June Of Doom Day 15

June of Doom Day 15

"Please"

| Blindfold | Pressure Points | Scream |

Cw: Torture, The prompts above

...

Whumpee was terrified to the point of shaking. They tugged uselessly at their bonds as they heard the footsteps of Whumper circling them. They were blindfolded, unable to see a thing, and tied down to a table so they couldn't interfere.

"Whumpee, have you ever heard of pressure points?" Whumper asked, running their finger down Whumpee's arm.

Whumpee didn't answer. The next thing they knew, there was a sharp slice across their arm and they screamed.

"I asked you a question Whumpee."

They whimpered, then shook their head.

"They're these points on the body connected to nerves." Whumper's hand resumed its path, running gently down their side. "They can be used to release stress, or pain. But some..." Whumper's hand stopped on Whumpee's throat.

"Please," Whumpee whimpered, but they weren't even sure what they were asking for. Whumper didn't acknowledge it.

They leaned in close, so their breath ghosted Whumpee's ear. "Some cause pain."

They pushed down on the point on their Adam's apple, and Whumpee screamed.

June of Doom Day 6

"You're doing great."

| Injection | Nightmare | Duct Tape |

Cw: Implied torture

People liked my Hero/Villain whump so I'm gonna write more of that because that is the good shit and I didn't want to be repetitive before. Also Villain Caretaker>>>>>>Villain Whumper

...

By the time Villain had found Hero, they had already been beaten unconscious and their attacker was long gone. They lay, bruised and bleeding, ducktape binding their hands and feet and covering their mouth.

Villain cursed and scooped them up into their arms, carrying them with ease to their car. Once their limp form was suitably strapped in, Villain tore out of the car park and headed for their lair. They didn't bother removing the duct tape just yet, it would have been a waste of time.

Villain called Henchman on the way, cutting red lights and cursing at crossings.

"Boss?"

"You're going to find out who hurt Hero, and you're going to bring them to me."

"Is everything okay? What happened."

"You're going to find them, do you understand?"

"Uh, yes boss, of course."

The line went dead and Villain swerved to avoid a truck as they sped through another intersection.

When they eventually arrived at their lair, Hero had begun to stir.

Villain unbuckled them from their seat and ripped the tape from their mouth, carrying them into their lair and placing them gently on a couch.

They used a knife to cut the bonds from Hero and laid them out as gently as they could.

Hero began to stir, but Villain quickly realised they weren't waking, they were having a nightmare.

"No, please, no more," Hero begged, and Villain cursed, but let them sleep through it. It's worse to wake them during a nightmare, they knew.

But when Hero kept struggling, and wouldn't calm down, Villain found themself strapping their struggling nemesis to the table they normally used for torture.

"Calm down, I'm trying to help you."

Hero wasn't listening. "No, please, no"

Villain didn't listen and began preparing the supplies to treat Hero's various wounds.

They treated their burns and the slash across their forehead, whispering encouragements as they set Hero's broken leg. Hero had given up fighting, hovering halfway between conscious and unconscious

"You're doing great," they said, and Hero just gritted their teeth against the pain as their leg was splinted.

They bandaged Hero's cut arms, and eventually moved to cut off Hero's shirt, to reveal a myriad of cuts crisscrossing their chest.

Villain glared, trying to reign in their anger, then placed the scissors down on the table, with probably more force than necessary. Hero flinched at the clatter.

"Who did this?"

Hero shook their head.

"Tell me."

Hero looked away as best they could and didn't meet Villain's gaze. Villain just cursed again and set to work on the wounds on their chest.

When they were done, they retrieved an injection of antibiotics from their supplies. Hero tried to struggle away, but they were held tight.

"Calm down. It's just antibiotics, some of you're wounds are already infected."

Hero gulped. "Why are you doing this?"

Villain didn't look at them as they pressed the syringe into Hero's arm and pressed in the plunger.

"No one gets to hurt you but me. Get that?"

Hero nodded hesitantly, and Villain stepped away from him, beginning to clean up the various packages and bloody clothes left around.

Henchman interrupted before Hero could question anymore.

They gave barely a glance to Hero before they turned to Villain, their grin positively feral.

"Found him," they said, and Villain smiled.

June of Doom Day 1

"You don't want to do that"

| Collapse | Locked Door | Fear |

Cw: Mentions of torture, blood ...

