FSE

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A RP session in which a wendigo let's the sadist wolf go all out on him.

Azren Silverthorn:

Well. A punishment is in order anyway.

Y.:

*his antlers were replaced by slightly white glowing stubs on his heads as he pulled off his jacket and then shirt before then pulling off his pants and underwear. His arms crossing over his chest as his antlers came back* this is somewhat useful when putting shirts on or takeing them off.

Azren Silverthorn:

*The fox has his usual black jeans on, and nothing else. Bare chest, bare feet. He walks up to you, a pair of rough looking leather cuffs in his hands*

Up.

*He simply orders, slipping the cuffs onto your wrists, pulling them on tight. He clip a short chain between them, before guiding them onto a hook hanging from the celing. With a remote controlled winch, he pulls the hook a few inches up, just enough to have you stand on the front of your feet*

Y.:

*he held his wrists out as you strapped the leather cuffs over his wrists. He had gone to a plantagrade stance so he wasn't so tall but when his hands were guided up and the winch pulling him more he stood on his toes comfortably as he was silent.*

Azren Silverthorn:

*The fox walks up to a nearby table, pulling one of the drawes open. He slips on a pair or thick, black leathers gloves, making sure they fit his hands well. As protection. Because right after them, he starts wrapping barbed wire around his knuckles*

I'm going to give you a choice here. Where should I start first, to tire myself up a bit before I work on other spots of your body?

Y.:

*he watched as you got yourself the thick gloves that you began to wrap with the barbed wire before coming over and presenting him the choice* well... I would say abdomen as it probably be a good place to tire yourself out with.

Azren Silverthorn:

How boringly normal

*He sighs, walking back to you. But instead of just starting with a punch, he instead grips your sides. The wire on the insides of the gloves dragging over your skin, as he rubs your abs almost like a lover would. Except a lover's touch wouldn't start ripping your skin as he pressed down harder while still caressing you. Leaving long, circling trails of jagged cuts and scratches.*

Y.:

*he looked at you as you said how boring it was. His boy prepared for punches but as soon as you began to rub the wire on his abs as it tore at it flesh he cringed and grunted in pain * agh... Fuck that is worse than... Unnph... Just a punch...

Azren Silverthorn:

Oh, trust me. It's nothing compared to this

*He finally delivers his first punch. If there was a boxing instructor nearby, he'd sing praise about it. Proper posture. Excellent positioning. The foxes whole mass put into it. Maybe except the aim. Instead of landing flat on your body, the punch glazes it. And that's way worse. The barbed wire doesn't just cut. It shreds. It doesn't just scratch. It rips apart. You can feel strands of fur yanked at first, then ripped off with the skin under them. The single swing leaving a long, ugly stipe of bleeding, mangled flesh.*

Y.:

*the wolf-deer took the grazeing blow that tore and ripped at the flesh and muscle of his stomach makeing him yell in pain and his body recoiled in the pain as blood poared from his wounds* aghhh! Fuck!

Azren Silverthorn:

That's more like it~

*The fox chuckles, watching you kick and scream, dangling by your wrists*

I wonder, how many hits it will take until your legs give... I almost feel sorry for your arms when it happens.

*Of course, his talking is not much more then a distraction. Making you focus on his voice. Not notice the coming uppercut that rips your flesh exactly opposite of the first strike*

Y.:

*his legs had already almost given out from the first hit across his gut as he listened to you. His eyes closed in pain and as he was about to speak out a reply the uppercut hits him tearing at the flesh on his jaw ripping it as he recoiled up and yelled in pain again only to fall back down and his legs not supporting him as one of his shoulder came out of it's socket with a sickening pop* aghhh!! My fuckin arm!

Azren Silverthorn:

Let me help that.

*He doesn't give you time to before the next hit lands. A straight up punch to your good arm. Not ripping across flesh, but landing right where your strained joint pushes your bones against your skin. Little fat or muscle in the way, making the barbed wire pierce your skin, the impact driving it deep enough to stab the bone. What's worse, he keeps his hand there, your collapse shredding your arm down his fist. And he doesn't stop there. His free arm grabs your dislocated shoulder, wire nipping your skin. He holds both of your shoulder as a father would a son he's proud of. Except soon after, he curls up his fists and slams both down at the same time, on both of your mangled joints*

Y.:

*his other arm popped out at the sudden hit to it from you as he yelled out in pain again. His body swinging with the bindings as he tries to get his feet under him but when you hit down at his shoulders it knocked any progress he had away as he yelled out his mouth opened wide.* AGH!! PLEASE! I'm sorry!

