if you have a very strong/powerful character and you DON'T muzzle and chain them and beat it into them that they're only good as a blunt instrument of violence and use their completely natural reactions to this mistreatment as 'proof' that they're innately dangerous and the mistreatment is necessary + justified then what's even the point tbh
Whumper keeps Whumpee in an excessive amount of restraints (can’t move an inch for chains, collared, muzzled) to ensure that they won’t break out - even if Whumpee is completely cooperative
Whumpee who does fight back, who bites, claws, scratches, does everything they can to cause as much damage to Whumper as possible
Whumper who “has to” keep Whumpee constantly sedated
Whumpee is a danger to themself, intentionally or not, so Whumper has to protect them before they fatally injure themselves
Nonhuman Whumpee is percieved as dangerous and muzzled/shock collared before they can plead their case, if they even can
Caretaker who is scared of Whumpee!
Stranger Caretaker arriving to rescue Whumpee after defeating Whumper but hesitating when they realise who or what Whumpee is
Whumpee’s hope turning to dread as they see this, and silently begging for mercy
Whumpee who lashes out at Caretaker, who hurts then one day, and guilt hits them at full force
Whumpee who believes they’re a danger to Caretaker and takes it upon themself to remove themself from the equation
Caretsker who flinches when Whumpee moves suddenly
Whumpee wakes up after being rescued, filled with relief - only when they try to move they notice the chains, and the muzzle
Or Whumpee wakes up in a hospital but is restrained to the bed “for their own safety”
Whumpee is a living weapon or villain and everyone is scared of them - except Caretaker’s child
Whumpee who tries to be gentle and unassuming to win the favour of those around them
This is what happens when I try to take notes in class….
SLH! Ragatha haunts me…(and I wouldn’t have any other way 🙂↕️) (I’m also very mean to her because she is my favorite. So that makes up for it and also tw for like. Being mean to Ragatha) (seriously tho tw restraints and implied sh)
Y’all get these to hold you over while I work on the Zooble-Caine comic 🙂↕️
+pomni trying to do jobs…she’s very bad at all of them
None of this is necessarily canon, they’re just exploring ideas I might incorporate:D
In these endings, it's more or less assumed Alastor has gotten out of his deal (if the route doesn't involve his owner)
TW: Captivity, Restraints, Dollification (sorta), Dubcon/Noncon, Stockholm Syndrome
No one knows where Alastor is. No one but Niffty. She has him all nice and safe, locked away where no one can find him. Alastor was always fond of Niffty and her antics and after growing tired of dealing with everyone else, sought to at least give Niffty happiness to some capacity.
Alastor is more or less living in a doll house entertaining Niffty with her delusions. Always shackled with no way of escape, Alastor has more or less accepted being an oversized doll for the woman. He's more aware of her fanfiction and plays along with his role of being a "perfect husband".
Alastor is treated more as a toy than an actual husband, however, getting dressed up and playing with like one. Though, he prefers just his dress shirt and nothing more to wear most of the time. Alastor's room is full of toys that can be sometimes mistaken that he was one.
While on the surface Alastor is simply playing house, he's also unfortunately victim to some of Niffty's more perverse ideas. Forced roleplays are not uncommon for Alastor to divulge Niffty with, even if those roleplays discomfort Alastor (with him in either position). It's also not uncommon for Niffty to leave him in more compromising positions and forget to clean up after herself to take care of her duties for the day.
But, it's all in the safety of the dollhouse, with Niffty happy enough for the both of them. So Alastor is at peace with all the misery that comes with it.
Yes. Alastor is practically living in the same room as Niffty's shrine to him, why do you ask?
As a little bonus to this one, this story is a good example of what a day could be like in the dollhouse! Of course, the original story has nothing to do with the official AU, but it was a good inspiration of how I wanted to approach Niffty's bad end!
[Content warning: defiant whumpee, medical whump, stress position, restraints, interrogation]
He wakes to pressure.
Not pain at first.
Just pressure—deep in his shoulders, across his chest, threaded down both arms in a way that feels wrong before he fully understands why.
Then sensation catches up.
His eyes open sharply.
The lights are dimmer.
Not dark. Never dark. But lower than before, the white glare softened into something colder, flatter. Enough to make the room feel unfamiliar for half a second.
Enough to disorient.
His breathing stutters once before he steadies it.
Okay.
Okay.
His wrists are still restrained, but higher now. Spread wider apart than before. Elevated just enough above the line of his shoulders that tension pulls continuously through the joints. Not unbearable.
Not yet.
That’s the problem.
The position has no relief in it. No way to settle. Every inch of him feels suspended in the anticipation of strain.
His ankles are secured separately now too, farther apart than before, keeping his spine locked flat against the table.
He tests one arm instinctively. The restraint answers with a sharp metallic pull.
