#public humiliation tw
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The Party
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TW/CW: public humiliation, pet whump (I think?), objectification, whumpee on display, whumpee being talked about as if not even there, light microagression towards whumpee (?) This is fun to tag.
By now, Khaled should’ve been used to hearing the faint sound of metallic clinking as he walked. His owner used to bind his feet in cuffs for nearly a year straight when he had first come into his home, leaving just enough chain in between to walk comfortably and not an inch more. That was nearly six years ago, yet even hearing the faint shk shk shk of shimmering chains whenever he moved mentally transported him back to boyhood, when he was scared, shy, and didn’t know what was going on or what was expected of him. Much like tonight.
“Stand up straight, pick up your feet, and don’t look so glum,” Thomas chided.
Easy for you to say, Khaled thought as he eyed his fully dressed owner in envy. The mafia boss was dressed in a three-piece suit as usual, though he had changed into one of the more expensive ones for tonight’s function, a charity ball of some sort. The garnets set into his golden cufflinks glowed like freshly shed blood under the foyer’s lights as he gestured at him.
Khaled wore gold and garnets of his own, except they were…everywhere. They were in his earrings, in his nose ring, studded like pomegranate seeds in his necklace, acting as connection points in the harness-like body chain draped over his bare chest and torso –he was covered in them and still felt naked. A sheer and silky fabric tied unskillfully around his waist matched the color of the sanguine jewels and provided the only shred of modesty in this obscene outfit. Khaled prayed it would not fall off, but he did not favor his chances.
At least I get a break from that chastity cage, he consoled himself.
He straightened his posture and adopted a more neutral expression. His master smiled. “Good boy,” he said, and yet the usual praise did not ease the nervous churning in his gut. The golden bracelets on his wrists, matching the bands on his ankles, clinked softly as the man reached out to squeeze his hands in reassurance. “You look beautiful,” was all he said to him before he dropped his hand and parted the large doors to the ballroom.
Khaled’s skin seared hot under the chandelier lights as he felt the gaze of every patrons’ eyes on him. Keeping his eyes focused on some neutral midpoint ahead of him –like that potted plant, yeah, is that even real? –he followed his master into the fray, swallowing nervously as he heard the heavy doors close behind him. It felt like everyone was staring at him, and from the glances he dared to take from his periphery, he understood why. Every other patron was dressed in formal attire. Even the few escorts he saw -and he could recognize a fellow sex worker when he saw one- were dressed more modestly than him. At least their chests were covered! His face burned with embarrassment, a blush that probably rivaled the cerise garnets, all the way down to his collarbones.
The boss stopped, finally, and so did he as they settled into the corner of the ballroom. They stood next to the bar and very close to the table laid out with several dozen little canapes. Khaled’s stomach loudly rumbled and his mouth pooled with saliva just looking at them. He hadn’t eaten since lunch, which was nearly eight hours ago. He glanced at his master, who was currently receiving a glass of whiskey from the bartender, and he carefully stretched a hand out to reach for the tartlet-thing closest to him.
“No.” His bracelets jingled as his hand was swatted away like he was a misbehaving pet. His master stared down at him as he threw back the shot of whiskey. Khaled drew his hand back to his side. “I’ll feed you when we get home, if you’ve been good, that is.” He sighed, but reluctantly nodded. He cast his gaze down to his sandaled feet as he tried not to think about the ever-present food and the persistent gnawing of his stomach.
A pair of expensive black leather shoes stepped into the top of his vision. “Thomas, so glad you could make it,” the unseen stranger greeted.
“Wouldn’t miss this for the world,” his owner replied, a polite smile in the tone of his voice.
“So, who’s this?” The stranger’s attentions were on him.
“This,” he said boastfully, “is my darling, my dearest, my worst-kept secret!” Khaled wanted to shrink away from the attention, but has master’s hand on his waist reminded him not to. “Come on, Khaled!” He summoned his courage to look up. An older man with a pot belly and a short, dour-faced wife on his arm was appraising him curiously, as if he was an exotic item and not a person. Smile, damn it, an impatient voice rang in his head. He flashed them a shy smile as he looked at them through his kohl-rimmed lashes.
“Your intern?”
“My ‘intern’,” his master clarified.
“He’s a pretty one, how long have you had him?”
“Oh, about six years now, come this spring.”
“Wow! Well, you’ve obviously been taking great care of him!” It was so obvious that this stranger wanted to do more than just look at him, with the way his fat fingers practically vibrated in excitement.
“Six years?!” a second guest –a tall and thin woman– gasped. Khaled realized by now they had attracted a small crowd of partygoers to the bar, all with the intent to sneak a peek at Don Costa’s boy toy. He ducked his head in shame.
“Mine didn’t even last six months!” the woman whined, trying to garner sympathy.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I just got lucky, I guess,” Thomas shrugged.
“Tell us, how is he in bed?” another guest asked.
“Good, though there’s not much skill in lying back and taking it!” A chorus of laughter accompanied his master’s. He found a scuff on the hardwood floor and pretended that was the only thing that existed.
