whump + sick

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEEEEEEEIVE here’s the horrible bastard getting dommed in his office by his permanently salty (ex-)husband. formidable cold+allergy combo because we gotta go extra indulgent for an absolute motherfucker like elias. the allergy-inducing chair makes an appearance yet again!!!! so yes technically this checks both boxes: Buildups At Work!!!

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ROSIE: (Over intercom.) Mr. Bouchard? Mr. Bouchard, are you there?

(Sound of button being pressed.)

PETER: (Stern.) He’s out today.

(Pause.)

ROSIE: (Over intercom, wary.) Can I... ask who I’m speaking t--

(PETER grunts, and the clunking sound of something being unplugged from its socket can be heard.)

ELIAS: (Muffled, chiding, from behind a door.) Peter...

(Footsteps. The door is opened, presumably by PETER.)

PETER: (Playful.) I mean, you are. Out today. Out can mean plenty of things. Out of... energy, commission, patience...

ELIAS: (He sighs a bit breathlessly, almost a groan. He sniffles sharply.) Quite.

(Something creaks.)

PETER: (Slightly gleeful.) Oh. Don’t look so glum, Elias. Just take the sick day. Relax a bit.

ELIAS: (Sweet, yet scathing.) Ah. I was... not previously under the impression th-hh-that being tied to a known allergen in my closet was… particularly relaxing. Perhaps I should... adjust my perspective? (He sniffles softly, followed by an exhale that seems deeply miserable.)

the haughty, elegant, in-control villain character pacing about their lair, laying out their evil plan to their subordinates, when suddenly, mid-monologue, they pause, stutter, gasp - and pitch forward with a sneeze sharp enough to echo around the room

they straighten, blink, sniffle once, and carry on as though nothing’s happened

no-one dare comment

not even when it happens a second time

A whumper who figures out that their victim maybe enjoys whatever is being done to them a bit too much, but they don’t let that deter them, deciding to instead humiliate them by telling them how sick they are for it and how messed up they must be to like it.

tsk, tsk. Paulu you get into the strangest situations.

💢 PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG TO NON-KINK BLOGS 💢

commission for @leapyearkisses / sketchdump

The second part of my dragon god/human “virgin sacrifice” story.  It is now complete!  Whoooo.  This story is about a male human and his nonbinary dragon lover.  No shapeshifting because that’s quitter’s talk.  If that bothers you, don’t read this and don’t get in my face about it.

READ PART ONE

Warning:  This part is very WET and MESSY and NSFW

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The dragon did not immediately pay him any attention.  Lieven turned his head to watch as the god shook itself like a bothered dog, feathers and mane rippling.  It reared its head back gracefully, mouth open to pant lightly.  The dragon had scrunched its nose again, nostrils twitching. The afternoon light shone at such an angle to make those nostrils look damp and slightly red around the rims. Lieven wondered whether the dragon would sneeze again, and why he might be worthy of such a sight and gesture now that the ceremony was over.  But Kafele, after several long moments, dropped its head again with a sound akin to a frustrated sigh and stalked away from Lieven.  It circled the clearing, tail swishing back and forth almost weightlessly behind it.  Lieven found the will to sit up, just in time to see Kafele stop at the tree line, about 20 yards away.

world’s cutest and sneeziest sea dragon 

The cork thudded dully against Sky’s cheek. 

“Happy New Year, sweet horizon!” Mon shouted cheerfully.

Sky squinted up at the man, silent. 

“It’s our anniversary my wonderful world.” Mon poured the champagne into a glass, seemingly oblivious to Sky’s lack of reaction. Mon raised the glass to Sky, “Cheers.” 

Sky shivered as Mon tipped the glass back, the distinctive amber liquid sliding away. Madame had a new favorite pastime, withholding food and water from Sky. She gave him just enough to keep him alive but little enough to keep him sick, dehydrated, aching, and dizzy. Sky’s eyes slid closed, fighting to ignore the pounding in his head. 

Pow

Sky jerked in his chains at the pop now echoing around his head. Mon’s laughter grated against Sky’s already burning ears. 