And pain immediately flashes hot through his shoulder socket. Not from the restraint itself.
From the position.
His jaw clenches before he can stop it.
“…you redesigned the furniture,” he mutters hoarsely.
No response.
But there’s movement nearby. Not hidden this time.
A chair sits several feet from the table, angled toward him with deliberate neatness. Someone occupies it already. Watching.
“You know,” he says after a second, voice rough from disuse, “most people buy me dinner before the bondage setup.”
Nothing.
The figure studies him for another long moment before speaking.
“You slept intermittently for three hours.”
His throat feels dry enough to crack. “Congratulations to me?”
“No sedatives were required.”
That lands oddly.
Not praise.
Assessment.
He shifts again despite the warning already screaming through his shoulders. The movement drags another sharp line of pain through both arms, deeper this time, immediate and ugly enough to pull a harder breath from him.
The figure notices.
Everything here notices.
“Muscular fatigue beginning,” they say calmly.
“Yeah,” he says tightly. “That tends to happen when you hang people up like spare parts.”
No reaction.
The figure rises from the chair.
His body goes still automatically.
Not fear, he tells himself. Readiness.
The person approaches the table without hurry, carrying a slim tablet in one hand. No instruments. No tray.
That somehow feels worse.
They stop beside him. “Your cooperation will reduce duration.”
He laughs once under his breath. “Sure it will.”
The tablet activates with a soft tone. The figure glances at it briefly.
Then:
“State your name.”
He stares at the ceiling. “No.”
A pause. No immediate consequence.
His pulse doesn’t lower anyway.
The figure taps the screen once.
Something beneath the table shifts with a quiet mechanical sound.
Then—
His arms are pulled another inch upward.
The pain is instantaneous.
A violent stretch tears through both shoulders hard enough to wrench a sound out of him before he can stop it—a sharp, involuntary gasp as every muscle across his chest locks tight in reflex. His back arches automatically against the restraints.
The position holds. Doesn’t release.
Oh, fuck that—
He sucks air carefully through his nose, fighting to force his muscles to unclench, but there’s nowhere for the strain to go. It just sits there, digging deeper into the joints with every breath.
Not sharp anymore. Heavy. Grinding.
The interrogator watches him stabilize.
“State your name.”
He laughs again, but it shakes at the edges now.
“…creative,” he manages.
Another tap. The table shifts again.
Not upward this time.
Outward.
His arms spread wider.
A white-hot bolt tears through his left shoulder so suddenly his vision flashes. He chokes on the breath that tries to escape him, fingers convulsing hard against the restraints as pain radiates down both arms in brutal, pulsing waves.
The position stops there. Held precisely at the threshold before something tears.
Tears.
His breathing loses rhythm for a second. The interrogator waits through it patiently.
“State your name.”
He squeezes his eyes shut hard enough to see sparks.
Don’t react.
Too late for that now.
“…go to hell,” he bites out.
Silence.
Then:
“Deflection maintained.”
The tablet chimes softly. The table does not move again.
Instead, the restraints at his wrists tighten incrementally.
Small adjustment.
Tiny.
But in this position it changes everything.
Pressure bites hard across already strained joints, forcing his arms into stricter alignment. The pain deepens instantly—less explosive than before, more invasive. A relentless pull buried deep under muscle and tendon.
His shoulders tremble. He hates that they can see it.
The interrogator’s voice remains perfectly level. “You accessed Facility Archive Seven on the nineteenth.”
His eyes open slowly.
There it is. Real questions.
He swallows against the dryness in his throat. “Sounds fake.”
“Who authorized your entry?”
He says nothing.
The strain builds by degrees now—not mechanically, but biologically. Muscles tiring. Nerves inflaming. The slow dawning realization that his body cannot maintain this position indefinitely.
That’s intentional.
The interrogator watches the silence stretch. Then asks calmly: “What did you remove?”
Another adjustment. Not wider.
Higher.
The change is minimal. The effect isn’t.
Pain lances viciously through both shoulders, deep enough now to feel nauseating. His head jerks back against the table with a muffled sound as his entire upper body strains involuntarily against the restraints.
A broken breath escapes him. His hands are shaking openly now. He can’t stop it.
The interrogator waits until his breathing starts working again. “What did you remove?”
“Nothing,” he snaps immediately.
Too fast.
The interrogator’s eyes flick briefly to the tablet.
“Stress elevation inconsistent with response confidence.”
Shit.
He turns his head sharply toward them despite the position screaming in protest. “You measuring my heartbeat now?”
“Yes.”
That shouldn’t make his stomach drop the way it does.
The interrogator steps closer.
“Who else accessed the archive?”
“No one.”
A beat.
Then the interrogator says, almost conversationally:
“That answer was truthful.”
His chest tightens.
Why tell him that?