Azren Silverthorn:

Shut the fuck up and take your punishment

*He slap you across the face like a needy bitch. Shredding across you cheek and lips. He grips one of your ears and just squizzez down on it, twisting. Piercing it in at least a dozen spots, ripping out a chunk on the tip. And the more you bleed, the more violent he becomes. Another punch shreds you back, across both shoulder blades. A hard slap cuts across your buttcheek. A hard punch down onto your head jams barbed wire tips against your scull, ripping strands of your hair out as he pulls back*

Y.:

*he stopped talking. All the sounds he made were of pain as you hit and tore at different parts of his body as he quickly became a bloody torn mess as you continued to beat and tear him up with no end in sight.*

Azren Silverthorn:

Well you suddenly became less entertaining.

*He's standing in front of you, bearing you down. Stained with your blood, his forearms almost dripping with it. He smirks, and spits down right across your eyes.*

Let me see if I can fix that.

*He kick your legs apart. Before you know it, you feel both of his barbed wire covered gloves close around your furred nuts. Gentle at first - thou even the lightest touch leaves you scratched*

Y.:

*with his legs kicked appart and the sharp points being pressed into his balls he did his best to not move thought with each spasm of his body his nuts were scratched getting a whine of pain from him* i-im sorry master.

Azren Silverthorn:

Are you...?

*He squizzez down on both orbs. Hard. Even without the gloves it would be painful. With them, even he can't imagine the agony. Slowly he pulls them away from your body, each slip in his grip ripping across flesh. Pulling almost to a point of ripping them off. And then, he yanks them apart*

Y.:

Yes! *He was brought to tears as you squeezed at his balls and pulled at them cutting at the flesh with the sharp wire as he cried out in pain especially when they are yanked on as it sends him into a scream of agony*

Azren Silverthorn:

I wonder if they'll regrow... *He ponders, chuckling to himself. He lets one go, only to slam across it. Hard.*

Will they, slut?

Y.:

Yes! Along with everything else! *He gasped out hard as he felt the searing pain of his testicles with one being still held and the other slapped across hard*

Azren Silverthorn:

You just saved your worthless cock.

*He grabs your balls again, pushing them between his palms. Squizzing down on them like a vice. And then, just when you think it can't be worse, he starts rubbing his hads against one another. With your balls still between them. Literally ripping and shredding them apart off you. No matter how much you scream. How much you beg and moan. How much your body jumps in pain, he maintains his grip. Until you hear metal scaping against metal. Your sack gone, ground into chunks of unrecognisable flesh*

Y.:

*he screamed and yelled as you ground his balls to paste. His body going limp soon after as even though he had a remarkable healing ability his body took the pain and he was close to the point of passing out as he huffed and grunted his mind filled with so much pain that he couldn't think straight enough to even register the pain*

Azren Silverthorn:

I could end this session short right now. I think you learned your lesson. You just need to prove it.

*He holds his palms in front of your face. You can see a disgusting, unrecognisable mix of flesh, fur and gore that once was your balls spread across and dripping from his gloves*

Clean up your mess, and we're done.

Y.:

*being that of a cannibalistic species he began yo lick at it and doing his best to work around the barbed wire getting the fur and flesh as he worked trying to clean it off fully*

Azren Silverthorn:

*waits till you get most of the bug chunks off, along with getting your own blood to drip down your lips. Trust be told, he just doesn't want to wait too long. When he considers you done, he just slips the gloves off his hands, tossing them to the floor like useless trash. Despite the thick leather, you can see some cuts on his hand, bleeding. He wipes a bit of his own blood across your lips, before just walking off*

How long?

*He asks from a nearby sink, washing his arms clean off your gore*

Y.:

A day... *He assumed you had been talking about how long it took for him to heal back up from even the most serous of wounds you had given him* smaller... Smaller wounds would only be hours...

Azren Silverthorn:

Any type of damage that takes longer? Anything that can be made permanent?

Y.:

Burns... Burns are permanent... Cuts with silver leave long term scars.

Azren Silverthorn:

Hmm... We shall try a red hot silver brand then. Fitting, don't you think? *He chuckles, flicking his silver tipped tail at you*

A big, hulking brute marked as a whore to a plain, normal fox~

Y.:

Can you at least fix my shoulders if you are gonna leave me here please sir? *He looked down knowing the brand would be a huge hit to him. More permanent than a collar and more painful than a tattoo*

Azren Silverthorn:

*the fox just fishes a remote from a pocket in his bloodstained jeans. A single press of a button, and gravity if free to embrace you as you collapse onto the floor*

Deal with them while you grow a pair

*Laughing, he leaves, the reinforced metal door of the punishment room closing behind him. A moment later, all the lights go out. You're left alone, in a pool your own blood, among shred of flesh and ripped fur*