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The Les Mis Anon Kink Meme, Round 8
and I am winterborn
10littlebullets wrote in makinghugospin
Since LJ seems to have finally capitulated to the Russian government and is now subject to Russian anti-obscenity laws, I'm not going to take a chance on sudden deletions. The Les Mis kinkmeme now lives at https://lesmiskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/. (Round 8 here.) Everything has been backed up there. The LJ kinkmeme will stay up, but is now closed to new comments.

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Re: Les Amis, flogging, forced voyeurism - 2

He cannot allow any more of them to be hurt. Once again he tightens his grip on the handle of the whip, and turns back to Enjolras. He brings the leather down hard on his back.

First there is a loud crack, and then a scream quickly stifled. One long, red line has appeared, glistening in the candlelight, bleeding slowly.

“Good. Again.”

Grantaire complies. Again he raises the whip and brings it down onto Enjolras’ back, opening another furrow in his flesh and eliciting another cry from Enjolras’ lips.

He quickly loses count of the lashes, and cannot distinguish the wounds on Enjolras’ back through the obscene amount of blood that covers his skin. All he can do is continue, each strike earning a cry more pained than the last.

Let him pass out, Grantaire silently begs. Please, just let him pass out.

He has no concept of how much time has passed. Someone orders it enough, and he inhales sharply when he feels a hand on his wrist, feels the whip taken out of his hand, sees an officer unbind Enjolras’ wrists and the man drop to the floor in a heap.

He forgets the officers, forgets their friends, and rushes to Enjolras’ side. Blond curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat, his eyes bloodshot and lips bitten bloody.

Grantaire tears off what remains of Enjolras’ shirt and uses the linen to staunch the flow of blood from the deep gashes he created. “Lie on your stomach, thus,” he says softly to Enjolras, helping move the man into a better position on the ground. Grantaire pulls his own shirt off and begins to tear it into wide strips.

He hasn’t noticed the others have been taken from their cell and the two have been left alone. Nothing else matters but Enjolras, broken and bleeding by his own hand.

There is a cup of water, and Grantaire bids Enjolras to drink, tips the contents over his lips and helps tilt his head so he may drink.

After a few minutes Grantaire attempts to place a strip of his shirt atop the wounds, but Enjolras cries out, raspy and raw. Grantaire makes soft hushing sounds, gently running his hand through his lover’s hair.

“Can you ever forgive me?” he asks softly, ghosting his fingers across Enjolras’ pale cheek.

The other man reaches for his hand, and gives it a weak squeeze. He is too worn to speak, blood loss dizzying him, but he manages to curve one corner of his lip upwards. Grantaire brings his hand to his mouth and places a soft, gentle kiss on his fingertips.

“My love.”
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Re: Les Amis, flogging, forced voyeurism - 2

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Re: Les Amis, flogging, forced voyeurism - 2

really good! god I'm so sad.
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