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Three Days Masterlist

A roughly 40k-word crack fic of Faolan from Mercury and Time being recaptured by @darkthingshappen 's Finlay Iver (original whumper). This is a collab that was originally for the @the-whumpers-soiree, but kind of evolved into its own thing.

This story contains elements of explicit noncon, references to past violent events, including noncon, torture, among other adult/dark themes. Minors DNI. Heed the warnings on each chapter.

===

Story:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 (explicit noncon)

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11 (explicit noncon)

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Taglist (below cut):

oddsconvert, sparrowsage

Written in Blood

Jonah & Vincent masterlist

When Jonah meets Vincent he is nothing but delighted - the handsome stranger takes him out on a date and even offers to help him get the job he’s always dreamt of.  But what started as a little flirt soon becomes the worst experience of Jonah’s life…

cw for the story in general: abusive relationship, creepy/intimate whumper, mentions of and actual torture, non-con touching, drugging and references to past drug abuse

Keep reading

You'll Need Your Strength

Whumping the Whumpers - Part Twenty

(tw: force-feeding, restraints, concussion, broken nose, beating, multiple whumpers, knife, creepy whumper, "good boy" used, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned whumper)

[Previous | Masterlist | Next]

Ethan nudged Elias with the toe of his shoe.

Nothing.

He sighed, pulling his foot back to kick his leg instead.

-A twitch-

One more time then,

Ethan pulled back again, punting Elias in the stomach.

His eyes flew open.

Theeeere we go.

Elias sputtered and choked, writhing back. His eyes were sparkling and prickled when they rolled up to meet Ethan’s.

Ethan smiled down at him. “Good morning sunshine. Glad to have you back.”

Elias’ trembling gave out as he clenched his fists behind his back - that probably hurt, they’d been like that 12 hours now. Nice.

Elias glared up at him.

Ethan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Save that shit for later - I brought you some food.” He held the small bowl of oatmeal up a bit lower - not that Elias could see inside. He probably didn’t want to see it anyway. It looked like shit.

Cooking aside, Ethan had just brought him food. Fucker should be grateful. Instead, Elias narrowed his eyes at Ethan.

That’s going to get old real fast, isn’t it?

“Get up.”

Elias didn’t move.

Ethan’s fingers twitched around the bowl. “You have ten seconds to get up on your knees before I put you there.”

Still didn’t move.

Fuckin- Ugh.

Screw the counting, he wasn’t going to count when Elias had no intention of complying. Ethan sank another kick into his stomach, only enjoying his sputtering for a moment before gripping his hair and wrenching him up onto his knees - so conveniently curled up under him after that kick.

Almost like he planned that. 

Elias started thrashing back, but it only settled him closer to his spot on the ground. 

Ethan kept a tight grip on his hair, twisting until Elias grunted when the bastard wouldn’t fucking hold still.

Ethan knelt in front of him, pulling his head back until he bared his teeth.

“Just hold still - be grateful I’m even feeding you.” He jerked again as Elias looked like he was working up some spit - that wouldn't be smart. Then again, Elias wasn’t the brightest knife in the shed. Fucker probably wouldn’t even know what was wrong with that sentence.

“I’d suggest you eat before I get bored. You don’t have to be well fed to bleed or scream.”

“It’s true, you really don’t,” Nate piped up. 

Elias’ eyes slid over Ethan’s shoulder - presumably to wherever Nate was lurking behind him. Ethan rolled his eyes. He glanced over his shoulder too.

“If you’re going to be here, at least be useful.”

Nate smiled. “If you want help, you’ll have to be a little more polite.”

Ethan’s hand unwound from Elias’ hair, turning to fully glare at Nate.

Nate raised his hands, laughing. “Fuck - fine - okay I’m coming.” He took his sweet time getting behind Elias, kneeling down as well and forcing his head back again. Elias damn-near squeaked that time. 

Ethan’s eyes shot to Nate’s hands, trying to figure out what he was…

Twisting- he saw the way Elias’ jaw was tipped - he’s twisting…forcing pressure down -not back, just down- on the angled vertebrate… Ethan’s lips pursed as he filed that trick away for later.

Ethan scooped up a half-spoonful of the oatmeal, holding it up to Elias.

“Open.”

Elias grit his teeth. “Fuck. Off.”

Ethan’s heart beat a little harder - hammering against his chest. It sent warm static tingling through him. 

He moved the spoon a bit closer. “Come on, you’re going to need your strength today.”

Then Elias started thrashing.

Joy.

Ethan gripped his jaw, squeezing until he wrenched it open. With Nate holding his head relatively still, Ethan scraped the spoon past his teeth and dropped most of the oatmeal inside.

He ripped the metal back out, cracking it along the teeth again because the motherfucker didn’t know how to open his mouth properly.

Ethan let go of his jaw. “There. Was that so fucking hard?”

Elias seemed to be chewin-

Nope. Spitting. It was spitting.

Ethan’s eyes dropped to the glob of chunky grey sludge on the floor - narrowly missing his leg. His gaze snapped back up to Elias. 

His tone darkened. “Alright, let’s try that again.”

Ethan started into the bow, skimming more mottled grain off the top - congealing now. His eyes dropped to the glob on the floor.

He promptly tapped the mouthful off the spoon, setting the bowl to the side and scooping the pieces off the floor instead.

He held them to Elias’ lips. “Open.”

Elias’ eyes flicked to the wet glob - shining from spit. He snarled at Ethan.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you made it gross.” Ethan gripped his jaw again, squeezing until the taught muscles gave way under his fingertips, cracking his mouth open. Elias tried to thrash, but Nate kept him still - one hand creeping around his throat. Ethan shoved the spoonful inside, clamping his jaw shut this time and holding it tight. Elias thrashed and grunted uselessly, trying to work the bite back out.

Nate’s mouth pressed behind Elias’ ear, whispering- “I’d swallow if I were you. There’s plenty of less dignified ways to force it down your throat.”

Too late, Ethan was already losing patience. He clamped his other hand down over Elias’ mouth. Unable to breathe through the broken nose, Elias started squirming almost immediately.

“Swallow and I’ll let you breathe.”

Elias was shuddering, head twitching in his attempt to throw them off of him. 

Ethan rolled his eyes. “This isn’t something you can win. Save your strength to scream nice and pretty later.”

Nate raised an eyebrow at him.

Ethan squinted back. “What?”

Nate shrugged. “Nope. Nothing. You keep doing what you’re doing.” He glanced down at Elias. “Still not budging, huh?” His hand gripped tighter around Elias’ throat, rubbing up and down.

Elias sputtered, swallowing under the sensation. 

“Aw, there you go,” Nate smirked. He pat Elias’ cheek roughly. “What a good boy.”

Ethan grimaced at Nate. “Okay, now you just made it weird.” He let up his grip, letting Elias suck in gasping breaths.

Nate ignored Elias’ noises. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was everything up until that socially acceptable?”

Elias cut in, trying to twist to look at Nate. Pissed. “Fuck- who even are you, man?”

Nate gave a polite smile that Elias could hardly see. “Friend of the family.”

“He doesn- he doesn’t have a family.”

Nate pursed his lips. “Long lost twin?”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed.

Nate tried again. “How about ‘high school crush’?” He was grinning again.

Elias just looked confused.

Ethan rolled his eyes, standing up. “Alright. I’m bored of this.” He planted a solid kick to Elias’ stomach before wandering off to set the bowl on the counter. 

Nate let go of Elias as he doubled over, coughing and wheezing at the impact. Elias looked up to Ethan, some concern breaking through the mask.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t give me that look. It’s not my fault you wanted to skip to the good part.” His fingers trailed over the rack of knives.

“Let’s get started, then.”

.