"You don't want to do that"

Whumpee hesitated, their hand just inches away from the knife on the table. They'd managed to escape their bonds, their hands bloody from pulling free from the rope, and still shaky from forcing open the door. But they hadn't reached the knife in time. Whumper was standing behind them. They could do it, grab the knife and use it. They just had to grab the knife. Their legs were too shaky to step away from the wall, but the knife was just there. They reached again, fingertips brushing against the cool metal of the handle. Whumper's voice stopped them again.

"If you pick up that knife I'm going to hurt you in ways that made you wish you were dead."

Whumpee's breathing picked up. They just had to grab the knife. Their fingers wrapped around the hilt. There were tears in their eyes. They just had to swing the knife.

"Let go and come here right now, and I won't punish you for trying to escape. But if you pick up that knife Whumpee," Whumper sighed, "I'm going to have to hurt you again. And I know I love it when you scream. But you don't. So put down the knife Whumpee."

Whumpee had already made up their mind, and swung the knife, pivoting to aim for Whumper's throat. But Whumper was faster and batted the blade away. Whumpee sobbed as their knees buckled, falling to the ground as the last of their strength sapped. The knife landed on the ground, just out of reach. Whumpee sobbed again, curling up as they realised what they'd done.

"Please," they begged, but it was too late. Whumper bent to scoop up the knife, wiping the bloody handle on a handkerchief they'd pulled from their pocket.

"Tsk, you got blood on the wrong side, Whumpee. I guess we'll have to fix that."

Whumpee could do nothing but whimper as Whumper strolled to the door, locked it, and strode back to them.

"Wouldn't want you running away again, would we?" they said, before slashing the knife across Whumpee's chest.

June of Doom Day 9

"I should have listened to you"

| Sprain | Defiant | Smoke |

Cw: threats, aggravating injury, creepy whumper

I had fun with this one cause the tags were so random, and who doesn't love a defiant whumpee?

...

Whumpee lay on the ground, clutching their sprained ankle, and tried to drag themself away from Whumper.

Whumper continued to advance though, and Whumpee was nowhere near fast enough to escape them. Whumpee coughed, feeling the smoke begin to claw its way into their lungs. The fire was getting closer. The heat was beginning to scorch the air and the smoke was thickening with each passing second as Whumper drew closer. The smoke didn't seem to affect them in the slightest.

Whumper crouched before them and grabbed their ankle, yanking them towards them. Whumpee yelped in pain.

"You thought you could get away? Aw Whumpee, did you really think you could escape me?"

Whumpee tried to scramble away but Whumper's grip on their ankle was solid.

"I told you I'd burn down this house if you ever returned, but you never listen. I'll tell you what, if you beg me to take you back, it you admit you should have listened to me, I'll help you back home and fix up this ankle of yours. And if you don't..." Whumper twisted their swollen ankle, eliciting a cry of pain from Whumpee, who began to curse them out.

"I'll never beg you, psychopath!"

Whumper chuckled. "Aw, it's cute that you think that. I'll have you begging soon enough." And with that, they yanked Whumpee even closer and readjusted their grip, standing and beginning to drag Whumpee by their injured foot, right towards the flames.

Whumpee squirmed and kicked but Whumper was too strong, and they could do nothing but scream as they were dragged over the burning furniture.

Praise Whump

I'm a sucker for when the whumpee is so desperate for affection they'll put up with anything from the whumper, so I figured for my first post I'd write one of those. I'd appreciate any feedback you can give me :)

...

Whumpee crouched in the corner of the cold, damp cell. The chains around their wrists chafed the raw skin, yet they clutched them tight, like they were the only thing stopping them from fading into the shadows around them.

The door opened with a creak and a shaft of light filtered into the darkness.

Whumpee whimpered, both in relief and in fear, as Whumper strode into the room.

Despite their aching limbs, Whumpee hoisted themselves onto their knees, straightening their back as well as they could with their wounds.

Whumper smiled with approval. "Good," he said, crouching down before Whumpee, who had their eyes glued to the floor in front of them. They warmed at the praise.

"We're going to play a little, Whumpee," he said, lifting Whumpee's chin to face him. "Would you like that?"

Whumpee almost shuddered at the thought. They knew what play meant. It meant that knife. It meant pain. But if they did well, it also meant Whumper's praise. And they really wanted Whumper's praise.