Before he can process it—
The restraints pull wider again.
This time he actually cries out. The sound tears free before he can contain it, rough and sharp as agony rips through his left shoulder hard enough to make his entire arm spasm violently against the restraint.
For one horrifying second he thinks something dislocated. The pain surges hot and unstable through the joint, radiating down into his elbow, his wrist, his hand—
Then settles just enough to remain survivable.
Barely.
He’s breathing too fast now. He knows it. Can’t stop it.
Sweat slicks cold along the back of his neck despite the freezing room.
The interrogator studies him with clinical focus. “Why did you enter the archive?”
He laughs once—breathless, wrecked around the edges.
“You really—” he sucks in air sharply as another pulse of pain cuts through the shoulder, “—really need better security.”
The interrogator regards him silently. Then reaches down.
Not to the tablet.
To his arm.
Gloved fingers press carefully against the damaged shoulder.
Not gentle.
Precise.
Testing.
The pressure hits something deep in the joint and pain detonates instantly through his arm. He jerks hard against the restraints with a strangled sound, muscles locking uselessly as panic flashes bright and animal through his chest.
“Easy,” the interrogator says calmly.
The word almost makes him hate them.
Their fingers press again. Slightly different angle.
His vision blurs.
“Answer the question.”
“Fuck—”
Pressure. White pain spears downward through his shoulder blade hard enough to make his whole body shake.
“Why did you enter the archive?”
“I didn’t take anything!” he snaps, voice cracking violently this time.
The room goes still. Too still.
The interrogator slowly removes their hand from his shoulder.
Looks at the tablet. Then back at him.
“You did not deny entry.”
The realization hits him like another blow.
No.
No, no—
His pulse spikes so hard he can hear it.
The interrogator watches the reaction with terrible attentiveness. “Interesting,” they murmur.
He clamps his mouth shut hard enough to hurt.
Idiot.
Pain throbs relentlessly through both shoulders now, each pulse of his heartbeat grinding deeper into exhausted muscle. His arms are trembling continuously.
The interrogator returns to the chair.
Sits. Composed. Unhurried.
Like they have all the time in the world.
“You will continue answering questions.”
His breathing still won’t steady completely. “And if I don’t?”
The interrogator folds their hands again.
“Your joints will fail before the restraints do.”
Silence.
Cold and absolute.
His stomach twists hard.
Because the worst part—
The worst part is that they say it like a measurement.
Not a threat.
The tablet gives another soft tone. The interrogator looks down at it briefly.
Cecil and Hugo with a little who is secretly a werewolf.
Cecil and Hugo would both be very fascinated, but I feel like Cecil would lean towards more adoration of your werewolf features, while Hugo would just be double the concern he normally feels for you
They would both think of you more as a puppy than an actual werewolf 😭 neither would feel intimidated, more just a sense of duty at taking precautions to make sure you don't hurt anyone, including yourself.
I feel like Cecil would be more optimistic about it if he needed to restrain you before you turn, just to make sure you don't wreak havoc. He'd stay with you the entire time and not dare go to sleep. He might make the mistake of thinking you're calm enough to cuddle eventually, and end up sporting a big scar </3
Hugo would be more heartbroken about it. He doesn't like the idea of having to restrain you, he'd be extra apologetic ("I'm so sorry, kiddo... we'll get ice cream after all this, okay? How does that sound?") He'd also give you something to help calm you during your transformation, so you're more just sleepy and grumpy.
They'd both make a room for when you turn, and make it as comfortable as possible for you.
Wally West/Reader/Dick Grayson, 4.8K Words
AN: Based on this request: [BirdFlash with reader being Dick's girl who Wally always dreamed of having a taste so on Wally's birthday best friend dick gives his girl with nothing but a gift wrapping ribbon on her breasts on Wally's bed all dolled up for him while Dick watches them while stroking his cock, pretty please]
But I switched it up to Christmas cause it took me this long to finish it. Happy Holidays All!
Warnings: Objectification | cuckolding | restraints | spit-roasting | minor-name calling | Dick being an implied/moderately mean dom.
Wally wouldn't call it begging. More like a series of persistent and not-so-subtle hints. Whatever it was, and no matter how much he asked for it, he earnestly was not expecting to find you, looking all pretty and perfect, strapped to his bed, and all wrapped up in shiny red ribbons when Dick had insisted on giving him his Christmas present early. Wally had no clue how Dick had managed to sneak you in here without him noticing, and honestly, he didn't really care.
“Really, dude?” Wally grabs Dick's upper arm, turning his best friend so that they're eye to eye. Mostly he just needs to hold onto something, to ground himself, to prove he's not dreaming.
“Yeah, man,” Dick confirms, stretching out the arm in question to pat Wally's shoulder. “Ground rules though. You get one; you nut, you're done. You wear a rubber, and I’ll be watching the whole time.”