[Previous | Masterlist | Next]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @heathenwhump @paleassprince @jadeocean46910 @wormwriting @distinctlywhumpthing @whump-cafe @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @azayta @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @there-will-always-be-blood @siren-of-agony @whumpworld @bandages-andobsessions @deltaxxk @whumpasaurus101 @cryptidhongo @pickywhumpreader @cursedscribbles @thecitythatdoesntsleep)

Hiss

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Warnings: restraints; kidnapping; pet whump; blood; biting, defiant whumpee

Whumper surveyed their new pet as they knelt on the floor, their arms bound behind their back. Whumper was very pleased. This one was very….pretty. “Welcome, my pet.”

“Pet?” Whumpee tilted their head. “That’s a first.”

Whumper frowned. “Yes, pet. This may come as a–”

“Wait, like pet pet?”

Whumper took a slow breath. New pets always took training. This one was proving to be…difficult. “I am your master now. You will listen to me!”

Whumpee rolled their eyes. “Listening has never really been my thing.”

“Then you will learn,” Whumper sneered. They cast about for their crop. This one was testing their patience. 

“I’m assuming you would much rather a warm cuddly pet. Never had a dog. Mother abhorred all things with fur. The man who raised me, he had cats.” Whumpee continued to ramble on.

“What are you going on about, my pet?” Whumper asked as they snatched their riding crop from the desk.

Whumpee’s eyes grew wide as Whumper brought the crop close to Whumpee’s face. Whumper brought it under their chin, lifting it slightly. “I-I was just saying I don’t have much practice with pets.”

“Well, I can teach you, pet.” Whumper whispered. “You were around cats?”

“Sometimes. Not too often. My sister is allergic. But,” Whumpee’s blue eyes shined brightly as Whumper ran the crop down Whumpee’s body. “But I did have a pet once.”

Whumper cupped Whumpee’s face delicately, crop poised to strike if needed. “Oh? My pet had a pet? And tell me, pretty, what did you have?”

The blue eyes turned icy as Whumpee twisted in Whumper’s grasp. “Snakes.” Whumpee bit down on Whumper’s hand that cupped Whumpee’s face. Whumper howled and attempted to strike Whumpee with the crop, but Whumpee lunged forward, shifting Whumper off balance. 

The two of them fell into a heap on the ground, Whumpee thrashing violently as they continued to bite down on Whumper’s hand. Whumper’s pained shrieks drew the attention of their minions who flooded the room and one of the minions hooked two fingers in Whumpee’s nose forcing Whumpee to release Whumper. 

Whumper jumped up, snatched their crop and slapped Whumpee across the face. “That was a bad pet! How dare you bite your master!” They slapped Whumpee again. 

Icy blue eyes stared up at Whumper, defiant as ever. Whumpee licked the blood off their lips. Whumper’s blood. “Hiss hiss, motherfucker.”

Oh, Now You Want To Beg??

(Continuation)

@castielamigos-whump-side-blog Sorry it took so long to get to this continuation, but it's here now! I kinda lost all track of time. 😅

(tw: long term captivity, forced to beg, forced to watch loved one hurt, punishment, general torture mention, restraints, beating/caning, beaten until unconscious, knives, stabbing)

Continued from 'Learning to Beg'.

Whumpee’s shoulders burned. Their knuckles burned. Their jaw burned. Still, they jerked against the shackles that held them to the cement wall, screaming for Whumper to stop.

That was stupid. They were arrogant enough to try to say that wasn’t stupid. They’d lashed out. Punched Whumper square in the nose the moment they got a hand free.

Did they try to hide that they had wriggled loose from the ropes? No. Did they lie in wait to escape after Whumper had left? Also no.

Instead they were a fucking idiot and just hit Whumper at the tiniest provocation.

Well. Maybe not tiny.

Whumper had gripped them by the jaw, cooing all too sweetly, “Well don’t you look adorable tied up like that? I love seeing you so pathetic.”

Aaaaaaaaand that was it.

Plan gone.

Only brain cells for punch.

Whumpee was such a fucking idiot. And now Caretaker was paying for it. Again.

Whumper knew all too well now that the best way to hurt either of them was to hurt the other. They had long since given up on lying about that.

And now Whumpee was left, shackled and useless, watching flecks of blood spray the wall as Whumper ground the cane down on Caretaker.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Caretaker took it as best they could. They tucked into a ball to protect their head and stomach, but Whumper drove the cane down so hard that every dull ‘thnk’ was met with panting, gasping, and long, deep whines that Caretaker couldn't contain.

Whumpee tried again. “Stop! Whumper, stop! It was me. It was my fault. Hurt me!”

Whumper ignored them, continuing the thoughtless barrage. Whumpee could feel their anger seeping through the room. It leached into every stone. Every fleck of dust. Every atom in the air that Whumpee sucked in through frantic breaths. They could taste it. Feel it burning inside them.

Regret.

Fear.

Shame.

Again. The words came out shakier than Whumpee intended. “Whumper stop! You fucking bastard. Leave them alone!”

Whumper didn’t stop.

Caretaker was crying…The world was never as wrong as it was in that moment. Caretaker. Sobbing on the floor.

The image burned into Whumpee’s eyelids. No matter how they squeezed them shut, they still saw it. They could still see Caretaker twitching and wincing on the floor, matching the whimpers and small pleas. They’d never seemed this weak before.

It was wrong.

Tears were streaming down Whumpee’s face. “Whumper please. Please stop. This is my fault. This isn’t them. You’re mad at me, right?!? Hit me, not them. Please.”

To their surprise, Whumper froze. They lowered the cane, turning to glower at Whumpee. Fire still danced behind their eyes.

“Oh, NOW you want to beg? Too fucking bad.” They pointed the cane at Whumpee, emphasizing their point. “This is your fault.”

Then they turned, bringing the wood down across Caretaker’s back again.

Whumpee screamed at them. They yanked against the shackles until their skin split. They cried and begged, but it didn’t stop.

There was no stopping it.

After a while, yet not nearly long enough, Caretaker stopped moving. They stopped flinching. Stopped making sound.

Whumpee’s eyes went wide as Whumper kept beating them. Even as they went limp, rolling to the side at one of the blows.

“Please! Please, Whumper! Please, th-they can’t even feel it anymore!” They choked on tears, but swallowed it down, breath shaking. “Please - punish me. It was me. It was my fault. Please!”

Whumper - blessedly - stopped. They turned, chest heaving. Their jaw was clenched. Sweat trickled down their temple.

They glanced down at Caretaker before giving them one last, hard kick to the side that made Whumpee flinch. Whumper prowled across the room to Whumpee, chucking the cane to the side as they stepped.

Their words were low. Quiet. Far too quiet for the rage burning through them. “You’re really lucky I’m still pissed off enough to want to hear you scream.”

Whumpee squirmed under the gaze as the words sunk in.

They slipped a knife from their pocket, flicking it open. “You better say thank you before I change my mind.

Whumpee instinctively snapped their jaw shut, glaring at Whumper. They forced the defiance to crack after a quick glance at Caretaker, passed out on the hard cement. Blood spattering the ground around them.

They forced their eyes down, almost reverently, to hide the fury that built up in their chest.

They bit out the words. Painfully. “Thank you.”

Whumper acknowledged it with a hum. Then they struck.

Whumpee choked on air as the knife ripped through their flesh, scraping along their femur. White hot pain ripped through them as Whumper twisted the knife.

Whumpee gritted their teeth, squeezing their eyes shut. A scream was clawing up their throat, but they gritted their teeth against it, choking it down.

Whumper gripped them roughly by the jaw, forcing their face up. “Don’t you fucking dare. I want to hear you scream.”

Whumpee whined as their fingernails bit in.

“Don’t hold back. The moment you stop screaming, I’m carving them up instead. I don’t give a fuck if they can feel it. Got it?”

Whumpee’s eyes slid over to Caretaker again. They nodded.

“Good.” Whumper pulled the knife out. They trailed it across Whumpee’s hip, tip digging in against the bone. It split the skin.

“Scream for me.”

.

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @jadeocean46910 @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @lav-whumps @wormwriting @meowsikbox @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep )

could you do some begging whump dialogue, please

Hiya! I'd LOVE to.

