eyes. No longer human and brave and defiant and everything she liked about herself, everything she had gotten back from WRU. Just afraid.
The man runs a finger across her slit, and Star whimpers, sick to her stomach and disgusted with herself. “I’ll go back,” she whispers. “I don’t want this.”
The man hushes her. “You don’t need to talk. Just take it, bitch.”
The other two men walk to stand by the door, both staring at Star, staring between her legs at what’s now bared to them.
Star can’t close her eyes, can’t look away. She can’t do this. Greco might have drugged her and beat her and broke her down but he never did this to her. She’s never had sex before, not even in her false memories. She doesn’t even want to have sex. “Please,” she whispers at her reflection.
Her reflection doesn’t answer.
“Going to prep her?” one of the men asks.
“Nope.”
Star feels something press against her entrance. She’s dry and scared and she doesn’t want this, please, she doesn’t want this. She twists around, trying to free herself.
The man with the switchblade tightens his grip on her hair and presses the knife further into Star’s throat. “Keep moving and you’ll bleed out.”
She doesn’t want to have sex with this man. She doesn’t want to die like this, she wants to die in the hospital like she’s supposed to in a few years.
She stays still and hates herself for it.
“She’s nervous,” the man with the switchblade says, smirking. “I don’t think she’s done this before.”
“Good. She’ll be tight.”
Tight? What does that mean…oh. Oh. No, absolutely not, she can’t, she doesn’t want this, she can’t even think about it.
There’s no fighting this, no way out.
So Star screams, hoping someone, anyone will hear her and come in and save her from this…this thing that Star can’t name, even if it’s just having sex.
Greco had protected her from this for so long.
Maybe it’s not a good thing that she left him, because now…this can happen. Without Greco, she has to have sex.
Her scream is short-lived by the man with the switchblade putting his hand over her mouth and snapping, “Hand me her panties.”
There’s a brief rustle of movement before she sees her gray underwear being passed to the man with the switchblade. He pries her mouth open and shoves the fabric in there. “Finally. Now you can fuck her.”
Star chokes on her underwear, her eyes filling with tears. No. She can’t cry, it has to be fine, it’s just sex, right?
“Hold her head up,” the man behind her says. “I want her to watch herself get used.”
Get used? Maybe that’s what this is. She’s getting used. There’s not a difference between that and sex.
The man with the switchblade yanks Star’s head back up, and she’s forced to confront her dead green eyes again, the underwear distorting her face and making her look disgusting. Worthless. Like a piece of shit, useless bitch who deserves to die.
Maybe it’s a good thing she’s gagged so Cas doesn’t have to see the worthless mutt he rescued being…used like this.
She holds her gaze at her reflection and her reflection stares back as she hears a bottle cap opening and a clumsy hand spreading something gelatinous and cold across her vagina. “Don’t want her to tear, knowing the three of you are going after me?”
There’s *more?*
The man with the switchblade grabs at Star’s thin black t-shirt, and with one strong pull, he rips it off of her and slices her bra off with his knife.
She’s naked and she hates this so much and Handler Greco was supposed to keep her safe from this.
It’s what she gets for leaving him behind.
“Perfect tits.” The man behind her runs the back of his hand down her back, stopping at her bound wrists. “Let me show you how a real man fucks a whore, gentlemen.”
A whore. That’s the word she was looking for, the word to describe what she really is. She’s a whore.
“Gonna fill this useless bitch up with my cock.” The man thrusts in.
More of Star’s hope vanishes.
He pulls out. Thrusts in again.
Any light left in Star’s eyes is gone.
He pulls out again. Thrusts in again.
Star, the whore mutt, doesn’t want to be here anymore.
Pulls out, thrusts in, over and over and over.
All Star can do is look at her bruised, bloody, pathetic face in the mirror and hold back her tears and watch herself shatter. She should have stayed with Handler Greco. She should have done something different.
But instead she takes a stranger’s cock like a good whore with her underwear in her mouth and she’s breaking. The reflection in the mirror moans around the gag. The reflection’s cheeks are streaked with tears, the reflection’s body rocks with each thrust. The reflection reacts, moves like a good pet.
But Star is so far gone.
Loyalty’s Price for a Saber’s Worth
For@amonthofwhump’s Mafia Madness!
Prompt: Snitches and Stitches
Tagging the crew: @ocean-blue-whump,@for-the-love-of-nsfwhump,@gottawhump,@ocean-blue-whump, and @winedark-whump
Referencing@ocean-blue-whump ’s Nessa because she and Farkas are a bad couple!
CW: Pet whump, BBU, lady whump, organized crime, conditioned whumpee, derogatory language, gun violence, knife violence, bondage, death threats, mentions of past abuse and torture, mentions of drugs, Faraday and Farkas deserve their own warning, and death (not a major character)
~~~
Saber stood to the side of the room, closest to the door, her eyes locked dead ahead while Faraday and Farkas, his nephew, both were roaring at a man that had gone to blab to the police about some shady shit happening at one of the warehouses by the pier. Their screaming always terrified her, but she couldn’t let that show.
She was built to handle it all and trained how to be a good Abernathy dog, worthy of a special collar that separated her from the domestics and romantics, but… not like it mattered when it came to Farkas. She was scared of him the most, especially if Nessa, his girlfriend, was around too. They both knew just how to make her miserable, and she knew that she couldn’t let the pain be shown unless they wanted it obvious. They’d make sure of that at least.
“Really?! You thought the cops were going to put you in some witness protection shit, Winston? Are you fucking stupid?!” Farkas asked, slapping the man who was tied up, his hands tied up above him with chains. Saber used her peripherals to see that the man was stripped down to his boxers, his torso covered in splotches of black and blue, red accented wherever it managed to find the canvas that was their unmarred skin.