“Does he speak?” yet another faceless guest asked. The whole semicircle of gawkers fell silent. Khaled dared to look up. All eyes were on him.
“Well, go on, boy, say something,” his master directed.
Khaled wanted nothing more than for the earth to swallow him whole.
“W-what should I say?” he asked nervously.
An irreverent number of oohs and aahs erupted from the small entourage.
“Not even the faintest hint of an accent!” the first man exclaimed. “Now tell me, Tom, did you train him to speak that well?”
“No,” his owner admitted, “I mean, I hired a tutor to teach him English, but he trained the accent out of himself on his own.”
“Why, though?”
The stretch of awkward silence indicated they were waiting yet again for Khaled to speak, that they wanted him to answer. Khaled shifted his eyes to the floor again, swallowing past the discomfort of being scrutinized this closely. “Because… I didn’t want to stand out.”
-
“You were amazing!” Thomas complimented Khaled as he watched him shovel take-out falafel pita into his mouth like it was his first meal in days.
“So, this was just a one-time thing, right?” his beloved slave asked, cheeks distended with half-chewed falafel.
“Hey, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Thomas chastised him, “I trained you better than that.”
Khaled swallowed the food and apologized under his breath. “And to answer your question, who knows? They couldn’t keep their eyes off you,” he smirked pridefully. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you, either. He glanced from the road over to his passenger in the car. Khaled had looked every bit as alluring as he had imagined when he was covered in gold and jewels and blood red silk. He would never admit he was hard for nearly the entire time they were at the party, but the evidence probably spoke for itself through the bulge in his slacks. “It’s no wonder though. Red is a good color on you.” And I want to see what you look like in blue next, he mentally added. “I just might drag you out to other parties in the future if we get attention like that.”
Khaled set his stub of a pita down on his lap. Thomas couldn’t help but grimace; what if it left a stain? “Do I have to dress like this again?” the young man asked, though his defeated tone told him he already knew the answer.
“Oh, don’t be so sad about it, you were gorgeous!” I thought about nothing but how to get you alone for the entire time we were there!
“I was nearly naked, Master. In public. In front of strangers. Does that not bother you?”
“So? I like to show off what’s mine,” he shrugged. “Look, when you’re free, you can choose to wear whatever you want, but until then, you’ll put on whatever I give you, okay?” Khaled slumped further into the car seat. Maybe it was a bit cruel to tease him with the freedom he’d never willingly give him. Thomas sighed, feeling a little guilty. He reached out a hand to pat a silk-covered thigh. “It won’t be very often, I promise,” he reassured him.
“Yes, Master,” his pet murmured.Thomas smiled. At the red light, he leaned over to kiss the side of Khaled’s sauce-stained lips.
Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee
#whump writing#pet whumpee#tw objectification#put on display#tw humiliation#tw public humiliation#tw slight microagression#if you ask very nicely I will draw this outfit I described and share it#or i might just do it anyway if nobody asks
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...Of all the tweets of mine for TIG to see and like, WHY did it have to be this one??
...It was in response to some pictures of him from a production of Camelot HAHAHA I'm so embarrassed!
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I don’t resent or mind being Physically Disabled really but I wish in all the convos about it we could talk about how genuinely embarrassing it can be-not trying to guilt anyone specifically or make any great statement explaining ableism towards an able bodied audience but it just will always be embarrassing needing my Dad to carry me inside-it’s always embarrassing knowing you’re making a scene in public-it’s always embarrassing not being able to do something you could do yesterday. So much of being physically disabled is either “embarrassing yourself” or being embarrassed by others. It’s just humiliating honestly and I wish there was an easy way to talk about it tbh
Image id : a pink banner with the disabled symbol and two warning signs saying “this post is for cripples only. If you’re able bodied feel free to interact but be quiet. No I don’t care that you’re neurodivergent” end id
#I’ve had a long last hour. it was humiliating rather not get into it but also ur was nothing special?? because like.#to some degree public humiliation is the norm? if that makes sense#i babble#disabled tag#cripplepunk#cpunk#tw ableism
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God the bumble situation is so painful. I don’t think I realised how weird and bad it was when I first read it but yeah,, maybe it doesn’t register to people as as violent because they’re cats but multiple scratches has to be pretty serious and intentional.
ALSO why is “she wouldn’t fit in here” such a big point against taking her in?? I don’t remember but does anyone suggest the super obvious answer, which is to take her in and find her a suitable living arrangement? Maybe this is just me being a human and knowing that multiple humans in town would absolutely adore her but it really feels like the obvious solution to the problem to get her out of the situation, have her live with the cats temporarily, and either have her stay if she can handle it (and be taken care of as jagged peak is) or help her find a new home if she wants to go
Second also- it’s so clear that the Erins treat: being fat as a conscious choice which is worthy of ridicule. I thought of the jkr comparison and then saw your tag and was like thank god it’s not just me. It’s also clear that the Erins, consciously or not, think a little bit of xenophobia is okay and that eugenics, rather than being both fundamentally incorrect and deeply morally wrong, is sometimes right but bad because it’s mean
Sorry for ranting but your reading dotc has stirred all this up
Come! Let us rip into the Bumble Situation. It is never too late for fury.