Wally nods excitedly all the way through. Those are all reasonable requests,but he can't help teasing a little. “What’s that matter? Don't you trust me with your girl?”
“No.” Dick answers decisively but with the hint of a laugh, as he lets go of his best friend, settling into the desk chair he'd already repositioned for optimal viewing. Dick has never been the possessive or insecure type, in fact, seeing how excited the premise of sleeping with his girl makes Wally is a bolster to his already teeteringly large ego.
Wally, totally buzz, could practically phase through the floor at any moment.
“Thanks, man!! This might just be the best gift ever!” He drums his fists against Dick’s chest, letting out some pent-up energy and then, in the blink of an eye, he’s on you.
It feels like a cool breeze is rolling over you as he examines you. Fingers tweaking your ribbons and brushing over your exposed skin so fast you barely know where he is at any given time. The only thing you're certain of is the hardness of his clothed cock pushing against you're pussy.
“You're the best present I ever got.” He repeats, this time to you, once he pulls away the soft binding that had been dressed across your mouth.
Before you can answer, Dick chimes in, endlessly amused by Wally’s enthusiasm. “You haven't even fucked her yet.”
When Wally replies, he’s still looking at you. Consuming you with those inviting eyes. “No, but I’ve been dreaming about all the things I want to do to you since the day we met.”
Those same green eyes travel along your face, appraising every inch of your skin with pure wonderment, and making you feel far more flustered than the reality of the situation ever did. Eventually, his gaze settles on your lips, all read and glossy, just for him and he whispers yearningly; “Can I kiss you?”
You want to make a joke about whether he planned on pumping and dumping you, but he asks so sweetly, that all you do is smile and nod, tilting your head up until you feel the callouses of his thumb on your cheeks and his lips grazing your own. He starts out so tenderly, savouring every second, committing every taste, every move, every look to memory. Uncaring of how your lipstick stains his face.
But he only has so much patience, can only hold back his precipitous nature for so long. Soon enough he’s holding your face steady as he hungrily soaks up your kisses, panting into your mouth, clinging to you like he’ll never get enough. Simultaneously, his hips have upped their tempo too. Increasing from a steady rut that had your already wound-up heat throbbing for more, to a constant, deep and mind-numbing grind that had you leaking through the satiny fabric your boyfriend had so lovingly bound you up in. You’d be pushing back against him, if Dick hadn’t done so good a job at ensuring you’re properly spread and displayed for his best friend.
“Wally?” You purr into his mouth, and you would swear his cock twitched before he snapped his head back to take you in. His face a wicked collection of freckles, spit, and lipstick.
“Yeah, baby?” He grins down at you, all doe-eyed and boyish. ‘He really is just happy to be here’ you think, watching as his gaze travels further down your body, following his own fingers as they graze your neck, then your makeshift collar, running over the curve of your breast before settling to fiddle with the tail of the ribbon that’s currently keeping them contained.
Needily, you buck your hips as best you can and let out yet another gratuitous whimper. “Need you. Want you to fuck me so bad.”
“Yeah?” His hand falters, dipping lower, tracing the bows that cover your core, his eyes and smile concurrently growing wider until Dick butts in.
“Don’t let her take over, Bud.” He warns, and instantly you narrow your eyes at him. He looks so calm and composed, leaning back and spreading his legs, but already his cheeks are tinted pink, and his hand is buried in his jeans. “Give her an inch, and she’ll take a mile.”
“She can have it all.” Wally muses, never taking his eyes from your form as he trails his hand upwards once more, having made his decision, he tugs at the smooth fabric until it gives, unveiling your breasts and making him suck in a breath as he takes them in. “Just let me have some fun first, yeah? You’re my present, after all, so it’s only fair, right?”
Please with Wally’s response, Dick shoots you a self-satisfied look, one that has you glaring daggers back at him until he just has to say something.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He scolds playfully. “I’ll end this thing, and Wally will have to go without. Is that what you want?”
Briefly taken aback, Wally finally takes his eyes off you, his head darting back and forth between the two of you before he catches on to your game.
“Is he always this mean to you?” Wally asks with mocking sympathy, his speech marred by the way he drags his lips along the curve of your breasts.
“Yes!” You return, amping up the dramatization. “He’s so cruel.”
“I knew it!” Despite the bit, Wally doesn’t keep his mouth from kissing and sucking the tender skin of your nipples. Nor does he keep his hands from wandering your body still, weaving his fingers under your remaining trimmings. It’s like you’re a plethora of gifts, and he doesn’t know which to open next. “Don’t worry, you’re in safe hands now.”
“Good grief. The two of you deserve each other.” Dick scoffs, despite his warning, he does nothing but lean back further and bunch up the hem of his t-shirt to keep it from getting in his way.