I wasn’t sure on what format you want this in, so I'm going to do a scene. I 100% expect this to run away with me, so I apologize in advance for that lol.

[Edit: Yup it absolutely go out of hand lol. I hope you enjoy regardless!]

.

Learning to Beg

[tw: whipping, strangulation, blood loss]

The whip cracked hard against Whumpee's stomach. The skin split that time. They groaned, sagging against the chains that twisted their wrists high above their head. Somehow, it hurt even worse on their front. Whumper had turned them a few minutes prior, saying their back was sufficiently welted and cut. Flipped them like a fucking pancake and started working on the other side.

"Still not going to say it?" Whumper mused, coiling the whip and stepping up to Whumpee's shivering form. "I'm really not asking for much, here."

Whumpee dragged their eyes from the floor, glaring at Whumper. "I'm not begging. I'm not your fucking dog."

Whumper's eyes narrowed, curious. They gently tipped up Whumpee's chin with the coiled whip. "You sure about that?"

Whumpee managed a small, annoyed sigh even with their ribs burning in protest. "It's not going to happen. I'd die before begging you for anything, psycho."

Whumper gave a small smile. "Well considering the fact that you're still talking, I think you can take quite a bit more before you're at the breaking point. But..." They stepped away, considering.

Whumpee saw a spark light up in their eyes. That was…unsettling.

Whumper turned away, smiling. "If you're so sure you won't break, I believe you. No point in fussing with it anymore."

Whumper tossed the whip into the corner. It skittered and unraveled as it came to a rest against the wall. It left tiny streaks of blood across the ground wherever it touched. Whumpee stared at it. "Wha-what do you mean?"

Whumper headed for the door, "Just what I said. No more whip. You're clearly not going to beg for me, so I'll go work on someone who will."

Whumpee's eyes widened. Caretaker.

But they were practically still bleeding from yesterday...Whumper wouldn't.

Whumper stepped out of the room.

They would.

Whumpee pulled against the chains. Their ripped and swollen skin screamed in response, but they kept twisting and wrihting, trying to get a hand free.

Whumper returned moments later, dragging Caretaker by one arm. They could barely keep up, stumbling and dizzy from blood loss. Whumper hadn't even bothered to restrain them. Caretaker's eyes met theirs, frantic and wide for just a moment before they blinked it away. They gave Whumpee a small, reassuring smile, but their eyes couldn't quite match it.

"What are you doing? You'll kill them!" Whumpee jolted against the chains, but they still wouldn't budge. Of course they wouldn't.

Whumper grinned, pulling Caretaker in front of them to face Whumpee. "Quite possibly. They're much closer to the breaking point than you are."

Whumpee's hands itched to reach out and touch Caretaker. They were so close. Whumpee could probably kick them if they tried, but that's not exactly reassuring or helpful.

"It's okay, Whumpee. It's cool. Don't worry about me." They stood tall as soon as they found their balance, but their voice was shaking. Caretaker was always the strong one. They were never afraid. This was wrong. So so very wrong.

Whumper wriggled one arm behind Caretaker's elbows, pinning their arms back with little resistance. They grimaced as Whumper's other hand slithered up to their throat. Caretaker scoffed, "Geez, ever heard of personal space?"

Whumper ignored them, looking to Whumpee. "So, what's it gonna be?"

Whumpee pulled again against the chains, their eyes burning a hole through Whumper. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare hurt them."

Whumper smirked. Careker's eyes went wide as the hand squeezed around their neck.

"No!" Whumpee tried to control their breathing. Tried to not look panicked. "Don't. Leave them out of this! You've done enough!"

Whumper laughed in response. Caretaker started to writhe. Their face was turning red already. "Apparently I haven't." They squeezed tighter, and Caretaker started to panic. They struggled and twisted, but Whumper held them still with little effort.

Whumpee stared, desperate to move, to help, to do anything. All they could do was pull against their bruised wrists more.

"Oh, now this is fun," Whumper chuckled. "Again, I'm not asking for much. I just want you to beg a little."

Whumpee's head spun as Caretaker choked and hissed. Their eyes were starting to lose focus. So fast. Way too fast. Caretaker wasn't in any state to handle this shit.

"Okay! Fine!"Whumpee sputtered. "Please! Please jut let them go."

Whumper smiled at that. “Hmm…” Their hand didn't move. "I don't think that's good enough."

"Wh-what!?" Caretaker's struggling was starting to slow, their jerks were turning into lethargic writhing. Whumpee growled, "What do you mean not good enough!"

"Well, you refused to beg me to stop hurting you before, so I think now you should beg me to hurt you instead of them. I think that would even the scores, don't you?"

"Fuck you."

Whumper smiled in response, their fingers not loosening even a little as Caretaker sagged against them. Whumpee panicked. "Come on, let go. They're passing out, you're going to fucking kill them if you don't let go!"

Whumper clicked their tongue. "Those aren't the words I wanted to hear," they chastised.

Caretaker's eyes went dark as they stumbled down, held up only by Whumper's grip. Whumper was really willing to let Caretaker die. Inches in front of them.

"Okay fine! Please, let them go. Hurt me instead. Whip me. Make me scream - whatever you want. Just let them go, I'm begging you!"

Whumper smirked. "Good timing, I could feel their pulse slipping." Caretaker crumpled to the ground as Whumper stepped back.

They weren't moving.

Fuck they weren't breathing. Whumpee stopped breathing too.

Whumpee looked frantically between Caretaker's crumpled form and Whumper, who was also staring at Caretaker.

Whumper raised their eyebrows at Caretaker, expectant.

Nothing. They checked their watch. Whumpee jerked against the chains uselessly.

Whumper gave Caretaker a swift kick.

Caretaker gasped to life as the boot collided with their spine.

"Ah. There we go."

Whumper stepped over them, heading toward the discarded whip. Caretaker rolled onto their stomach, coughing and sputtering, gasping for air.

Whumpee took in a deep, shaky breath. They were okay. It was fine. Everything was fine. For now.

Whumpee chanced a whisper. They could hardly breathe. "You good?"

Caretaker coughed again and rolled onto their back. "Yeah. Peachy." their voice was horse. Barely functional. More a whisper than anything.

"I'm so sorry."

Caretaker tried to clear their throat, choking on the sound. They managed an amused smile, their eyes still unfocused. "Don't be. You know I'm into the choking thing."

Whumpee couldn't bring themselves to laugh when Caretaker was panting on the ground.

Whumper returned with the whip, gripping Caretaker by the arm and dragging them over to the other side of the room. Caretaker didn't even try to fight, they just sagged against the wall, coughing, as Whumper sauntered up to Whumpee.

They reverently draped the whip over Whumpee's neck like they were presenting them with a medal. The cold, wet blood ticked against their bare skin. "Well done. That was very nice." Whumper tipped their chin up with a finger. "Now you're going to beg me to hurt you. Then when you can't take anymore, you're going to beg me to stop."

Whumpee glared at them. "I already fucking begged, we're done."

Whumper smiled. "Have it your way, but if you pass out without begging, I'm going to turn the whip onto Caretaker instead until you wake back up." They glanced at Caretaker who was barely sitting up straight in the corner. "Hopefully you snap out of it before they lose any more blood - I won't stop if they pass out."

Whumpee sputtered. "But I already...but you said-"

"What I said is that I wanted you to beg. And that's what you're going to do."

.

(tags: @whumpawink, @prisonerwhump, @mabledonut)

Hostage Situation

(tw: gun, death threat, brief gore mention, restraint, forced to hurt (restrain others), hostage whump)

“You.” Whumper gestures toward Whumpee with the barrel of their gun.

Whumpee glances over their shoulder at the other hostages.

“Yes you, idiot. Stand up.”

Whumpee keeps their hands raised as they take a shaky step forward.

Whumper tosses a package of zip ties at them. Whumpee catches it clumsily, almost dropping it with shaking fingers.

