Snakelet - Chapter 4
@augustofwhump Day 17 - Stress Position
@augusnippets Day 7 - Drowning
Word count: 409
Masterpost
Content: Nonhuman/vampire/immortal-ish whumpee, water torture, regular torture, stress position
Thank god there's another event going on I needed the extra inspo lol
~
It wasn't enough to suspend him from the ceiling like a glorified punching bag.
It wasn't enough to hang him up by the ankles, letting gravity put all the wrong pressure on his insides.
It wasn't enough to strain every aching muscle in his body, tying his wrists to his ankles, his horns to his elbows, his wings to his tail.
Oh, no.
He struggles to swallow in fear, taking a deep breath in preparation for the tub of water being summoned just below him, the arm holding him up by the hair the only thing keeping him dry.
They have to make it a game.
With an unceremonious splash, his hair is released, sending him face-first into the chill, murky water.
It's not a matter of how long he can hold his breath, of course. He doesn't need air.
It's a matter of how much pain he can take until he accidentally breathes in.
He does good, at first. If he'd been asked a few rests ago, he wouldn't have considered flogging to be "taking it easy", but the simple beating is almost welcome after everything else he's been put through.
The water is hardly even a concern; in fact, it's more of a comfort, a cool weight calming him through the pain.
When something starts to dig into his flesh, a few air bubbles escape him, though he diligently refrains from inhaling. More and more bubbles float to the surface as he feels more chunks of skin, fur, and scales torn out of him, until he can't let out anymore.
He's all out of air, and despite not needing it, the pressure on his lungs from his unvoiced groans has his instinct begging him to breathe in.
He resists.
He resists.
He resists, until a searing pain envelops him, as if every inch of his skin has been scorched.
Reflexively, he gasps for the air to scream, but all that fills his lungs is water.
Reflexively, he tries to cough the water out.
And reflexively, each desperate cough is followed by another desperate inhale.
Burning, burning, burning his lungs and his throat, as if the fire on the outside wasn't bad enough.
As he fights to fend off the instinct forcing him to drown himself, he barely manages to make out muffled laughter.
Just as he starts to regain control, he loses it to another burn even worse than the last.
And another.
And another.
And another.
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