“You ever been with a speedster before?” Wally asks keenly, leaning in to kiss you once more.
“No.” You answer, shaking your head when he pulls back. Wally’s delight is evident immediately.
“Oh, baby. You don’t know what you’ve been missing.” In the blink of any, all the ribbons and bows are gone, strewn across the room, one suspiciously sitting haphazardly on Dick’s head. All but for the bindings that keeps you secured to Wally’s mattress. Exposing you completely, but offering you no give to shy away from the hot breath warming your inner thighs. “I am gonna rock your world.”
It’s sinfully thrilling, laying bare and vulnerable under two pairs of intensely watchful eyes. It’s enough to make you shiver in anticipation, but the real shockwaves come the moment Wally rolls his tongue between your slit, once, twice, three times, thoroughly and loudly enjoying the taste of you, and the way your hips tremble under his grip.
“Shhhhhhit.” With eyes closed, he groans into your slick folds. “You taste better than any Christmas cookie I ever tried.”
Dick laughs, you don’t have the capacity. As soon as the words are out of his mouth Wally glides two fingers into your dripping entrance. It’s not the way they stretch your walls that has you writhing, it’s the fact that they’re fucking vibrating.
“Oh-oh my god, Wally!” You whine, unconsciously pulling at your ties, desperate to grip onto something, to alleviate some of the tension he’s already building.
“You like that, sweet thang?” Wally hums, opening his eyes purely to soak in the way you’re already coming undone for him already. “You’re gonna love this.”
When he ambles his tongue against your clit again, it too is pulsing, tingly and intense. You crumble and twitch under his touch in seconds. “Fuck! Wally, Wally, oh my god, Wally!” You want to praise him, to tell him how good he’s making you feel but all that spills from your lips is a series of swears and prayer-like calls of his name. You’re so caught up in the moment, that you don’t notice Dick approaching, not until his weight dips the mattress beside your head and his fingers threat into your hair, brushing it from your flustered face in gentle little sweeps.
“Does that feel good?” He asks coolly, the stormy blue of his eyes overtaken by the expansiveness of his pupils. “You gonna cum all over another man’s face?”
“Yes. Yes, Dick. Yes!” Your eyes flicker between the two men. They couldn’t be more different. Wally, bright and sunny, face full of warmth and contentment, virtually melting as he all but devours you. Dick, dark and seductive, enjoying the power he has over you even when you’re restlessly squirming on his best friends’ tongue.
“Don’t tell me.” He instructs, gently guiding you to face, focusing your attention back on Wally. “Tell him.”
“Wally, so, so good.” You whisper. “N-never felt like this before.”
You may be at your wit's end, but you still notice the way his eyes dart to Dick with a cocky quirk of his brow.
“She’s gonna cum for you, in 10.” Dick announces, and you’re not sure whether he just knows the signs better than you do, or if you’re so accustomed to cumming on command for him, but your body immediately grows taut, holding back ripples of pleasure, all stemming from the ceaseless throb of Wally’s probing fingers and flattened tongue.
“9, 8, 7…” Dick continues to count down, slow and steady, still playing with the stray tresses of your hair, wiping up any stray tears of frustration that leak from your wide eyes.
“6, 5, 4…” Between Wally’s tightening grip, and the satin that holds your limbs down, you’ve no way to buck or roll, all you can do is tighten your fists and curl your toes, biting your lip as you silently beg your boyfriend to count faster.
“3, 2, 1.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Perfectly on queue, your orgasm wracks through you. Unrestrained moans escaping not just your own lips, but Wally’s too. His mouth never leaving the lip of your pussy, his fingers continuously buzzing between your sensitive folds as you whimper and groan, drowning in ecstasy. “Wally! Yes, yes, yes!”
“I could get used to this.” Wally praises, kissing his way along your stomach once you have nothing left to give him. His hot breath grazing your skin as he works his way up, mouthing your sensitive nipples once he’s in range until a set of strong, familiar fingers abandon you to wrap into the speedster’s rust-red locks. His jaw hangs open in shock and awe as Dick stands.
“Don’t.” Dick voices firmly, holding Wally in place until the former weakly nods his head. Despite his promise, the moment Dick relaxes his grip, Wally descends onto your chest. Planting, heated, open-mouthed kisses across your chest, smearing the wetness of your orgasm across your skin.
“Or I guess I’ll just have to make the most of you now.” He quips when you lock eyes.
“Untie me.” You surprise him and yourself with your reply, but you so badly want the freedom to run your fingers through his hair, to strip him of his clothes and kiss every one of his freckles without restraint, to pin him under your thighs and bounce on his cock until he’s as much a mess as he’d made of you. “C’mon Walls, I wanna touch you and kiss you and ride your cock ‘til I can’t walk straight.”