“Tie them all up.”

Whumpee’s eyes meet Caretakers. They give Whumpee an encouraging nod. Whumpee glances down at the plastic. They know Caretaker’s training is their best chance of getting out of here. Can they really doom everyone in here by restraining them?

Whumper cuts off their thoughts. “Make em tight - fuck it up and I’m blowing your brains across the wall.”

Whumpee flinches back, but takes one out of the package.

Whumpee tries to be sneaky. They loop the zip tie over Caretaker’s thumb before tightening it down over the visible wrist.

A gun clicks against the back of Whumpee’s head.

Whumper voice is soft in their ear. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Whumpee trembles “J-j-just what y-ou sai-”

“Fix it.”

Whumpee trembles, reluctantly pulling out another zip tie, puting it around Caretaker’s wrists. They cinch it tight with sweating fingers.

“Tighter”

“But it’s-”

“Tighter”

Whumpee flinches back, but snugs the zip tie tighter yet.

“More.”

Whumpee turns to them. “I can’t any more - it’s-”

“For fucks sake.” Whumper reaches around them, jerking the tail up and down until Caretaker hisses at the pain. It’s digging deep into the skin now.

Whumpee whispers harshly against their ear. “If you can’t learn to follow orders real fast, I’m not going to have a use for you.” The barrel grinds against their skull, bowing their head forward. “And guess what happens when I don’t have a use for you?”

Whumpee shivers, swallowing thickly. “I-I’ll be good. I can - I. I won’t do it again.”

“Good.” The barrel eases slightly. “Now keep going.”

.

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @jadeocean46910 @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @lav-whumps @wormwriting @meowsikbox @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep )

Whumptober 12 - Torture | made to watch | begging

Combining with prompts from nsfwhumtober set 2 - Biting | bruises | toys | gagging

So yeah I chose a lot of prompts lol. This is where I fall off the time schedule because I write super slow. I'm not totally happy with how this turned out, but I think it's still pretty good.

CW: noncon, captivity, manhandling, broken nose, knife mention, blood mention, guns, muzzles, violence, intimate whumper, gagged, restraints, slut-shaming terms

Whumpee can't bear to look at his teammates when Whumper and his guards enter the cell. He feels his stomach twisting in knots and tumbling like a washing machine with a heavy load.

"Glad to see everyone's together," Whumper smiles. His guards assume position across from the four of them on the opposite wall. They keep still faces, it almost seems like they're not even looking at anything. The extra guards take place on the adjacent walls, guns at the ready.

Whumpee feels sick. A simple in-and-out mission should never have ended like this. They had even finished and were just making it out when they were ambushed, and even though it was nobody's fault over anyone else's, Whumpee wished he had just been caught alone.

"Screw off," Medic spits, pulling against the chain connecting his cuffs to the wall. Whumpee glances at him, then back at the guns the guards hold. He doesn't think it's a good idea to piss them or Whumper off, but the room already feels tense enough, so he doesn't say anything.

"What do you want from us?" Leader growls, a defiant glare being the only emotion he shows.

Teammate wears a stoic straight face. Whumpee tries to follow her route, but he ends up looking more spacey and scared.

Whumper barely acknowledges Leader's words with a chuckle, slowly scanning the four chained adversaries in front of him. After a few seconds, he locks eyes with Whumpee, who tries not to shrink away from the icy stare. He can't help the way he is shaking though, and Whumper notices too.

He stalks toward Whumpee, whose eyes widen. The click of his boots match Whumpee's quickening heartbeat.

When Whumper unlinks the chain connecting the shackles to the wall, Leader narrows his eyes, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Y'know, I've been feeling really pent up lately…" Whumper says, staring straight into Leader's eyes as he drags Whumpee's stunned silent form to the middle of the room, "And I'm in for a much needed… release. He's quite the eye-catcher, right?"

"Fucking creep," Medic accosts through grit teeth.

"Don't you fucking touch him," Leader joins, jerking his left side against the restraints. Whumper smiles at him, producing a knife from his pocket; only then does Whumpee snap back to reality and begin to struggle.

"Oh, I'm gonna do more than just that Leader. A pretty thing like this deserves some recognition," Whumper says. Whumpee stumbles back, tripping over his own feet as Whumper reaches for him, the hand landing on his shirt and tearing it as he crashes to the floor.

Whumper keeps going, dropping down to straddle him. He grabs the front of Whumpee's uniform pants and tugs down the zipper, unhooking his own belt after.

At this, the rest of the room catches what he means.

"No no no no, please don't," Whumpee whimpers, fighting desperately to get away, but his hands are restrained and trapped underneath him. Whumper uses the knife to cut the rest of his shirt open.

"Get the hell off him! I'll fucking kill you!" Leader yells, pulling furiously at the chains. He couldn't bear to let this happen. Medic paled, mouth agape, and he struggled harder too. Teammate stared ahead with wide, worried eyes, not knowing what to do.

Whumper slides his hands over Whumpee's exposed chest, leaning down and biting his neck.

"Stop. No, noo!" Whumpee cries.

"Bastard! Listen to me!" Leader shouts desperately, attempting to stand and pulling the shackles. Spittle flies from his mouth. He looks sort of like a rabid animal captured by hunters.

"Oh come on Leader, don't tell me you haven't thought about this, hmm?" Whumper taunts, continuing to hold down the struggling, pleading Whumpee, "I know I have."

"You motherfucker! Whumper. I swear to god if I get my hands on you-"

"Take care of him please," Whumper says with a wave of his hand, returning to remove Whumpee's pants. Immediately two of the guards stomp forward to the fighting man.

One of them pulls their rifle and slams the butt of it against Leader's face. Whumpee screams at the sickening crack that sounds.

"Stop! Please!" Teammates voice sounds.

The other guard grabs Leader by the shoulder and wrestles him to the floor on his stomach. The first guard puts a knee to his back and pulls something over his face, quieting his cursing and threats when they force a bit in his mouth and surround the bottom of his face in tight leather. Blood spills from Leader's nose and tracks over and under the muzzle.

The guard stands up, replacing their knee with a heavy boot between Leader's shoulder blades, pushing Leader's face flush to the cold concrete floor by placing the barrel of their rifle into his temple. When Leader growls the guard only pushes it in more.

"There we go, good to watch now... Back to you sweet thing." Whumper coos, unbuckling his own pants.

"Please, please don't do this," Whumpee begs. He is ignored though, and two fingers are shoved into his mouth, so far at first, he gags on them. His reflexes kick in though, and he bites down hard on the intrusion.

Whumper grunts in pain and tries to yank his hand out, but Whumpee doesn't let go, he bites down harder, tasting blood in his mouth. Only when Whumper backhands him hard does he let go.

"You little shit!" Whumper growls, making another hand motion to a guard.

"Whumper! Fucking stop! I- take me instead you asshole!” Medic yells, tugging the restraints, replacing Leaders spot annoying Whumper. Another guard aims his gun at him, barking to ‘shut up.’

Whumper leans closer to Whumpee’s face, grabbing something from the guard next to him. He nips at Whumpee's ear, blowing hot breath when he whispers, "That wasn't nice Whumpee… We can't have you biting now. As much as I love the struggle, you're going to make this easy for me and open your mouth. If not, I'll have my men fill your friends with lead, understand?"

And Whumpee, without option, opens his mouth, tears rolling down his face. He doesn't know if he'd rather look at his teammates with guns to their heads as they watch this happen to him, or at Whumper's eyes, filled with lust and malice.

His teammates watch as Whumper forces a toy into Whumpee's mouth, strapping it around his face to gag him.

"Since you don't want prep, little slut," Whumper huffs, forcing Whumpee's head back.

They watch as he grabs Whumpee's hips tight and pushes himself in. They watch as he rocks him hard into the ground. They watch as tears spill from Whumpee's eyes and listen as tortured screams come muffled from his mouth.