“Happy New Year!” Mon cheered again, pulling away from Sky. The colorful streamers of a party popper dangled in his fingers. The psychopath had set off a party popper in Sky’s ear. Sky could feel the glossy strands peeling off his skin as Mon moved away. 

“You can’t fall asleep!” Mon laughed. “You’ll miss all the fun! The countdown, the ball drop, the New Years’ kiss! We can’t have that now, can we?”

Sky couldn’t find it in him to scowl. 

Mon poured another glass of champagne. This time, Sky couldn’t withhold a whimper at the sight of the liquid. Mon’s eyebrows rose. “What’s that? Are you thirsty my atmosphere?”

Sky grit his teeth

Mon came closer, surprisingly silent for a big man. “Would you like a drink, Skylar?”

The sound of his full name sent shivers racing across Sky’s skin. He was never Skylar anymore. He was Sky. Sky like his mother used to call him. Sky like his lovers whispered into his ears. Sky like Evan would say, laughing, eyes bright as snow. Sky like Penny would shout, knocking shoulders with him. Sky, Sky, Sky. Sky, the name he could never again hear without shaking. 

Skylar meant Mon and Madame were serious. Skylar meant they weren’t being cute anymore. Skylar was menacing. Skylar was mature. Skylar meant all pretenses of love or friendship or teasing had gone out the window. Skylar meant there was no more pretending that this was anything but torture. Pure and simple. 

Skylar. Sky. He hated his name now.

“Answer me, Skylar.”

Skylar tore his eyes away from the light liquid. “No.” He whispered, lips cracking. He found himself wishing for blood. Wishing for anything that would stop the burning in his throat and the paste in his mouth. But his lips wouldn’t bleed for him.

“No?” Mon repeated. “No? No champagne then, Skylar?”

Skylar bit his lip and shook his head.

“You won’t be bothered by my drinking then, will you?”

“Go ahead.” He hated his voice. Hated how weak it sounded.

Mon smiled. Without breaking eye contact, he threw the champagne glass against the wall behind Skylar. 

Skylar flinched as glass shattered behind him. Flinched as the first little bits of glass cut across his skin. Skylar shook as glass shards sunk into his bare shoulders. Shook as glass fell to the floor, breaking into pieces over and over again. The sound of breaking glass echoed and crescendoed in his head. 

Champagne dribbled down the stone walls

Skylar shivered as the cold liquid pressed against his back. His mouth was too dry to even water at the sensation. God, he wanted it. What he wouldn’t do for just a little more liquid. 

He wouldn’t beg. That’s what he wouldn't do.

“Oh dear.” Mon clucked. “Oh dear, dear, dear. My apologies, dear boy. I’ll have to pour another one.” Mon turned to the little cart beside him. He pulled it closer to Sky, crouching down beside him. Mon plucked a new glass from the cart, resting the cold glass on Sky’s shoulder. 

Sky closed his eyes

Ice clinked 

Sky shuddered

Champagne poured

Sky bit his tongue

Champagne dribbled, a constant stream

Sky grit his teeth

Champagne hissed over the ice

Sky’s head pounded in time with the glugging of the liquid. 

It had to end soon. The glass was only so big. It could only hold so much. 

Sky gasped as cold champagne trailed down his skin. He kept his eyes firmly closed, praying it would help not to see the drink. 

“Mm.” Mon grunted. His nose bopped against Sky’s shoulder. 

Sky bit back a scream as Mon’s tongue flicked over his skin. 

“So good.” Mon whispered, his lips against Sky’s shoulder. “Skylar, it’s truly a shame you’re not thirsty. This champagne is so good.” His tongue trailed up and over Sky’s shoulder, sucking away the champagne. 

Sky could do this. He could handle this. Licking and pouring and watching Mon drink. Sky could win this one. 

And then it began again

The champagne was closer this time, rushing in his ears

Sky’s throat burned

“Please.” His lips cracked.

“What was that Skylar?”

“P-please.” he could do no more than whisper

“I couldn’t quite catch that.”

“Please. P-please. Please.” 

“Please what?”

“Please…I just…I need…”

“I don’t understand.”

“I need a drink. Please just let me drink. Please…I need….please give me something to drink.”

Sky’s eyes were still closed but he could feel Mon smile.