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subject-2-pain · 1 year

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Power Word Pain

Been sitting on this for a while. D&D related and offers some context, but not necessary to follow along.

TW: light body horror, implied grooming and pedophilia (not depicted)

It is already a few months into the semester, but Cainan is still practically giddy to be the young protégé of the famed inventor and respected professor, Frans Smilodeus. They hurry to the lecture hall where Cainan spends his lunches acting as Smilodeus’ assistant for an upper division class. He primarily performs menial tasks such as passing out and collecting papers.

They walk in silence, something uncommon for the professor. Slowing his gait as they walk down the final hallway, he finally speaks. “Cainan,” he says dryly, not looking down at his ward.

“Yes, sir?” The boy perks up, eager to respond.

"I'd like to use you for a demonstration today."

"Yeah, of course!" Cainan agrees, thrilled to be a part of whatever his tutor has planned.

When they walk in the room, Smilodeus’s demeanor changes from intense and decisive to the sort of bubbly attitude one would expect of an Enchantment professor. Cainan takes his seat behind the teacher’s desk, patiently awaiting his cue. After some greetings and pleasantries, the students get settled and the lecture begins:

"There are three 'power word' spells used in enchantment magic. You will not learn how to perform any of them at this school, as they are highly restricted, and should be avoided unless absolutely necessary.” His tone grows darker, “However, many of you may enter dangerous professions after your time here at the Towers, and as such should at least be familiar with these spells and their effects, should you encounter one. That is why I have asked Cainan to help me demonstrate one for you today."

Looking over to Cainan with an inviting grin, Smilodeus extends a hand, with palm face up, summoning the boy. Cainan stands nervously after such an introduction, stepping in front of the class and taking his tutor’s outstretched hand. The college students chitter amongst themselves, excited to see the magic trick.

Addressing the class again, Smilodeus goes on, "This spell is called 'Power Word Pain', and it is exactly how it sounds. It can cause terrible pain throughout the target's body, but only that. It is where enchantment magic reaches deep within the mind, and begins to affect the body.” Smilodeus gives Cainan’s hand an affirming squeeze. “The spell will not cause harm to them, nor is it capable of killing them,” he looks down at his ward, “despite how much it might feel like it."

Cainan’s eyes dart up to meet his tutor’s. "What-?"

Smilodeus leans down over his cane to be face-to-face with Cainan and whispers to him, "Your body is going to try to resist the pain and force out the magic causing it. In any other circumstance I'd say that's a good thing. But, for the purposes of this demonstration, please endure it until I instruct you otherwise."

Hesitation weighing in his lungs, Cainan takes a strained breath and opens his mouth to protest. But, how can he? He wants to impress, wants to please. Mouth open and eyes locked, Cainan exhales his anxiety and nods.

Smile tugging at his lips, Smilodeus assures him, "don't worry. You're safe in my hands."

Squeezing his hand one more time before letting go, the professor walks a few dozen feet away and then explains, "now this can be cast at quite a distance, but the school didn't give me that big of a room."

Everyone chuckles a bit while jotting down notes then watches with bated breath. Cainan keeps wide eyes fixed on the professor. He knows what spellcasting looks like. A gesture, an item, a wand, a string of ancient lyrics uttered. Preparing himself for any sign of what is to come, he clenches his fists by his side. His palms begin to sweat.

High on the anticipation in the room, Smilodeus finally speaks just one word in the tongue of ancient mages. Searing pain starts growing throughout Cainan's body.

"That's all it takes, one word. No focus, no materials, no gestures or runes. It is rather insidious in that way. It is hard to catch someone casting, and difficult to prevent them from doing so."

Cainan hears him continue to lecture to the class, but the words drown out under the waves of pain more intense than anything he's experienced. It begins as a tearing sensation just underneath his sternum, behind his ribs. He lurches forward, inhaling sharply as though something were ripping at his diaphragm. As per the request of his tutor, he suffers through it without resistance, but grits his teeth to keep composure in front of his audience.

Smilodeus continues, "with this intense pain, it makes it harder for a target to attack, cast any spells of their own, or resist any other effects that might be cast on them." Then he looks at Cainan and beckons him with a finger, "come."

All too familiar by now with this spell, Cainan still can’t manage to reject the command. He begins to make staggered steps towards his tutor, moving at a crawl. The pain extends through his legs as he moves. His bones compress beneath the flesh that pulses around them. He feels every contraction of the muscle tightening around his fragile bones, every electrical signal sent shooting down his nerves to compel him forward. They are embers sparking down lines of gunpowder, every step an explosion popping at his feet. It burns inside his boots, the skin surely melting off the soles.

After a few seconds, the command wears off and Cainan stumbles, leaning into the chalkboard with his elbow and shoulder. As he hits the board, his arm twists and contorts in place, joints disconnecting beneath his weight. He screws his eyes tight, the lids nearly fuse together. His grinding teeth are about to shatter to dust on his tongue.

"It also makes it harder for a target to move. The pain he is suffering would make anything he tries to do quite difficult, if not impossible." Smilodeus then says more quietly directly to Cainan who stands only a few yards away, "think you can keep moving this way? How are you doing?"

