The Weekend Whip Novels & Stories

“If you shift, I’ll kill you.” The limping Wyatt returns with one of my favourite toys – my silver whip. That wasn't the one I had in mind, but it will do nicely. The lashes are made of silver chains and infused with Hemlock, which will leave permanent scars on the wolf's body. I’d prefer to use it on one of the twins, but they haven’t recovered from my last punishment yet, and much as I dislike them, they are strong warriors and handy in a fight.

“I may be an anomaly, but I’m a pureblooded freak, which is more than you can say…dog.” Reaching behind her back, Jasmine tugged free a tightly coiled whip. A whip? Who the hell used a whip? Well, who besides a cowboy from the west? With a practiced flip of her hand, Jasmine snapped her wrist, sending the tail of the whip cracking a mere inch from Lily’s face. Holy shit.

He saw the handle hanging out of the bucket and knew what that handle was connected to. Aiden began sobbing as Jackson grabbed the handle and pulled the whip out of a bucket full of wolfsbane. The whip was soaked in wolfsbane. The whip looked different than any whip his old Alpha ever used. This one had metal barbs all along the end. Panic and fear filled the Omega as he stared at the whip in horror.

I said emotionlessly, "One must face the consequences of their actions and accept the punishment." As soon as I finished speaking, I lashed out with the whip, striking Hailey directly. Werewolves possessed formidable healing abilities. The whips used by the Dawn Pack were soaked in wolfsbane. A hit from such a whip would slow down the healing process of the wounds. Moreover, the whip was specially made to cause intense pain with minimal force. I cracked the whip, and Hailey cried out in pain, "Ah, it hurts! Waaah, it hurts so much!"

Cypril stared at me with nothing but disdain. “This is what you deserve for stealing from my fiancée, Melissa,” Caleb added harshly as he stepped forward, extending his hand. Fredrick hesitated for a heartbeat, then handed him the whip without a word, almost gleeful that responsibility was shifting. Caleb ran a hand along the length of the whip, straightening it slowly, almost ceremoniously. The leather gleamed beneath the sunlight, slick and deadly. He lifted it once, swung it lightly through the air. Whoosh.

Severin replied with a smile. Wuhlricht stood beside her and elaborated upon the whip for Sheila. "You have a good eye, Sheila. This whip is a reasonably strong seventh-grade spiritual weapon. It's highly resilient, and most of the lower-grade swords won't be able to cut through it. It also has great flexibility that enables it to snake around its opponents." Sheila was delighted after hearing Wuhlricht's explanation on the whip. "A seventh-grade spiritual weapon? Sounds cool! I'll have that then!"

It was the type of whip used to make a loud cracking sound when flicked but much shorter than the type used by cowboys at the turn of the century. The man was very comfortable using the cracker whip. It flew through the air making the signature cracking sound. The woman didn't even flinch but Eileen jumped. I took the drink from her hand and pulled her onto my lap. I ran my hands over her exposed back and turned my attention back to the stage.

How I wish it were me. “Not talking today?” he asked and chuckled, “Good, let’s see if I can make you scream”. He said as he pulled out a bright whip. I looked at the color, and my eyes went wide, SILVER. This was going to be worse than any of those times before, “You like?” he asked and twirled the whip in front of me. “You’ve been such a good little bitch, I decided to get some new toys.”

Snake whip is a deadly and dangerous whip which is filled with dark poison and oak which burns the skin of a werewolf. Victoria! How could she be this cruel and evil? I asked myself but I couldn't get an answer to it. I'm going to make sure that she pays for what she did to my mate. I clenched my fist, with gritted teeth, trying to conceal the anger I'm feeling at the moment. "Can you help me revive her back?"I asked with a worried look on my face as I stared at her in pity. I shook my head with a sigh. I don't know why but I feel pity for her.

He was drowning in a sea of suspicion and dark, forbidden attraction. "The whip," I said, reaching out my hand. The executioner handed me a specialized lash. The handle was wrapped in rough sharkskin, the length of the leather soaked in brine and caustic spirits, its tip studded with obsidian shards the size of a wolf’s claw. In our world, this whip didn't just take skin—it took the will to live. I snapped the whip once in the air. Crack. The sound echoed like a lightning strike.