And they do nothing. They can't do anything but watch. It feels like hours until Whumper finally gets his fill. Leader is seething with silent anger underneath the guard's boots. He wants to strangle Whumper until he can no longer make the disgusting grunts and moans he's making now. He feels like he failed Whumpee, and it aches in him more than his now broken nose does.

Whumper releases into Whumpee with a shuddering moan and a kiss pushed into his neck. It ends in teeth and surely a bruise later. When Whumper removes himself, Whumpee feels like he pulls his soul out with him.

"You're a good fuck Whumpee, I'll have to come back," Whumper says as he buckles his belt. Whumpee just squeezes his eyes shut and whimpers.

His guards slowly file out of the room, and Whumper waits, staring into Leader's eyes as he slides his belt back through the loops of his pants.

"I hope you enjoyed the show," He says with a smirk on his face. The last two guards pointing guns at them start to move away. Leader makes one last attempt at jerking the chains, a low growl in his throat. Whumper just laughs and exits last, shutting the metal door behind him with a loud bang that resounds through the room.

Whumpee stares at the ceiling, then turns toward the wall. He cants bear to look at his team. He sobs through the gag still on his face, the stupid dildo gag the creep has forced on him. He can't get the image of Whumper's cold eyes above him, the feeling of his hands digging into his hips. He can tell the skin there will bruise. If he lets his mind wander enough, it feels like he is still inside him.

He feels embarrassed that they watched that happen. He feels like he can't curl into himself enough to stop feeling so exposed. He feels like their eyes are burning into the back of his head, judging him.

"...Whumpee?" Teammate calls. Whumpee doesn't speak, but he tries to quiet his crying, thinking maybe he's annoying them.

"Do you wanna, uhm… come over here?" She continues after the lack of response, voice sounding strangled.

Whumpee, despite his shame, turns himself over to face them. He notices her face streaked with tears and runny makeup, and after a quick glance, the other two are the same.

He struggles to crawl over to them, but manages to after a few minutes. When he reaches her, he collapses in her lap, the sobs coming back full force. She can't help but cry too, and she cranes her arms as far as she can to one side of her back, just barely able to reach his head to card through his hair softly with one hand. Though it's an uncomfortable position, she does it to hopefully make him feel a tiny bit better, like how she does to help him fall asleep.

"I'm sorry Whumpee, I'm so sorry he did that to you.” Her voice breaks as she talks; she wishes she could do more, they all do.

“Fuck! F-fuck. I-- I’ll kill that monster…” Medic mumbles, staring off toward the wall.

Leader gets himself up from his stomach, slowly as to not fall over without his arms. When he's upright, he taps the floor until he gets Whumpee’s attention. He stares into Whumpee's eyes as he attempts to make the clearest sentence possible through the muzzle still wrapped around his bloodied face, the skin on his cheekbone red and enflamed from the hit earlier.

Through the communication barrier they share, Whumpee manages to make out that he is saying he’s sorry, but not in the way that Teammate did. He sounds and looks more like he thinks he should've been able to stop this from happening. As much as Whumpee wished it didn't happen, he knows it was nobody's fault… nobody but Whumper's.

Since Whumpee can't talk either, he tries to show his thoughts the best way he can think of. He climbs into Leader's lap and buries his face into Leader's chest, hating the way Whumper has made him feel, but hoping to show Leader that he did all he could. Leader tries to ignore the hickeys on Whumpee's neck and rests his chin on the top of Whumpee's head.

Then, they are left, dread pooling in their stomachs as they wait for the next time Whumper comes back, knowing that there's nothing they can do.

It is clear to this anon that you like collar whump. Thus I humbly ask for it to happen to any of your characters, no preference who, I just wanna see it.

BLESS YOU ANON

I decided to use my Bad Caretaker series OCs :>

—

“Hey, Tobias, can I see you for a minute?”

Tobias stiffened at Isaac’s voice, glancing nervously up to where he’d poked his head into the room. He looked almost unconsciously towards Michael and Jacob, who were quietly discussing strategy over a game of chess. Michael made brief eye contact, a curious look in his eyes, but he turned back to the game.

“Sure,” Tobias said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. It still did, though, a little.

Tobias’ heart rattled in his chest as he followed Isaac back to the room. Isaac wasn’t looking at him, which meant he couldn’t gage whether he was angry or happy. Or excited. That was worse.

Isaac held the door open for him, hand brushing his back in a way that made Tobias flinch. When the door closed behind him, Tobias turned around to see Isaac smiling. His heart fell to the floorboards.

“You’re so cute when you’re panicking,” Isaac grinned, eyes flicking over Tobias’ trembling form.

Tobias ground his teeth. “Don’t call me that.”

Isaac stepped closer, watching the way he stiffened, eyes falling to the floor and turning distant. “How do you expect me to help myself, when you look like that, love?”

His breath hitched. “Stop.”

Isaac caught Tobias’ chin in his hand, tilting it up to see his face. “You know, I really don’t think I will.” He let go of him and stepped back. “On your knees, Toby. I have a surprise for you.”

With a shaky breath, the boy lowered himself to the floor, watching Isaac with big, scared eyes. “Isaac--”

He shushed him, turning to grab a bag from a drawer. Tobias watched it carefully, and Isaac rattled the bag with a teasing grin when he noticed. “What do you think it is, Toby?”

Tobias just shook his head in mute fear.

Isaac walked towards him again, running a hand through Tobias’ hair and forcing his head back before crouching down to be level with him. He set down the bag and placed his other hand over the boy's throat, just tight enough to make him feel claustrophobic.

“Your pulse is racing.” His lips curved into a devilish smile. “Take some deep breaths for me, Toby. I wouldn’t want you having a panic attack.” Isaac waited a moment while Tobias obeyed, then slowly, slowly squeezed his hand tighter.

Tobias jerked against him, but Isaac used the hand in his hair to press him back against the wall, climbing over his legs to straddle him when he tried to buck him off. Tobias’ mouth hung open in a desperate need for air, and it just made Isaac cinch his hand tighter at the sight.

“Relax. I’m not going to let you pass out,” Isaac murmured, holding his hands there for a slow count of three more seconds before finally releasing him.

Tobias choked on air, coughing and slumping forward into Isaac's chest as he tried to take in enough air to make the world stop spinning. Isaac wrapped his arms around his shaking shoulders, weaving fingers loosely through his hair. Tobias struggled weakly, trying to push away.

Isaac relented, pressing him against the wall while he reached for the bag. “You’ll have to wear a turtleneck for a few days. That’s going to bruise.”

Tobias’ throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“Do you want your surprise now, Toby?” Isaac grinned, not waiting for a response as he pulled out a leather collar with a neat buckle in the front.

Tobias jerked away in horror. “No.”

Isaac just leaned closer, emphasizing how trapped Tobias truly was. “You know I don’t like that answer, Toby. Now be good and let me put this on you.”

Tobias stared at him with glassy eyes before lowering his hands to his lap, clenched into fists. Isaac muttered “good boy” and slid it around his neck, buckling it tightly in the front so it was flush with his skin, restricting every breath ever so slightly.

“I knew you’d look good like this.” Isaac took the boy’s face in his hands and turned it gently from side to side, admiring the placement of the collar. “You’re perfect, little Toby.”

His lip trembled. “I don’t want to be,” he breathed, just barely loud enough to hear.

Isaac laughed, cinching a finger underneath the collar and watching as he struggled to breathe. “I think we both know that what you want doesn’t matter anymore.”

Climbing off of him, Isaac retrieved a leash from the bag and waggled it menacingly, drinking it Tobias’ reaction. The poor boy was pressed as close to the wall as he could make himself, shoulders heaving as he tried to breathe through the panic. His eyes were wide and glassy, horrified.

“Isaac, don’t—”

Isaac took a step towards him, feeling a thrill of pleasure when that was enough to make Tobias fall silent, helpless tears gathering in his eyes. Isaac clipped the leash onto the collar’s ring. He tugged against it, pulling the leather taut and forcing Tobias to fall to his hand and knees.