Any doubt that might have clouded his mind is quickly washed away as he envisions the reality of your promises. “Oh baby, how could I never say no to that.” He ponders aloud. A second later your limbs are freed.
He watches you intently as you stretch and flex your stiff muscles, both of you ignoring Dick who has retreated to his chair once more and is shaking his head. The first thing you reach for is the hem of his t-shirt. Frantically, you pull it over his head, excitedly trailing your hands over the lean muscle uncovered in its wake.
“You’re so hot.” You coo, sitting upright and stretching your legs over his, his hands clutching your thighs to help you mount him. His rosy skin is hot under your lips, his nails digging in as you smother any inch of skin you can reach with messy kisses. His hips jerk when your finger dips down once more, hooking into the waist of his pants. Impatient, he doesn’t allow you a chance to fumble with them, one moment you’re teasing him through the fabric, the next they’re gone.
He lets out an unintentionally high-pitched whine that puts your hairs on edge the moment you grace his cock with your fingers. You’d felt him rutting against your core already, but nothing prepared you for the reality. Pre-cum leaks from his tip, and he jerks once more when you press your thumb to it, swirling the moisture around his crown before you gently brush your fingers from tip to base, enjoying how his whole body practically sings at the touch of your soft lips and playful fingers.
“Wow, Wally, you’re so hard.” You speak softly against his jaw.
He turns to look you in the eye as he sincerely replies: “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
“Well, you don’t have to wait anymore.” You remind him, eagerly shuffling forward until you’re close enough to slip his cock between your folds. “You gonna fill me up with your cock?”
“Yea-.”
“Ahem.”
Immediately grounded by the sound of his voice, you both turn to face Dick. In one hand he’s holding his spit-slicked cock, evenly stroking it in long, relaxed motions. You almost want to crawl over there and take it in your mouth, but tonight is all about Wally, maybe you can persuade Dick to take a more active role if and when he shares you again.
In the other hand he holds a condom, the moment you and Wally register it you laugh at yourselves sheepishly for getting carried away. You reach for it first, but Wally beats you to the punch. Taking, unwrapping, and sporting it before settling back under your kneeling form before you even realise what’s happening.
“Our bad, man.” Wally apologies for the both of you, leaving Dick no time to respond before he’s nuzzling into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and lining his erection up with your waiting entrance once again. “Just wanna fuck you so bad, baby girl. C’mon, c’mon.”
He continues, impatiently encouraging you as you lower yourself onto his length slowly, enjoying the blissfully painful stretch as his cock spreads your soft little pussy inch by inch, forcing yourself to take it slow. But you can feel the excited energy radiating from Wally. His fingers and toes are tapping, his teeth painfully sinking into his bottom lip as he tries and fails to stay still for you. You’re halfway down when he snaps, impatiently thrusting into you from beneath, evoking a pained cry from between your gritted teeth.
“Wally!” You scold, only half meaning it. Feels to fucking good to stay mad.
“I’m sorry.” He immediately apologises, brushing your flushed skin with kiss after hurried kiss. “I’m sorry, you just feel too good. Couldn’t help it. You took it so well. Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
Though he keeps murmuring apologies into your skin, not once has he stopped rocking his hips. Gleefully enjoying the way your face scrunches together, and your nails bite into his shoulders.
He keeps on murmuring his apologies right up until you lock your lips on his. You revel at how he never fails to smile into your kisses, even as you roll your hips upward. You plunge back down quickly, and he breaks your kiss to fall back, slack against the bed.
For once he doesn’t say anything, his emerald eyes greedily watching as you start to ride his cock in short, fast motions. At least, fast by your definition. You hope it’s everything he dreamed. If the way his eyes start to roll around, his body practically buzzing, it has to be at least close.
It’s pretty damn good for you too. The drag of his cock between your tender walls, the way he’s so happy to let you fuck yourself on him, to take whatever you need from his body, all the while watching you with nothing but lust-riddled adoration.
“Fuck. Wally. You’re driving me crazy.” You confess.
“He’s not doing anything.” Dick mutters, and you swear you’ve heard him mutter something akin already today.
But Wally appreciates your compliment. Confidently he weaves his hands behind his head, puffing up his chest as he turns to Dick. “Watch this.” He winks.
You nearly double over as his shaft begins to vibrate. It’s like your pussy takes over your body and you immediately sink lower onto him, trying to take him as deep as you can. Not a care in your mind as you keep calling his name, and desperately sway your hips in circles, enjoying the stimulation.
“Don’t stop now, babe.” Wally encourages, his voice shaking in time with the way his body pulsates, but it remains thick with fervour.
“That’s it, oh yeah.” He keeps going, holding your hands as you will yourself to keep sliding up and down the length of his cock. “Gee, you're so beautiful.”
The worship doesn't stop, his mouth moving just as fast as the rest of his body.