Whumpee nodded, and Whumper smiled. He leaned down and began to unlock the cuffs, careful not to touch Whumpee's skin. He never touched them, not unless he was hurting them.

He was training them, Whumpee knew. And it was working. They were beginning to crave the pain, if only for the comfort of Whumper.

Whumpee stood on shaky legs, following a few steps after Whumper with their head down. When they emerged into the antechamber outside the cell, Whumpee's heart did a little leap. This was where they played. Where they got to touch Whumper, and hear him whisper praise. There were two other doors leading off of the chamber. One heading upstairs. One to the room where Whumpee was punished.

They shuddered at the thought of that room, doing their best not to look at the iron door.

Whumper sat on the chair in the middle of the chamber, watching as Whumpee sank to their knees before him. "You know what to do," he said, and Whumpee nodded. "Yes, Whumper," they said, rising again to gather the supplies from around the room.

They were quick in their work, grabbing the bucket of water and the cloth and placing them beside Whumper. They took the knife last. Long and sharp and sparkling, it had cut every one of the scars into Whumpee's skin. They lifted it with shaking hands and stood before Whumper, offering it to him.

"Good," Whumper told them, taking the knife, "come here."

Whumpee bit their lip to keep from sighing as they sat down on Whumper's lap, their hands quickly knotting themselves into his t-shirt. He was so warm, and Whumpee was so cold.

Whumper didn't give any warning as he began to slide the knife down their shoulder, shallow but still drawing blood. Whumpee whimpered, clutching him tighter. Whumper shushed them, one hand stroking their arm as the other drew the knife down across their spine. He was always careful not to permanently damage Whumpee. He needed them in good condition so he could keep playing with them.

Whumpee sobbed silently as Whumper carved up their back, praising and shushing them with every cut.

"You're doing so good, Whumpee."

"Shhh, you can do it," he would say, as Whumpee clutched onto his soft t-shirt and sobbed into his shoulder.

By the time he was done, Whumpee's back was little more than a mess of blood, but Whumpee almost didn't want it to be over. They wanted to stay in Whumper's lap, and feel his warm chest and soft clothes and hear his gentle praise.

Whumper carefully unknotted Whumpee's hands from his shirt and pushed him gently off. Whumpee whimpered at the loss of contact, but slid off of Whumper's lap and fell into a kneel before him. Whumper smiled. They were being so good.

Whumper stood and walked to the small sink against the wall, placing the knife there, before returning to where Whumpee knelt. He'd have Whumpee clean it later, as always. But first, he had to deal with Whumpee's back.

He needed Whumpee ready and healed for their next session.

He knelt behind them, and, using the cloth and water, washed off the wounds on Whumpee's back. Careful not to touch their skin. Careful that only the rough scratch of the cloth and the bite of the cold water were felt by the silent Whumpee.

When the wounds were clean, Whumper dressed them cleanly, then stepped away from them, and turned towards the room where he punished Whumpee. He strolled inside, shut and locked the door behind him, as he left Whumpee to clean and deal with the bloody mess in the room.

It was a warning. If Whumpee didn't do a good enough job, they would be joining Whumper in that room.

Or if they displeased Whumper by spilling the bucket of bloody water on the floor, like they just had.

"You know you need to be punished for this Whumpee?" Whumper told them as they knelt on the ground, ready to beg. But they knew it was futile, and just nodded.

More Praise Whump cause this is the Good Shit

"I can't- please- I can't-"

"Just relax baby, you can do it."

"I can't, it hurts-"

"I know baby, but you're doing so well, you look so pretty like this. Just a few more."

The girl was strung up, quivering and clammy, her eyes covered by a blindfold, the only fabric on her. Her arms were cuffed to the ceiling, her feet to the floor, and she couldn't do more than hang as the man swung the whip back and it landed across her back, adding to the growing collection of red stripes.

"Please," she whimpered again, "why are you doing this? What did I do wrong?"

She was sobbing so much that the words came out blubbering.

He shushed her again, stepping up to wipe away her tears. "You didn't do anything wrong. You're doing so well."

This just elicited another sob from her. "But why," she managed to get out again.

He continued to wipe away her tears, tenderly, with the back of his hand.

"Because you look so pretty like this. It pleases me to see you like this. Don't you want to please me?"

She didn't answer, just hanging her head as he stepped back to crack the whip once more, and she screamed.