I present to you an excerpt form Love is an Aperture. This continuing from the first time Sal and Buck scene together.
As a reminder - this fic is going to be dealing with BDSM and D/s themes. YKINMKATO applies. TW: Flogging. It's under the cut because we're getting right into it.
Buck doesn’t get any warning before Sal lashes him with the flogger. He starts hard. Buck’s skin already warmed up, and the sharp, thudding pain spreads through him. Sal lets the tails drag over the abused skin, before coming in again, a little harder.
This time, Sal builds up a slow, steady rhythm, the tails landing indiscriminately on his thighs and ass. The rich, heavy pain lights up his nervous system, until he feels like he’s floating with it, small grunts huffing past his lips with each strike.
Buck couldn’t tell you how long the flogging went on for, the only sounds in the room are of leather meeting skin, and their sharp breaths. Sal seems to be panting with exertion, but he doesn’t let up. He clearly knows what’s he’s doing, and Buck is flying.
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Dom!Oliver Queen x Sub!Fem!Reader
Word count: 1534
Warnings: SMUT
Y/N: Your Name
Summary: You came without permission and now you have to deal with your punishment
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My eyes fluttered open as the fog of sleep slowly started leaving me. I could tell from the light streaming through the window that it was morning. I turned to roll over, but something prevented me from doing so. There were bounds on my wrists and ankles, holding me in a spread eagle position. I pulled against them, I could move a little bit, but just barely. Oliver was nowhere to be seen as I struggled. I wondered why I was tied to his bed, but then I remembered. I had been a very bad girl.
I waited for what felt like forever, the tension building. The ideas of what Oliver could do to me were racing through my mind. I wasn’t allowed to cum without Oliver’s permission and I blatantly disobeyed him. The door finally opened and he walked in, holding a black silk blindfold. He smirked and sat on the bed next to me. I gulped and looked up at him nervously.
“ I see you’re finally awake, pet. Do you know why you’re tied up?” He asked.
“I think so, Sir…” I answered and he raised a brow.
“You think? I’m pretty sure you know. Why don’t you tell me the reason you’re all tied up, pet?” He said.
“Because I disobeyed you, Sir.” I said.
“How did you disobey?” He asked.
“I came without permission, Sir.” I answered.
“You did, slut, and now you’re going to get what’s coming to you.” He said as he placed the blindfold over my eyes. My heart started to race and I strained against the bounds. I felt him get off the bed, but I couldn’t tell what he was doing.
Suddenly, I heard the whoosh and felt an impact on my breast. I tested and gasped in shock. A flogger. I felt him lightly drag the strings across my body. They danced across my face, down my neck, circling my tits, and finally down to my pussy. The strands slowly dragged down my pussy, causing me to shiver. Then I feel his fingers stroke my cunt.
“Wet already? You naughty girl, only dirty sluts get excited from punishments.” He said. His fingers slid inside my pussy and I moaned, trying to push against him to get more inside me. He took his fingers away and then crack! The flogger snapped against my pussy. I cried out, trying to move away, but I couldn’t. I felt his breath fan against my ear.
“Greedy little slut, trying to get fuck, hmm? Well, this isn’t for your pleasure, this is a punishment. This is what you deserve for disobeying.” He growled. I whimpered and gripped the bounds, desperate to cling to something.
Crack! Crack! Crack! Three quick swats snapped against my tits, stomach, and pussy. I moaned, feeling the pain and adrenalin course through my body. The blows kept coming and I cried out each time, especially when I felt the flog slap against my nipples. Even though it hurt, I felt so safe. I knew I was getting what I deserved and I loved it. My body felt like it was on fire. My breasts must be glowing red judging by how many times he’s struck them. My nipples are beyond sensitive from the abuse and I all but scream when it comes down on them once again.
I felt his hands rub my tits, rolling my nipples between his fingertips. I bucked my hips and cried out, the sensation was like a lightning bold driving down to my clit. I heard him chuckle.
“Sensitive, slut?” He asked.
“Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.” I answered.
“Then you’re gonna love this.” He said before I felt a familiar pressure on both sides of my nipples. The clamps. My nipples were already so sensitive, I don’t think I can handle the clamps.
“Sir, I can’t…” I whimpered.
“Can’t what, pet? Use your words.” He said.
“I can’t take the clamps, Sir, please no…” I begged. A sharp slap was felt against my tits, making me squeal.
“You can take them. Your body is mine to do with as I please, slut, don’t forget that.” He said. The clamp tightened on one of my nipples. I rolled my body to try and escape the next one, but that just earned me another slap on my breasts. The pain mixed with pleasure coursed through my body as the second clamp was tightened. He pulled the chain that connected the clamps, causing me to moan in protest.
“There. You look good enough to eat right now, pet. All hot and wet for me, and your skin is such a pretty shade of red.” He whispered in my ear. I smiled, comforted by his voice.