“Look at you, Toby. A perfect little pet for me.” Isaac held the leash tightly so Tobias had no chance to pull away.

“I’m not,” he said through gritted teeth, but Isaac ignored him, kneeling down to grab his jaw.

“Do you know how much I wish I could just keep you like this? If I had it my way, I’d never let you out. You’d be chained and collared at my side, crying those pretty tears for me forever. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Tobias sobbed into Isaac’s hand, and Isaac sighed happily. “I want you to see yourself, like this. How much you were meant for this.”

Standing up, Isaac pulled him forward, dragging him across the floor to a full-length mirror that was propped against the wall. He grabbed a handful of Tobias’ hair, wrenching his head up to face himself in the mirror. Isaac crouched next to him, pressing his face into the boy’s hair.

“See how good you look like this?” He muttered, feeling how Tobias quailed against him. The boy’s eyes were fixed on the mirror, tears rolling down his cheeks. He seemed frozen, unable to look away. “Can you really blame me for doing this? This is what you were made for, Toby.”

He sobbed, eyes falling closed as more tears soaked his face.

“Let’s see how a week of wearing that collar breaks you down,” Isaac said, running a hand over the smooth leather pulled tight around the boy’s neck. “And remember, no one else can see you like this. You’re mine.”

—

Bad Caretaker series taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed): @ros-is-writing @sunflower1000 @temporary-whump-sideblog @hurting-fictional-people @madrono-but-i-am-not-a-fruit @cupcakes-and-pain @sideblogformindtrash @starnight-whump @trans-writes @freefallingup13 @chartreusephoenix @multifandoms-multishipper @firewheeesky @lave-whump @misspelledwitch @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @journey-the-panda @shameful-indulgence @briars7 @sometouchofmadness @stab-the-son-of-a

What about a whumper that has to leave whumpee alone for a long time but wants to make sure whumpee doesn’t forget them while they’re gone. Maybe they leave them tied in a vulnerable position or maybe with a special toy 🤫

Once again, how horrible:)))

CWs: pet whump, sex toys (noncon, 18+ Only, minors + irl (nonfictional) nsfw blogs DNI!), possessive whumper, creepy/intimate whumper, whumper's POV

"Y—you can't."

Whumper smiles. They don't pause as they string their favorite little pet up, tightening the ropes until they won't be able to move an inch.

Their favorite phrase, really...because then they can show just how much they can.

"I'm sorry, pet," they murmur, stroking down the poor thing's tear-stained face. "I know you'll miss me. But it's just today...and I'll be home tonight."

Whumpee whimpers, tugging at the restraints. They wriggle, uncomfortably, legs spread against their will (as usual), and Whumper watches. Loves to watch, always.

"That's...that's...h-hours, what...what if I need to—"

Whumper presses their finger over Whumpee's lips. Silences them, as they should be.

"You don't need anything until I tell you you do," they say. "Not a thing. Isn't that right?"

Hesitantly, Whumpee nods. "Y-yes...Master."

Whumper feels a thrill of pleasure through them, leaning to kiss their pet gently. "Good. Very good. And you know what...you are right. What if you do need? That little hole of yours always needs something. I shouldn't leave it empty."

"No—" Whumpee mumbles, shaking their head, but Whumper's already in motion, reaching over to the drawer beside their bed and rummaging through it before they pull out something that makes Whumpee sob.

"I just don't know how far the remote control will be able to reach it," Whumper says, frowning, and then shrugs. "I'm sure you'll tell me all about it tonight."

Whumpee cries out, but even as they try to squirm they're kept in place as Whumper preps them and then gently slides the toy inside. Tests it once, and watches Whumpee whine and shiver beautifully. Keeps it going just long enough that their pet is about to fall over the edge, and then stops it.

"I'll take care of you so well tonight," Whumper says, kissing over them, loving the way their chest heaves under their lips. The way their body craves more, even if their pretty mouth protests. "I'll see you soon."

They fasten a gag around Whumpee's mouth—"I don't want you screaming anything that isn't just for me."— and then they're gone.

Whumpee's sob turns into a cry of pleasure as Whumper clicks the remote again, off and on, higher and lower, all the way down the street until the thing beeps and loses contact.

Disappointing, but not a real problem. It's still inside them, and they still know exactly who put it there, who they belong to, and who owns them.

And they'll take care of their precious Whumpee properly tonight, like they always do.

Lab Rats

I’ve had these characters in my mind for a while now, and I actually have a good idea of where this is going for once. So meet Noah, my OC who I plan on torturing loving a lot. 

CW: forced stripping and noncon touching (neither of them sexual), lab whump (not really, but that’s the vibe), manhandling

There was something wrong. 

Noah didn’t know what, or why, but he could feel it. It was a sharp tug in the pit of his stomach, the imaginary feel of cold fingers trailing down his spine, a want to hide, go back, give up. 

Maybe it was just anxiety for being in a new place, taking a chance he wasn’t expecting until a few days before. Maybe it was just him overacting to the change of scenario, the coldness of the too-white building, the grim vibe a lab usually had. His instincts were rarely on point anyway, usually so mixed with fear and reluctance that he didn’t know how to separate the instinct from the unease. 

So he kept walking, even though something urged him to go back.

Keep reading

This is more inspo from my disaster character, Arvin, than anything (I really put him through the ringer whenever I draw/write him), but I was wondering if you could possibly write a small blurb about a creepy/intimate Whumper with a heavily defiant, and stubborn Whumpee? Bonus points if a bed is involved.

(tw: tied to a bed, biting, muzzles, intimate whumper)

Whumpee glared at Whumper while they tugged at the restraints keeping them tied to the headboard, feeling like they were being burned alive under Whumper’s unforgiving gaze.

“Would you cut that out?” They snapped, tugging especially hard on the restraints. “You’re creeping me out. Stop staring at me, you freak.”

Whumper’s smile grew as they leaned on the doorframe, taking in Whumpee’s every move. “Nah.” They moved away from the doorframe and started walking to the bed. “You’re too fun to watch.”

Whumpee pushed themselves back as far as they could go, growling and trying to bite the hand that approached their jaw. Whumper took their hand away quickly, grinning. “Feisty,” they murmured, amused.

“Come any closer and I’ll bite your damn finger off,” Whumpee spat. They despised the restraints that were holding them back. It was the only thing keeping them from going all out on Whumper.

Whumper only chuckled and knelt down, searching around under the bed. “I’d love to see you try, my dear.”

Whumpee thrashed even more when they saw the muzzle in Whumper’s hand when they returned. “No! NO! Get that the fuck away from me!”

Whumper had to tackle Whumpee down to be able to secure the muzzle. They got bitten a few times in the process, earning Whumpee a swift backhand each time. Once the muzzle was fully secured, Whumper brushed their victim’s hair out of their face and admired the rage in their eyes.

“There we are. Beautiful.”

whumper 4 & whumpee 14 maybe? :)

Whumper 4: “Let's see what's more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?” / Whumpee 14: “I'll do anything!”

Okay so I'm trying to do some different things with these prompts, so here, have some team whump for once. And a defiant whumpee because I realized I go for quiet ones way too often 🙃 Anyways, I hope you like it Anon <3

-

It’s Whumpee’s fault that they were captured. If Whumpee had been a little faster, a little smarter, Whumper wouldn’t have reached them. If they hadn’t been caught with a blade against their neck, their team wouldn’t have been forced to let go of their weapons and let themselves be captured to save Whumpee’s life.

It is Whumpee’s fault, even if no one dares recognize it. Maybe it’s because they are the youngest member, the one the rest of the team sees as their younger sibling. But the lack of blame on their part does nothing to alleviate the knowledge – if it weren’t for Whumpee, the whole team wouldn’t be locked in a cell right now, hands shackled in front of them and the heaviness of anticipation in the air.

When the door opens, all four of them get up in unison. A true team, Whumpee thinks with a lump in their throat. A true family. One they might’ve ruined.