“Feels good right?” He asks keenly when your short breaths and slow riding turn loud and erratic. “You gonna cum again?”
You swear the moment a strained 'yes' leaves your mouth, the pressure stroking your inner walls multiplies tenfold, and it makes your muscles strain beyond use. “Feels so fucking good.” You can’t function. Luckily you don’t have to.
Wally takes you through it from beneath your trembling legs; rapidly thrusting up into your needy cunt and driving his thumb onto your clit until you buckle, toppling onto his chest as your orgasm pulls at your core.
“Man, she really milks it, doesn’t she?” His other hand wraps around your ass cheek, using the leverage to keep you bouncing just a little, easing his movements as rides out every last shockwave.
“Greedy is what she is.” Dick answers. “Give her a minute, she’ll be wanting more.”
He isn’t wrong. He rarely is.
At no point does Wally stop pumping into your oversensitive pussy or rubbing at your tender, swollen bud. It doesn’t take long until your walls start to pull tight around his cock, aching and begging for another climax.
“Oh, Wally~” You mumble into his shoulder, griping his biceps to support your heavy bones as you sit up once more.
Your movements are sloppy, eyes only half focused, but you’re determined to find a rhythm. The moment you fall into one, however, Wally cries out, arching his back into the mattress and slapping your ass repeatedly in fast, desperate motions.
“Stop! Stop stop stop.” As soon as his words register in your brain, you pull away from him, reeling back completely, but he chases after you, ensuring his cock doesn’t leave the refuge of your warm, wet pussy for even a second.
“Are you okay?” You ask, confused and still half-dazed from having cum twice. Already enjoying the way his cock fills you in all the right places from this new angle; your back against the bed, hips inclined upward and legs around his waist. You don’t recall folding them around him, he must have done that for you.
“Yeah, I’m doing great, don’t you worry.” Wally reassures you, fingers in your hair, nose nuzzled in the crook of your neck. Already snapping his hips at a speed far beyond any normal human capabilities. “You make me feel so good. Such a tight. Sweet. Wet. Cunt.”
He’s telling you.
“So close.” He huffs through his teeth. “Can’t. Not yet. Wanna make it last.”
“I’m surprised you don’t want to finish in her mouth.” From this angle, you can’t see Dick as he chips in. But the sound of his voice makes you lightheaded, makes you wish he was more involved in the action. “I thought you’d be all over that.”
Wally comes to a complete standstill in t-minus 0.5 seconds, blankly staring into your eyes for what seems like an eternity before eventually turning to Dick, wide-eyed and fervid. Ignoring the way you desperately wither on his cock for any modicum of friction. “I can do that?”
“Yeah. She loves it. Goes fucking gaga over it. Don’t you pretty girl?” Dick answers for you. “It’s what I’m gonna do when you’re done with her.”
“Yeah…” It’s true. The thought of Wally and Dick both spilling their load all over your waiting tongue would make you weak at the knees if they weren’t already jelly and you would never begrudge Wally the chance if it’s what he wants. But selfishly you want him so badly to keep fucking you. To take you over the edge on last time. So, with the roundest, wettest, most pleading eyes you can muster, you whisper; “but your cock feels so good, Wally. Please don't stop fucking me yet.”
Pride wells in his eyes as he looks down at you once more.
“What did I tell ya? Drunk on speedster cock already, huh?” Steadily he begins to buck into you once more. He’s slow and guarded, like he’s trying to hold back. “Even though it is my gift… Just one more, yeah?”
Absent-mindedly you brush your fingers through his fair, silently rewarding him for giving you what you want, admiring the way it makes his features soften, until the sound of Dick’s voice makes you both jump.
“Push over.” He jeers light-heartedly, but his grip is anything but as he grabs your arms and pulls you until your head hangs from the side of the bed. At no point does the feel of Wally’s cock dragging and pulsating deep with your walls falter, he follows close behind and pays Dick no mind as he continues to scold the pair of you. “Told you, if you’re too nice she’ll walk all over you.”
You on the other hand can’t take your glassy eyes off him. He’s the only one of you that’s still clothed, but for his pants which are now around his knees. His full length just inches from your face. You don’t realise your itching toward it, mouth open until he halts you by sticking two of his long fingers into your maw.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Dick asks, and Wally only shakes his head before slinking his face into your bosom. For a moment, Dick retracts his digits, using both hands to hold your tits closer together so that Wally can really rub his cheeks between them.
“Not at all.” Wally confirms, voice muffled by the fat of your breasts. You can’t even laugh, too weak from Wally’s cock, too eager for Dick. Even if you could, you don’t have the time. The moment he gets the go-ahead, Dick re-busies his hands, cupping your cheek and bringing his tip to your waiting lips.