A laugh came from Faraday and he held a knife under Winston’s chin. “I have half a mind to send your ass to WRU, have them wipe you, and give you to your wife, so she can see what a disgrace you became. At what cost, hmmm? You thought you were going to one up me or something? How about I just get rid of your entire bloodline and have you bury them?” He inquired, digging the tip of the blade in, the poor man sobbing and looking up at his torturer.
For@amonthofwhump Mafia Madness! Prompt: Family Business
Tagging a few people who might be interested: @painful-pooch@whumptakesthecake - let me know if you want to be added/removed!
CW: pet whump, BBU, lady whump, organized crime, heavily conditioned whumpee, derogatory language, mention of severed fingers, not super heavy on the whump but a look at the McIntyre family, consensual sex mention
***
“Does the pet really have to be here for this?” Siobhan asks, crossing her arms across her chest from her seat at the head of the table, her pursed lips painted mulberry purple.
Rhys smirks. “Of course she has to be here. My toy can be good.” He sits down in his chair and pats his lap. “Up.”
Pumpkin gives Rhys a longing look, climbing up into her Master’s lap and burying her face against his chest. He grins, running his hand along her back. His gorgeous toy. So obedient. So perfect.
Siobhan rolls her eyes. “I still don’t understand why you bought a Romantic. My Guard Dogs are much more useful.”
Making the McIntyre Toy
For@amonthofwhump Mafia Madness! Prompt: Rite of Passage/Initiation
Introducing you to Irish mob boss Rhys McIntyre and his pet Pumpkin, and their very dysfunctional relationship. These characters were first created in RP with @whumptakesthecake, so thank you, Alex!
Tagging a few people who might be interested: @painful-pooch @whumptakesthecake - let me know if you want to be added/removed!
CW: pet whump, BBU, lady whump, organized crime, heavily conditioned whumpee, derogatory language, stripping (nonsexual), gun in mouth, tattooing
***
Rhys runs his hand over the pet’s lower back. “Take your shirt off, Pumpkin,” he says in a low, growly voice. “Just the shirt.”
Pumpkin trembles under his touch, but undoes the buttons on her white shirt and pulls it off, folding it neatly.
Rhys takes the shirt from her and throws it into the corner of the dimly lit room, leaving the pet in nothing but a bra and navy blue pants. “Tonight, my pet will officially be allowed to take her place under my control as a McIntyre toy. She’ll receive our family crest.” His sharp Irish accent echoes off the walls and bounces back to him and the pet.
Pumpkin keeps her back straight and her chin up. She’s earned this. She’s fought for this. Her place as a McIntyre toy wasn’t just given like all those other pets. She deserves this.
For@amonthofwhump Mafia Madness! Prompt: Kidnapping
Collab with @painful-pooch! Vasyklo is hers (so blame Izzy for all the mean stuff he does)
Takes place during Star’s “recovery” era
Continued from HERE
Sunny and Star Crew: @ashintheairlikesnow@whumpinggrounds@whumptakesthecake@justplainwhump@whumpfessional@winedark-whump@painful-pooch - let me know if you want to be added/removed!
CW: pet whump, BBU, lady whump, VERY EXPLICIT NSFWHUMP, NONCON, MINORS DNI, dehumanization, derogatory language, restraints, violence, aftermath of noncon, beating, Vasyklo is his own content warning, mentions of organized crime, VERY DEGRADING LANGUAGE, broken bones, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
***
For@amonthofwhump Mafia Madness! Prompt: Snitches and Stitches
Farkas Abernathy (mentioned) belongs to @painful-pooch and is used with permission.
Tagging:@painful-pooch@whumptakesthecake - let me know if you want to be added/removed!
CW: pet whump, interrogation-style whump, BBU, mouth whump, noncon kissing (nonsexual), very very vaguely implied noncon, derogatory language, organized crime
***
Nessa gives Rhys a long look, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Let me have my fun.”
He shakes his head. “No. Get off of him, Ness.”
She gives him the finger as she stands up off the lap of their captive. “You don’t let me enjoy myself ever. I try to have fun with your pet, I try to have fun with this asshole…”
The man tied to the chair, Rory Walsh, gives Nessa a filthy look. “I was having fun with ye.”
She slaps him in the face hard before gripping his jaw, her ruby red nails digging into his cheeks and drawing ruby red blood. “I’d think real careful about what comes out of your traitorous mouth next before my brother puts his gun somewhere you won’t like.”
For@whumpawoman Angstpril! Day 26 - Left Behind
Sunny and Star Crew: @ashintheairlikesnow@whumpinggrounds@whumptakesthecake@justplainwhump@whumpfessional@winedark-whump@painful-pooch - let me know if you want to be added/removed!
CW: pet whump, BBU, derogatory language, threat of noncon, sad Star hours
***
“Get in there,” Mr. Bianchi growls, pushing Star into the small closet.
She turns around before she makes it in, growling at him. “No. I don’t want to.”
“Get the fuck in the closet, puppy.”
Star looks out across the hotel room, at Comet and Sunny, who are standing behind Mr. Bianchi. “I thought I was supposed to come with you, Sir,” she whispers, trying to make her voice as sweet as possible, trying to appease him. Anything so she won’t be left alone in the closet.
For@whumpawoman Angstpril! Day 22 - Threats
Sunny and Star Crew: @ashintheairlikesnow@whumpinggrounds@whumptakesthecake@justplainwhump@whumpfessional@winedark-whump@painful-pooch - let me know if you want to be added/removed!
CW: pet whump, BBU, EXPLICIT NONCON, MINORS DNI, NSFWHUMP, derogatory language, dehumanisation, guns, Rhys is his own content warning, lady whump
***
