Whip Cane Bloodborne Novels & Stories

He had a cruel smirk on his face as he towered over my weak body deriving joy in what he did. “You useless wretch! You are of no use to me!” he spat. His saliva splattering all over my face but that wasn’t a problem to me. I was used to it already and the only thing I wanted to stop was the whipping. “You made my guest make fun of me for having a weak slave that can barely get anything done without messing it up.” he continued with another whip landing on my back again. I felt so weak due to the wolfsbane laced on the whip he used to inflict pain on me. He ensured he always had his whip laced with wolfsbane so that my injuries would not heal fast.

I pulled at the whip, pulling the thorns out of his flesh with one sharp movement of my hand. Blood covered his white skin but I didn’t mind. I let the whip fall a number of times more until he wasn’t moving again. I tossed the whip to the ground, pulled my sleeves up and went outside. I returned not too long after with a bucket of water and emptied it on him.

The cracks of the whip and their screams of pain was all that could be heard but Tristan wasn't stopping anytime soon, even their desperate pleadings fell on deaf ears until Isaac interfered. "I think they've had enough don't you think?" Isaac said eyeing the almost identical wounds on their backs still fresh and dripping with blood unable to heal, at least it won't for a while because the whip had been laced wolfsbane. It must hurt like a bitch, he thought with a grimace. One of them has already passed out and his body was dangling from the ropes tied all the way to the ceiling.

If it will help Kayleigh, I’m sold. John lets go of my arm when I tell him that he can freely take my blood. I’m pretty sure he knows I’m not going to negate but I think he just wants to fuck with me. After filling up the syringe with my blood, he walks to Kayleigh and asks for her arm. “Isn’t that unsanitary?” I hold Kayleigh closer to me. “For normal humans, yeah. But not for wolf bloods. Should just be fine.” John does not even look at me when he replies.

But biting my lips harder till the metallic taste of blood hit my tongue to wade off tears or showing any signs of weakness. Blood sputtered over the floor, eyes rolled in the back of my head as I began to feel lighter as the whip kept on dragging some piece of my flesh along with it. The whips hurt like hell and when it landed on my back it felt like it dragged my soul out of my weak body, my eyes burned hot, fiery hot filled with unshed tears and trauma.

Each whip had been soaked in peppers. They began to whip them. As each whip landed on their skin, it tore away a piece of flesh. The exposed skin would feel extreme pain as the peppers touched them. They let out wails as the whips lashed them. Their sounds were so annoying. "Gag them" I instructed. Their mouths were stuffed with dirty socks. The only sound heard was the jingling of their chains and the sound of whip crackling in the air before landing on their skin. The room was soon permeated with the distinct scent of blood.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Cassandra walked in her laboratory, carrying a vial of blood. She approached her microscope, brought the small light closer and used a dropper to lay a blood drop onto the transparent glass. She sat there, looking into the device, adjusting it till she saw the blood cells clearly. She tore a piece of paper, jotting down her observation. This wasn’t good. Hepatitis B. She clipped it to her patient’s file and walked out, “Charles, make a call to Ms. Isabella Scoffield and direct it to my office. It’s urgent.”

Trista draped his jacket over her arm and turned slightly away, casting her gaze downward. Seconds later, the first muffled thud of the whip echoed through the room. The tip of the whip cut through the air with a short whistle, but the impact was heavy—the sound didn't crack; it vibrated between the floorboards and bone. The handle was inlaid with antique silver and obsidian, and the lash was infused with just enough aura to suppress a wolf's healing factor, making the "endurance" a mandatory part of the discipline. Cassian stayed pinned to the floor.

As much as possible she’s not thinking too much too because the vampires might be reading her mind that’s why her body is the one who’s moving naturally. She’s using the dark brown leather whip that Nana gave to her that can be used for both vampires and werewolves. Both can hurt when it hits their body but it’s much more severe to the vampire as this weapon is specially designed to fight them. The handle is intricately braided and reinforced for a secure grip, allowing for precise control and powerful strikes. The length of the whip is tailored for swift and agile maneuverability, enabling the user to strike swiftly and at a distance. Also, this is made out of metal of the whip to cut the e

“Give me the good stuff.” Cane, his expression grim, took a deep breath. He had a small, sterile syringe. With a precise motion, he drew a small amount of his own blood, thick and dark, into the syringe. This wasn't just blood; it was his essence, his very alpha nature, being offered as a sacrifice. He injected a measure of his blood directly into the amber serum canister Viper held. The glowing liquid swirled, taking on a silver sheen as Cane’s DNA infused with the concoction. It looked beautiful, deadly, like moonlight captured in glass.