I heard the flick of a lighter and furrowed my brow. What was he using a lighter for? Then I felt it. A drop of something fell onto my stomach and the stinging heat radiates out from my already reddened skin. Hot wax. Before I could even process it, more drops of wax fell onto my skin. It’s nothing I can’t handle, but it still hurts. Some drop more than others. I can feel the heat of the flame at times, and that’s when the hottest drops fall. The pain makes me squirm. I tried to push into the bed, he just moved the flame closer. He tugged on the chain connecting the clamps and immediately after a heated drop of wax fell between my breasts. My body tenses.
“Oh god, please, Sir, not my tits! Please don’t, it hurts so much…” I begged.
“Not your tits, hmm?” He hummed.
“Yes, Sir, please…” I begged again. He jerked the chair again and even more drops of wax fell between my breasts. I cried out in both pain and shock.
“I don’t think you’re understanding what’s going on here. You don’t get to make requests.” He said as I felt the drops of wax spiral around one of my breasts, circling towards my nipple. A whine escaped my lips as my body twisted and turned in anticipation. I felt the head close to my nipple and cried out, tensing my body pre-emptively, but it moved away. I feel the same wax pattern drip onto my other breast and the head close to my nipple once again.
“Are you ready, little one?” He asked in my ear, his tone gentle. I knew he was checking in, making sure I didn’t want to safeword. As much as I didn’t want to feel what was coming I knew I deserved it for disobeying him. Slowly I nodded my head.
“Yes Sir…” I answered breathily. The words barely escaped my mouth before I felt the drop of heated wax fall onto one of my nipples. I screamed with pain. The combination of the clamps and heated wax was too much, but I wanted to be good for him. I had to take it. My body heaved with each breath and he stroked the side of my face, lovingly.
“One more.” He said. I tensed again, but he brushed his fingers through my hair until I relaxed a little. Then the drop fell onto my other nipple. I screamed out again, twisting my body in pain. I heard him blow out the candle and lie next to me. He gently kissed my lips.
“Good girl. That was a lot, wasn’t it?” He asked.
“Yes Sir, but I deserved it…” I answered.
“Yes, you did, pet. But there’s still one last thing.” He said. My eyes widened under the blindfold. His hand moved to the chain, making the clamps move slightly. I cried out again, my nipples were incredibly sensitive. The chain lifted and I felt a tug.
“Prepare yourself, pet.” He said.
“For wha- OH FUCK! SIRRR!” I screamed as he tugged on the chain so hard that the clamps were pulled away from my nipples. I felt all the blood rush back into them, creating a throbbing sensation. I let out a wail as I thrashed against the pain. My tears were wetting the silk, but eventually, the pain subsided to a gentle throb. A wet washcloth slid across my skin, rubbing away the hardened wax. He was extremely careful around my nipples, but the shock still coursed through my body when I felt the rough towel against them. The bounds were removed from the wrists and ankles and then the blindfold was lifted. The first thing I saw when my eyes adjusted were his gorgeous blue-green eyes.
“Hey there, pet.” He smiled and I smiled back.
“Hi, Sir.” I replied shyly. He pushed some hair from my face.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, caressing my cheek.
“Better Sir, thank you.” I answered.
“Are you sorry for disobeying me?” He asked.
“Yes Sir. I won’t do it again.” I answered with a small smirk and he chuckled.
“Oh, I think you’ll do it again. You are a very bad girl after all.” He said and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Maybe…” I said as he gathered me in his arms.
“I love you, Y/N.” He said.
“I love you too, Oliver.” I said, knowing our playtime was over for now.
As he stared at the setting sun, Wally couldn't help but think about the bright future he had ahead of him, only for it to slip between his fingers. Now it was growing dark, and the cold was creeping in. Wally could feel the end was near.
Little did ne know that a pair of sky blue eyes were watching him in anguish.
A lady no sailor wanted to get intimate with, especially not the ship boys and midshipmen. It was a term used to describe a sailor who was lashed over one of the ship’s guns and flogged. This was more of a punishment for the boys, where they were given a good spanking with mostly 6 and not more the 48 strokes on the bare bottoms. It should be noted that only boys under 19 received a spanking punishment, all others above that age could actually be flogged.
Married to the gunner's daughter, by DS c.1800-1850 (x)
A boy being flogged or spanked was allowed to bite on a piece of skin or a wrapped cloth, and after every dozen lashes he was given water to drink, perhaps more to enhance the ritual than for genuine medical reasons. More than superficial bleeding rarely occurred. Since this was not done with as much force as with an adult man. A flogging of 48 lashes was considered severe probably because of its duration more than the intensity of pain inflicted. Normally, this punishment was carried out only in the presence of a few officers but not in the presence of the entire crew, the boy was not to be humiliated. However, this was rarely adhered to, as the boy was to be punished.
The term is also known as kissing the gunner’s daughter.
Title: vicious cycle
Fandom: Final Fantasy XVI
Rating: Mature
Characters: Dion Lesage, Clive Rosfield
Warnings: Flogging, Hurt/Comfort (with very little comfort), possible Pre-Slash
Summary: While out on a stroll, on break from training new recruits, Dion stumbles upon a dispute between two civilians - with a Bearer stepping in to placate. One thing leads to another and he finds himself stuck with the unlucky task of doling out punishment to that self-same Bearer.
