Whumptober 2020 Day 31: Today's Special: Torture—Experiment/Whipped/Left for Dead
Word Count: 1068
Author: Katie/Ally (aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl)
Rating: T
Characters: Olivier Armstrong
Summary: Olivier is in a high level Drachman prison. And her captor has a new item he wants to try out.
Notes: It's a little rougher then normal. But fear not, friends! For Comfortember is tomorrow, and all shall be made right!

Whipped

Time didn't pass right in some places and in some circumstances. She wasn't sure how long it had been, but Olivier felt that all she had know for years was this little nine-by-nine cell. From the first time she had woken up in it until now, it felt as if years had passed. She had no idea how much time had truly gone by. She had long ago lost track of it. It could have been months, or it could have been years.

At first, she had some concept of time, because she had been taken out of here for some of Geograg Sodeset's torture sessions. He had his own laboratory in this place, filled with all manner of horrific experiments done on people. Those days had been bad, and she had been left scared by them, but physically and mentally. He had never done those types of experiments on her, seeing as she was too useful to the state. So, he had turned his attention away from the type of experimentation he'd like to do, and more towards exploring her limits in torture. He had been delighted to find that she healed quickly and well, even in poor circumstances, and enjoyed trying new techniques on her, to see how far he might take them with other who were less resilient then she was.

She was highly suspicious that today was one of those days.

They had woken her hours ago, stripped her of her clothes, and put her arms in two chains, one that hung on either wall, keeping her hands separated. At the moment she could put some of her weight on her knees, although she couldn't completely relax. If she did, it pulled on her wrists, digging the shackles into them. She knew from experience that if they wanted to, they could raise those chains so that all she'd be able to do was stand, or so she was hanging with all of her weight on her wrists. They'd done it before, and usually that coupled with a stripping of her clothes meant that Sodeset wanted to do more experimentation.

She was left like that for what felt like a long time before Sodeset appeared above her cell and looked down at her. "Ah, good, you've been prepared!" he said joyfully. The soldiers with him removed the grate that was the top of the cell, and he climbed down the detachable ladder. He had something with him, and Olivier eyed it distrustfully.

"Ah, I see you have noticed my new item. Yes, yes, you see, I've been experimenting with some things lately. That was why I hadn't come to see you, you see."

She didn't respond only continued to eye him. He didn't seem to notice and just grinned, unwrapping the thing like a child gleefully unwrapping a present.

"You see, it is so hard to do some of my usual things in these cells. They're just not big enough. But they are an ideal size for everything else. So, I began to experiment with how to work one of my favorite activities into this room without loosing any of the efficiency or fun." He paused. "It is so much better when your work is not only fulfilling, but also enjoyable, no?"

She didn't answer him again, and he turned his attention back to the package. He finally finished unwrapping what he had. It looked like a shortened whip of some sort, with multiple heads that looks sharp and painful.

"I have managed to develop this whip that should function well in this smaller environment. There's not as much room for movement, you see. But I need a test subject of course, to make sure it works well. You recover from things so quickly, I decided it should be you! So, since you have been prepared, let us begin!"

She had expected that he would use this whip the moment she saw it, and to her eternal disappointment she wasn't wrong. He stood back behind her somewhere, she heard the whistle, and then, almost immediately, the feel of the whip hitting her and pulling skin away. She grit her teeth trying not to scream as it ripped her skin from her flesh.

He, however, did not seem to be satisfied. "Hm… perhaps this angle," he muttered to himself, and took another swing at her with it. Again, she felt it bite her flesh and rip some of it off. "Ah, that was better! Now let's try it this way…"

Again, and again that whip flayed into her back, her thighs, her side, her front. Each time it ripped away more and more flesh, and she eventually lost the battle with crying out when it hit her. He took notes of the different angles the whip worked the best at, having her lowered and raised to figure out how it worked well in different positions. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he stopped.

"Oh, that was good! Perfect! And look—you're still alive, just like I promised command. I knew you'd be able to take all the lashings I could give you." He walked around her, examining his handiwork as a whole. "You know, red is a good color for you. It really does make your eyes and hair pop. Perhaps we should put you in it more often." He sighed. "If only command would let me do what I truly wanted with you…"

With a sigh, he turned away from her and gestured for the ladder to be lowered. He climbed out of her cell, clearly pleased, although obviously contemplating the session. "We will let you heal, yes? And then we will continue." He called back and walked away.

As soon as he was gone, the door was closed and locked, and the guards lowered her chains, letting her fall to the ground of her cell, where she laid in a pool of her own blood, shuddering in pain. She knew that someone would be called to come and tend to her wounds shortly, to patch her up and keep her alive so that he could just torture her more. She feared the day Drachman command decided to turn her over to him for good.

If she got lucky, maybe they'd forget to call a doctor, and she could just be left for dead.

Anything would be better then being in that man's hands.