Wally, seemingly determined to drag this out as long as possible, continues to fuck into your pussy agonizingly slow. He’s practically edging you at this point. Driving into you at the perfect pace to keep you wanting more without ever bringing you any closer to climax.
Dick has no such reservations. He’s already close, you can tell by the way he immediately begins to pant and clench as he drills his cock to the back of your throat, uncaring as to how you sputter and cough around him. He knows you can take it.
“Shh. You’re doing so well.” He praises when you grab onto the comforter, white-knuckling it as your body starts to jerk, desperate for air. His hand quickly relocates to your throat, pinning you back to the bed and practically jerking himself off through the flesh of your neck. “That’s my good girl.”
“Oh fuck. She’s clenching on it.” Wally's grip on you tightens, his pace growing faster but uneven. “Shit, that’s amazing, don’t stop.”
The tipping point comes when you feel the salty thickness of Dick’s release hit the back of your throat. If you could eat your words, you would. You’d practically begged Wally to get you off one last time but now that it’s rippling through you, you’re starting to ache, in and out. The bittersweet, joint-curling, body throbbing ache that feels so unbearably good. The sharp, salty taste of Dick filling your mouth only intensifies your pleasure.
Dicks legs buckle as he finished, but he’s careful not to force his weight onto any more than he has been, and when he’s done, he releases his grip on your neck in favour of elevating your head, making sure Wally gets a good look at your blissed-out face and cum filled mouth. You haven’t swallowed yet, to gone to remember that Dick isn’t calling the shots tonight, so you don’t have to follow his rule of not swallowing until told.
“Look at that.” He muses in awe. “Told you, she fucking loves it.”
“I can see that.” Wally replies, but his eyes are on you. “You’re a pretty cum whore, ain’t you? You want some more?”
You nod awestruck at his words, you really hadn’t expected Wally to call you a whore, especially after he’d spent the night praising you so heavily. It does something funny to your body, making you feel light and tingly all over again, your pussy clenches around nothing. Wally has already disposed of his condom and made his way to your mouth. You sputter around the sudden intuition as he starts fucking Dicks cum deep into the back of your throat.
Dicks hold on your head prevents you from moving, but Wally doesn’t take long. Could be a just a couple of strokes, could be a hundred, it’s hard to tell through your naked, human eyes, he’s moving so fast it’s a blur, whatever he’s mumbling drones into a strange hum that vibrates through your body and then there’s a second, hot, thick load seeping down your throat.
As soon as you can, you swallow everything, instinctively looking at Dick for approval. He smiles back at you, that sly, proud smile he gives you almost every night that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy.
“Did you have fun, baby?”
“Oh, hell yeah!” Before you can speak, Wally interrupts. He’s strewn out across the bed beside you, smiling to himself like the cat that got the cream until his eyes flicker between you and Dick. “Oh, you mean her. Haha. Sorry.”
“I did, lots of fun.” You confer, scooting closer to Wally who is more than happy to take you into his arms, connecting his lips to your abused neck in seconds to plant soft, soothing kisses on your aching skin, unaware of how you reach your arms out to you boyfriend until he pulls up his trousers, climbs on the bed beside you both and settles on his side, not until Dick responds.
“Don’t you wanna get cleaned up?”
“Not yet.” You tug at him, pulling him closer until you're comfortably sandwiched between them both. Wally had taken it out of you, your body feels liquefied, and your eye lids are growing heavy. All you want to lay still in their company until you can find your baring and muster some energy. “Just want to cuddle for now.”
“Okay.” He replies hesitantly, occupying himself by checking your wrists, ensuring there are no bumps or bruises from your bindings. “But I don’t want Wally getting much more comfortable.”
“Hey! This is my bed.” Wally snaps back petulantly.
“If you don’t like it you can leave.” He only spares Dick a glance long enough to emphasise that he’s teasing before he turns back to you. “You can stay though.”
They go back and forth, play fighting for a long while, teasing threats and questions of a second round are bounced around, but you’re too tired to keep track. After a while their hands still, but stay gently fixed on your body as you’re lulled to sleep, relaxed and contented, long before Wally reminds Dick that his birthday is coming up soon.
<3
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CONVERSELY, Imagine feeding your F/O because they can't. you made sure of that.
Maybe they're tied up, locked somewhere special only you can find. They're not allowed to have their hands free. They're still such a fighter!
When they get hungry, you bring them food and water, of course, but the only way they're gonna get it is if they let you take care of them.
Leaving their hands bound. Airplaning food over to their mouth. Controlling the pace that they take bites, how fast they drink. Maybe at some point, they choke a little as you hold a bottle of water to their mouth. Whoops!
Taking a risk, giving them finger food. One hand under their chin as you bring their next bite to them. They better not bite, or they'll find out just how hungry they can get.
Then you get to coo over your captive little F/O, happy and full! (Well, maybe only one of those things...)