Here are a few lines about Williams being punished on the merchant vessel. It’s got a little longer and different than I expected. It’s long, very long. But I had these piece since months in my head. Also tried to write it as youth-free as possible.
Noon was long ago, when the sun was reflected on the wet deck. An innocent observer would now assume that it would have rained here recently. But this was not the case, the Artemis had anchored on this coastal strip in Indian waters a few days ago.
Captain Simpson had some catching up to do, including punishments. He nibbed on his red wine and reviewed the previous stick punishment. The man had whined about mercy, pissed himself when the Master had taken off. 12 beats with the raw stick had been it and this unworthy worm dared to whimper for mercy. Well, at least there had been some bleeding, but the real amusement was yet to come. If there was something Simpson enjoyed then it was punishment and on his ship he unfortunately had to impose some again and again, unfortunately his men always tended to disobey. On the one hand a shame that he found no reasonable people for his merchant vessel, but on the other hand also wonderful to see them twisting when the stick or the cat maltreated them.This idea of what was to come made him smile, no, even grin broadly. He had found a very special example .
A young lieutenant, not exactly ugly, just been appointed, unfortunately without a ship. The men held much of him and so he, Simpson became a proud captain of the East India Company in his authority undermined. But he would still exorcise him, break him and drive this elegance and brave behaviour out which he got from the Royal Navy. Another sip of wine, heavy chains clanging announced him. Two men took him, shuffled barefoot, more pulled by the men next to him, dressed only in breeches and a shirt loosely over his pants, to his captain. “ Well, I heard.” he turned his wine glass in his hand.
“Did you wiggle out the men again?” That was a statement, not a question. “ooh how often do we have to celebrate that? Until you finally realize who the captain is? Look at me,” he flinched and spat but the young man in front of him raised his head only slowly. The brown curls stuck to the head, the cracked swollen and bitten lips distorted to a slight smile, the blue eyes seemed stump but a hint of glowing was still recognizable. “Take him off and make him tight.”
“ But sir… and I beg your pardon. But he won’t survive that. The six dozen in the last few days have been too much. Please think God has forgiven, too,” a little chubby man with glasses had stepped forward. He was a guest on board the Artemis and was to be brought to India as a priest. Simpson turned to him bored. “I’m only doing God’s right here, and Mr. Archer, you’re a guest here, if I may remind you nicely.” His voice was calm yet sharp. Archer just nodded and quickly withdrew below deck again, what would now follow, he could not and did not want to look at. The men had done their job. The man hung more than he stood naked and tied to the rig. The master had taken the cat out of the bag, made it especially for him days ago and provided it with additional knots. “Do your duty two dozen, I will not be so today and show mercy before right.” he added with a sarcastic smile.
The master didn’t dare to look, the back was covered with bloody bandages, the skin underneath lay in shreds. But he had to swing and the first stroke hit. The knots hit the ribs and left the first striae, but the additional knots hit the existing wounds and tore them open. Fresh blood appeared on the bandages and the man gasped in pain. The second one hit the shoulder this time and the knots burst the thin skin of the clavicles. He screamed, the blood cleared his chest and belly. So it went on and on, each further blow tore the bandages from the body and with each time more and more skin and flesh. The blood flowed in streams had spread over the deck, the legs had long since given up their service, no longer wanted to wear him and so the ropes of the shackles additionally rubbed on the attacked skin of the wrists. Some punches hit his testicles, however, they concentrated this time extensively on his ribs, just as thin as with the clavicles the skin did not hold these strains long and burst like ripe fruits in the sun.
He had so firmly resolved Simpson not to give the joy of screams, he had tried so hard to his. But now he hung there, his would have long been taken from him like the skin of his back. And screamed, screamed from full throat the tears ran down his cheeks, Simpson laughed from full throat. Again and again he saw the faces of his friends and family and hoped not to see them again when the Master finally shouted “Two Dozen”. Buckets of sea water were brought and poured over him. The salt burned like fire, to the intestines. Why didn’t they finally release him and kill him. But this wish was not granted to him, Simpson appeared beside him. “See? What did I tell you last time? Don’t go behind my back or we will. “He reached into the fresh wounds the man cried. "Continue until you either learn it or you die. Mr. Mowett.” he almost spat his name out. “Take him down”
The next few hours lay in the fog as usual, which was why Mr. Archer gave him opium to stun him. While the sailmaker set to work sewing the remnants together again. Like the last time and the next time again. The Master asked as always if he was still alive what Mr. Archer affirmed but William had long since given up, if no miracle would be given, he would die here so much was certain.
“Okay, you tell me how dreadful it is, and I’ll make every attempt to pretend I didn’t hear.”
Aryan sat with his shirt off and his back to them, the skin along his spine bright red and welts appearing from where he had been flogged. He’d pushed his father a little too far this time, and he’d paid the price, though it was hardly the first time he’d done so.