Cainan, coaxed on by his tutor’s concern and encouragement, opens his eyes and nods. Stumbling that way, he continues bracing himself on the board, smudging some old lecture notes on his sleeve as he drags along. He finds the courage to speak. "It's...a lot...but–"

Suddenly he stops speaking and moving, and feels everything tense up. It isn’t a new pain, but a prison, and his body is the cell holding him. Smilodeus is pointing his wand at him.

"Another unfortunate, and very powerful thing about this spell is that it doesn't require the caster to concentrate on it. I can do whatever else I like.” A sly smile unintentionally creeps across Smilodeus’s face. “I could even walk out of the room and leave him here like this."

At that, all the students start stirring as the weight of the situation and the severity of the spell start to sink in. Some shift in their seats and have stopped taking notes at this sadistic display. Cainan’s heart pounds at what feels more like a threat than a hypothetical. ‘No, don’t leave me,’ his mind begs, but he is unable to utter a word. Tears sting at his eyes, not like salt, but like acid.

"I asked Cainan to be my assistant for this demonstration because I know he has the strength and determination to handle this. I assure you, most of you would not." Smilodeus looks sternly at the class, and sheaths his wand back into the hilt of his cane. The boy falls to the ground on his hands and knees. The class gasps at the thud on the linoleum. Cainan’s kneecaps pop out of place and wriggle beneath his skin, having come alive. His hands sink into the floor covered in hot glass, stabbing and burning him, branding stigmata into his palms. "Frans, stop." Cainan barely whimpers, tears carving riverbeds into his cheeks.

Smilodeus keeps going, having either not heard the plea, or ignoring it.

"Someone with a strong constitution may be able to withstand something like this, or shake it off entirely. But the pain until then is excruciating. Any of you who know him know that Cainan isn't a good enough performer to be pretending." The class relaxes a bit at the joke, giving some levity to the situation. Perhaps it is all just for show.

"Please!" Cainan shrieks, praying on his hands and knees for his god in front of him to offer relief, reaching a shaking arm out. When Smilodeus looks at his ward begging for him through the agony, something strikes him. "I'm nearly finished. Only a moment more."

Cainan sees a sinister glint in the professor’s eyes, like striking the match that ignited this pain. Some sort of beast had awakened. Terror spurs him on to resist the spell, feeling the spiked metal wheels kick hard into his sides.

"I can't–!"

"Yes. You can." Smilodeus corrects him, voice severe. “The pain isn’t real, Cainan.”

The boy makes another attempt to push the magic from his mind. His brain swells up in his skull, pushing at the back of his eyes. The pressure strains them in their sockets but he wills them to stay in place. His stomach flips and whirls, the acrobat inducing a disorienting nausea. His intestines slither like snakes, stretching against the inside of his abdomen as they wriggle about. They bite and tear at one another. The venom stings like ice as it infects him, pumping toxic blood throughout his body. His increasingly rapid pulse pounds in his eardrums and they threaten to shatter. His heart beats against his chest, jumping around in the cavity like an excited particle, bruising and cracking his ribs. Desperately, he cries out to anyone who will listen, "HELP ME!"

Everyone in the class jolts forward. A few students get out of their seats and run towards the boy writhing in agony. Smilodeus holds up a hand, instructing them to wait, but one woman ignores him and rushes to Cainan’s side. In a singsong voice, she inspires him, “listen to me. You can break out of it. You are stronger than this.” She rests a hand on his shoulder. Her gentle touch feels like a vice grip. “Can you breathe with me? Come on. Breathe in–” She draws in a dramatic breath for Cainan to mimic. He takes a long drag from her words, filling his lungs with refreshing nicotine.

“ –and out.” She exhales a cool, gentle stream through pursed lips. Cainan exhales lungs full of water, having drowned in the pain, starving for air again. His body settles itself back into place, and his tears sting like salt again.

Smilodeus looks around at his class full of students, all watching the sequence with astonishment. Some of them stood still in mid action to the boy’s cry for help. His eyes scan the faces of his shocked pupil. He sighs, and despondently states, “class dismissed.”

Looking over to Cainan and the woman with him on the ground, Smilodeus closes the gap between them. She is searching for any sign of injury on the boy and finds none. Cainan sits back on his heels, panting. The whole ordeal only took a few moments, but the suffering lingering on Cainan’s face aged him by years. Smilodeus puts a hand on her shoulder. More gently, he goes, "I said you are dismissed." She looks up at him with worry, but notices the class had already packed up and left. To the professor, she nods at his instruction and steps out as well.

Frans kneels down in front of his ward, whose glossy eyes stare back in awe. He pulls Cainan into a hug and runs one hand delicately through the boy’s hair, which is dampened by sweat. “You did so well, Candy Cain."

Melting into the embrace, Cainan let the affirming words and rewarding touch sooth the tension lingering in his body. Finally, he pulls back and brushes off the incident, “yeah, it wasn’t so bad. Heh.”

#whump #affectionate whumper #obsessed whumpee #mind control #body horror #grooming #personal tag for full story >#EEEE #my writing

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