“So, I see you are all settled in,” Whumper smirks, walking inside with a line of guards close behind. “Have my men been treating you well?”

“Oh yes, feels like a much-needed vacation,” Whumpee replies dryly.

Leader shoots them a warning glance, but all Whumpee can think about is their family’s wrists surrounded by metal because of their failure.

Whumper raises their brows, utterly unimpressed, and looks around the room, eyes wandering through all of them.

“Tell me Whumper, how long did you spend planning this? Did you dream about the moment you’d catch us so you wouldn’t be so alone anymore?” Whumpee smiles, and then wider when Whumper’s eyes slide from Caretaker to them. “I bet it’s awfully lonely here. I mean, who would put up with you? So, my question is: is all of this just so you can have at least a little bit of company you didn’t pay for?” they continue, gesturing at the guards standing against the wall.

The smile on Whumper’s lips doesn’t move, but their eyes grow darker at each word that leaves Whumpee’s lips.

“Whumpee, shut up,” Leader says through gritted teeth.

“But I didn’t finish,” they pout, tipping their head and flashing Whumper a grin. “I was just about to give Whumper some tips. You know, if you want to seem intimidating, you have to work on your tactics sweetie, because right now all you look is pitiful. I’d say you could–”

“Say one more word, sweetie, and I’ll make you pay for each of them with blood,” Whumper says, any trace of a smile gone.

Whumpee only blinks innocently.

“See, this is what I mean, you have to up your captor game, Whumper, you look like–”

“Please excuse them, Whumpee doesn’t know what they are talking about,” Caretaker cuts in, wide eyes locked on Whumper’s. “They do that when they are scared, they don’t mean it. Just tell us what you want for our freedom.”

“What? I am not scared, I'm biting my tongue trying not to laugh–”

“Whumpee stop,” Healer says from their side. It’s barely a whisper, but it carries all of their fear, and Whumpee feels it like a punch to their gut. Their fault. That fear is their fault.

“As I was saying, you look pathetic Whumper, and–”

A hand around their throat stops them this time, pushing them back against the wall with a loud thud. Whumper looks down at Whumpee as they squeeze, only tight enough for Whumpee to know who’s in control.

The team loses it. Three screams sound at the same time and through the corner of their eyes, Whumpee sees Leader, Caretaker, and Healer throwing themselves forward, only to be held back by the waiting guards.

“Go on Whumpee. Tell me all about how pathetic I am.”

They open their mouth, but only a breathless gasp leaves their lips. Whumper smirks.

“Not so funny anymore, huh?”

They open their mouth again, and this time, Whumpee spits right at Whumper’s face – saliva hits and stays on their nose. Whumpee smirks back.

Whumper blinks once before letting Whumpee fall to the ground clutching their throat and fighting for air. They look up just in time to see Whumper wiping the spit away.

“Please, they don’t know what they are doing!” Caretaker shouts, thrashing against the two guards that hold their arms.

With a wave of their hand, Whumper sends one of their guards to grab Whumpee by the arms and pull them up, shoving them toward the door when they don’t resist.

“Whumper! If you want to hurt one of us, take me. Torture me if you will, I won’t fight,” Leader says in a calm voice that barely betrays the fear underneath the words. Whumpee can still see the stiffness on their shoulders and the clenching of their jaw, though. Whumper can too.

“We’ll give you what you want, just don’t touch them,” Healer tries.

Whumper simply turns to the door.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give them back to you,” Whumper says over their shoulder. “As soon as I’ve taught them a lesson or two on how to treat their betters.”

Whumpee doesn’t look back when their team shouts threats and pleads behind them. The mere idea of how much despair must be etched on each of their faces is enough for Whumpee to feel tears pricking their eyes. They are the reason their team was captured, Whumpee tells themself as they hear the door lock behind their back. It is only fair for Whumpee to be the one to hurt.

They aren’t taken far. A door right beside the cell is opened for them, and all Whumpee does when they are pushed inside is suck in a sharp breath and square their shoulders.

“Where are all the jokes now, Whumpee?” Whumper enters the room right behind them and flips the light switch.

The room isn’t big – it’s about the same size as the cell. The only addition to the new one is a small cabinet on the side and a mirrored wall. Whumpee doesn’t dare look at the stains on the floor that look disturbingly like dry blood.

The guard places Whumpee in front of the mirror, and there they stay.

“Jokes?” they repeat, mock shock lacing the words, “I was trying to help you be a better bad guy and you call it jokes? This is exactly why you look like such a–”

“Say one more word, and I’ll have my men bring Caretaker here instead of you.”

The words die on their tongue, swallowed along with the bitterness of fear.

“Ah. I thought that might be it,” Whumper nods, pacing around the room. “You got them captured and now you want to make up for it, huh?”

“And then people say I’m the one who can’t stop talking,” Whumpee rolls their eyes, trying to ignore the squeeze in their heart.

“Do you see that mirror behind me, Whumpee?” They do. It’s the one right in front of them, of course they do. “That is a one-way glass. Do you know what that means?”

“My team is watching this,” they breathe, looking at the mirror for the first time. Only their wide eyes look back.

“Yes. Pity we can’t hear them,” Whumper takes a step closer, stopping right in front of Whumpee. “Because I bet they’ll scream beautifully when I do this,” they say as their closed fist flies into Whumpee’s stomach, making them gasp and double over in pain.

Whumper chuckles and steps away as Whumpee holds back a moan and leans against the wall to keep standing.

“Now, what are we going to do about all those insults?” Whumper muses, crossing their arms and staring at Whumpee as they fight to breathe.

“How about you let my team fucking go and then–“

“Did I allow you to talk, Whumpee?”

Whumpee looks up and bares their teeth. “I don’t need your permission to fucking talk, you fucking creep.”

“Alright, I know where to start. Whumpee, kneel.”

They only laugh. A genuine laugh, that shakes their shoulders and shoos fear away for the time it lasts. “Yeah, right.”

“You can kneel, or I can whip you until you can’t stand anymore. It’s your choice,” Whumper says.

“And you can kiss my ass. That’s all the choices I’m giving you though,” Whumpee smirks, straightening up.

Their captor sighs, but instead of keeping their promise, they tip their head to the side and smile back.

“Let me rephrase this. Whumpee, kneel, or I can whip Caretaker until they can’t stand anymore. And then I will whip Leader. And sweet Healer last, just so I can hear their lovely screams while the others have their backs ruined.”

The sound of Whumpee’s knees hitting the floor echoes around the room, but it doesn’t hurt as much as the idea of their team being hurt in their place. Neither does Whumper’s laugh.

They only watch as Whumper goes to the cabinet and takes something from the drawer. Something made of leather.

“Put it on,” Whumper says, handing it to Whumpee. They laugh when they look at it, but this time there’s only incredulity in the sound.

“You want me to put on a muzzle?”

Whumper raises their eyebrows.

“No fucking way,” Whumpee says, throwing the thing on the floor.

“Did you know that I can have the air passages to your team’s cell closed, Whumpee?” Whumper looks back over their shoulder at the mirror. As if Whumpee could forget that their family is watching this. As if they could ignore the despair they know they are all feeling. “How long do you think it’ll take until they pass out? How long until the air goes out completely and they start convulsing on the floor, fighting for one last breath that you didn’t allow them to take?”

Tears sting their eyes, and though Whumpee fights them, they can’t help the shiver that runs down their spine.

“I bet they would forgive you. They don’t even blame you for getting caught, do they? But you and I both know that all of this is your fault. You already took their liberty, will you take their lives now too? In the name of what, dignity?”

Whumpee looks down at the muzzle, thrown between Whumper’s feet and their knees. Pictures themself putting it on. They feel sick.

“Guards!” Whumper calls, and pure dread fills Whumpee’s veins.