I think a lot of people don't register it because of how the narrative is ripping into her for being fat and dramatic, to the point of even treating her domestic abuse injuries like tiny little scratches she's just whining about.
Tom waits for the humans to be looking the other way, and then BEATS her. He does it intentionally, and purposefully. There's so much about this situation that makes me feel sick, but I keep wrapping back around to Tom being given a redemption death, and avenged by his children.
Bumble is cold in her grave and Tom gets to have a loving sendoff. The man responsible for kidnapping children, getting Turtle killed, and assaulting a defenseless molly.
And Jagged Peak. The way he shows up just to insult her weight, and then is totally quiet as every insecurity he's ever experienced about his role in Clan life is used AS A WEAPON to throw someone out in front of his face...
"She won't belong" "she's useless" "she'll eat all our food and catch nothing"
It could have been used to talk about how ableism affects EVERYONE. Even the 'good' people you deem 'worthy'.
"No no Jagged Peak, you're not useless-"
"I can't hunt. Im just like bumble"
"No you're not because... you're my brother!"
"So I AM useless, Clear Sky was right, you ARE just playing favorites!"
It is impossible to use it as a weapon without being hypocritical about its application. Is disability bad, gross, and undesirable, or is it not?
#On the subject of JKR I had clownish stanning in my inbox from an HP fan.#I don't do public humiliation. So remember that I have a block button and I am not here to be annoyed.#Also I'm queer and make out with trans Brits and say aye for Scotland#In case that wasn't clear from my comparing Tigerstar to Margaret Thatcher#Tw domestic abuse#Tw ableism#Tw fatphobia#Bonefall Reads DOTC
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2023 year of whump: January 22
Whump prompt: Public humiliation
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Whumpee being strung up by rope into a stress position as a public punishment in the middle of a busy city. They were told not to let anyone help them, and was threatened badly if they did. What they were shocked to find out was the power of bystander syndrome, as people walked past them without so much as a glance of sympathy. After all, whumpee probably deserved this for what they’d done. Thats what the public was probably made to believe.
#2023 year of whump january#2023 year of whump#2023 year of whump public humiliation#whump prompt#tw stress position#tw public humiliation#tw bystander syndrome#breezy’s post#tw punishment
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i get emotional sometimes thinking about how well i eat when i'm at my boyfriend's place, because he's the only person ever in my life who has cared enough about me to find and prepare meals that i can handle with my ARFID :')
#i'm eating sliced melon and nuts that he's just brought through to me#and he's in the kitchen making me bagels and egg with sliced strawberries <3#when we first met i was so nervous to broach the topic of food because i was in the final throws of a bad ED relapse#and i couldn't eat in front of anyone and only had a couple of safe foods#but he'd lovingly listen to me describe meals i could eat#and he'd cook them for me and then let me eat on my own at his desk#never a single bad word about it#which is what i was used to because my family have borderline bullied and humiliated me about it for my whole life#we've come so far now and i can eat so much more and eat in front of him and even in public#but he still diligently makes sure he knows my safe foods and cooks so carefully for me#and ... yeah if i keep thinking about this i'm going to cry#but god. it makes me feel impossibly loved.#<3#ed tw
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If your celebration is still open, is this a possibility for Khaled?
♠ Leaving them at the mercy of strangers in a public display (stocks, pillory, cage, chained to something, etc)
Congratulations on your 100 mark btw! 🎊
Thank you anon! Yes, it’s still going on 🎉
(I’m shit at feet, so I kinda cut it off at mid-shins 😛)
Prompt List here
I bet I can take a few more before I move on! Have at it, folks!
#whump art#whump asks#strappado#tw public humiliation#multiple whumpers#shibari#bound whumpee#spreader bar#having a bad time
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Going on date in public or joining a group of friends while they eat out and meanwhile your partner absolutely refuses to leave your side. This is purely so they can press down on all the bruises, bite marks and hickies they gave you the night before through the guise of being cute and clingy. Whenever someone talks to you and you go to answer, they grab your thighs hard, exactly where a nice purple bruise stands out against your skin, causing you to wince and yelp a little bit. Being asked what's wrong by your partner as they tighten their grip on you, waiting to see if you'll break. Them constantly leaning to whisper in your ear threats of what they'll do to you if you let it slip. Eventually, they let one of your other friends in on it, and you're sat now between both that friend and your partner as they team against you. Asking your friend why they're helping them out, and it turns out your partner promised to let them add some of their own marks to your body, whether you like it or not. It's gonna be a looooong night.
#cnc kink#trans nsft#humiliation kink#tw restriction#tw bruises#tw marking#tw bite marks#hot#need someone to hurt me like this#public
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