Whumpee reaches for the muzzle. It feels cold in their hands, but the fear feels even colder when they look up at the mirror, watching themself kneeling on the floor, holding the muzzle in their shackled hands. What is their team thinking? Are they screaming and fighting to get to them? Are they watching in silent horror?

“Let’s see what’s more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?” Whumper’s eyes are locked on Whumpee’s when they look up.

“If I do this, will you promise me you won’t hurt them?”

“Oh no, I’m not promising you anything, dear. Where did that idea come from? You insulted me in front of my men and my prisoners. Every time you open your mouth I debate cutting your tongue off. Why would I make you any promises?”

“Why would I do this if you'll hurt them anyway?” Whumpee snarls, clasping the leather and clenching their jaw.

“Guards, cut the team’s air off,” Whumper commands, eyes still boring into Whumpee’s with disturbing intensity. Drinking in their panic.

“Wait–”

“On second thought, bring me Caretaker first. I want to see this one scream for their family before they are all dead.”

“Whumper, I’ll–”

“Bring the whip along with them. We’ll have some fun.”

“Whumper, please–”

“What are their lives worth to you, Whumpee? Really? What would you do to save them? Because it sounds to me like you wouldn’t so much as put on a muzzle, so please tell me, what would you do for them?”

“I’ll do anything!” Whumpee yells, choking on the images Whumper painted so, so terribly vividly. On guilt. On love. “I’ll do anything, just don’t fucking touch them.”

“Well, then why am I still hearing your voice?” Whumper croons, nodding at their hands. Though Whumpee can see the amusement in their eyes, all they think about is their team’s screams when they were taken from the cell as they raise the muzzle to their face. With their family's voices sounding in their mind, echoing with each beat of their heart, they find that it isn't hard to do it at all.

It’s with Caretaker’s soft murmurs when Whumpee has trouble falling asleep in their ears that they bite on the bit. Leader’s gentle hands guiding Whumpee to the correct position when they were learning how to fight is the memory that guides them as they fasten the muzzle behind their own head. And it is with Healer’s affectioned smile whenever Whumpee asks them to bandage the most meaningless wounds shining in their mind that they hold still when Whumper places a finger under their chin and tilts their chin up.

“Look,” Whumper whispers, shifting to the side so Whumpee can see their reflection in the mirror. So their team can see it too.

Their eyes shine with unshed tears. They had never realized how small they look when they aren’t using their words to make themself bigger. How their wrists look so very thin surrounded by metal. But there’s only so much Whumpee can look at before their eyes fall on the muzzle.

It covers half of their face, stiff leather locking their mouth shut. They look… defeated. Young. They look so terribly young with that thing covering their mouth, only big scared eyes and empty defiance left.

“So much prettier when you’re quiet,” Whumper sighs, letting out a low chuckle. “Why don’t we work on the lack of respect, now?”

When they unsheathe a knife and let the sharp tip shine near Whumpee’s face, they can’t help but pull away with a scared whine. The guards are there in an instant to hold them still as Whumper laughs out loud and presses the blade against Whumpee’s chest, delighting in their muffled screams as it draws a line of blood across their skin.

On the other side of the mirror, though Whumpee can't hear them, their team screams themselves hoarse as they watch Whumpee’s blood run and pool around them. They don’t stop even after Whumpee is left in a bloody, sobbing heap on the floor for them to stare at.

-

Prompts from this list

“Good morning, Whumpee.” Whumper walked into the room, letting the door fall closed behind them. Their hands were clasped behind their back in a businesslike fashion.

Whumpee shifted in the confines of their cage, short enough that they had to sit- or kneel, by Whumper’s demand- and suspended in the air at about waist height. They had been left there for long enough that they didn’t know how much time had passed. That being said, they were a little salty.

“Found the time to visit? I thought you were far too busy. I’m not getting in the way of your appointments, am I?” They reclined in their cage as much as they were able to, pretending like the bars didn’t dig into their back.

“Oh, don’t worry, I cleared my whole schedule. I want to take my time with you.”

“How considerate.” Whumpee took a deep breath and yawned, hopefully looking bored. “Sadly, something came up while you were away, and I actually have to cancel on you. I hope you can understand. Which way to the exit?”

“You talk too much.” Whumper frowned, though the lack of any actual anger sent red flags flooding through Whumpee. “Luckily, I have just the thing to break you of that.”

They unclasped their hands from behind their back, revealing a leather muzzle dangling from their fingers.

Whumpee slammed themselves as far away as possible. The cage swayed unsteadily on its chain. “Absolutely not- you are not putting that thing on me.”

Whumper took a step closer, eyes glinting as Whumpee shrank further into themselves. “Oh, doll, do you think it’s a choice you get to make? What have I told you?”

Whumpee swallowed heavily. “I belong to you. I exist to- to please you.”

Whumper hummed in agreement and reached out.

“But- but you said you like to hear me scream,” Whumpee said desperately. They cringed at the flimsy argument, hating themselves for it. Hating themselves for the warring inside of them between obedience and rebellion. Hating that they were considering obeying at all.

“Oh, I do.” Whumper grinned. “And believe me, I will make you scream soon enough. But today I want to see you obeying me, and to do that, I can’t have you talking back.”

Whumpee’s breath caught in their throat. As they stared at the piece of leather in Whumper’s hand, everything else seemed to fall away. They suddenly couldn’t gather much thought past the repetition of what it was, trying to make sense of it. It was a muzzle. A muzzle. Like you would put on a dog that bit someone. The thought of wearing one was humiliating and degrading and so very wrong.

Their vision blurred.

“Whumpee? You still with me?”

Fingers snapped in front of their nose. They jumped, flinching. Whumper laughed and ran a thumb over their face. Whumpee quivered under the intimate contact that held them at the edge of panic. The hand drew back, and they found themselves leaning forward after it for half a second, desperate for the small comfort it provided. They quickly stopped themselves and pulled back again.

Whumper clicked their tongue. “Don’t pull back, you were being so good. Sweet. Come here for me, so I can put this on you.”

“I- please. No,” they whispered. Their eyes ached from holding back tears. They tried to muster up some courage, to say something clever, but nothing came to mind. They were numb with fear. Somehow, wearing that muzzle seemed like accepting Whumper’s crazy notions. If they couldn’t actively argue with Whumper, how long would it be before they started to believe them?

“Don’t be difficult.”

“It’s not being difficult for me to- I’m not a dog! You can’t make me wear that!”

Whumper raised their eyebrows, unimpressed. “You belong to me, don’t you? I can make you do anything I want, and it’s time you learn that. It’s perfectly reasonable for me to keep my belongings in line. Now, come here.”

Whumper’s tone edged into dangerous territory- the voice they used when they were done with Whumpee’s disobedience, and it would be punished if it continued.

Whumpee ground their teeth together and leaned forward, inches from the front bars of their cage. Whumper’s hands slid through, holding the muzzle.

They tapped Whumpee’s chin. “Open up.”

Whumpee did, closing their eyes. The bit slid into their mouth, weighing heavily on their tongue and not letting their mouth close properly. The leather stretched tightly over their face, digging into their cheeks and pulling at their hair while it was fastened behind their head. It would leave red marks, if not bruises.

Through the leather they felt Whumper’s hand on their face again, running possessive lines over them. Whumpee opened their eyes, shuddering at the sight of Whumper’s adoring grin.

“Oh, that silence is beautiful. I thought I’d like the sight of you like this, but this… you’re just so precious, Whumpee. With your eyes all wide and scared. That little crease between your eyebrows. You can’t talk back to me, can’t defend yourself. I might just have to keep you like this.”

Whumpee’s heart wrenched. Their eyes pooled with tears that fell before they could do anything about it. The tension seeped out of their muscles, leaving them empty and numb and wracked with sobs.

Whumper sighed dreamily and crouched level with them, cupping Whumpee’s face in their hands.

“How lovely,” Whumper murmured to them, tilting their face upward. “I can’t wait to see you break for me.”

Whumpee sagged against the bars, limp and pliable in Whumper’s hands.

——-

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