This Is Awesome, I Haven't Seen This Plot/trope Anywhere Else, Keep Up The Good Work!

This is awesome, I haven't seen this plot/trope anywhere else, keep up the good work!

NOTES: This is gonna be my first proper piece of whump writing. Pretty much ever, but certainly on Tumblr. So. We'll see how this goes, I guess? If you have any suggestions for names for my whumpee, please suggest them. Because I don't have a clue.

CONTENT: Accidental caretaker? bad caretaker?, pet whump (not bbu), burglar caretaker???, dehumanisation, it/its pronouns (not character's preferred pronouns? unsure), begging, muzzles, shock collars, starvation, caretaker calls whumpee "kid" (whumpee is an adult).

If he was being honest, Ivan had only broken in for the money. After all, Edmund James-Fuller was one of the richest men in the county, and, as much as Ivan would like to say that he was, too, he was not. Therefore, the need to steal arose.

So it was a gloomy Thursday night, and Ivan found himself staring through the window of the Fuller Mansion, his eyes widening at the sight within.

But it wasn't the silk curtains which had caught his eye, nor the oil paintings hanging over the fireplace. No, it was the boy in the centre of the room, whimpering and bleeding onto the faux (he hoped) fur rug.

His hands were held behind his back, a collar buckled around his thin neck, a muzzle tight against his face, and he was staring at the ceiling, his eyes unfocused; but, then again, it was hard to tell from here. He seemed to be waiting for something, almost as if-

A man walked through the open door, one hand resting on a silver cane. His shoulders were draped in a black robe, and his dark eyes gleamed with malice. "Hello, Pet," he murmured. His voice was smooth, polished. "I see you've behaved, hm? Good boy."

The boy whimpered, faintly. The man - Edmund, he must be Edmund - smiled, carding his hand through the boy's hair. He must have been used to it, as he didn't flinch away, instead sitting very still until Edmund finished. "There we go."

Ivan was still watching silently through the window. Invisible unless you tilted your head at just the right angle. He just couldn't believe... No. No, he could. Of course he could.

As he watched, Edmund drew back, tutting. "All this blood on my floor... and on my lovely new rug, too... hm. We shall have to do something about that, shan't we?"

"Pl- please, Master, I... I didn't mean... to..." the boy protested.

"That is of no importance. What is done is done. And whoever, or whatever did it... must face the consequences. Understood?"

"Y- yes, Master."

"Very good. That shall make what is to come... a little easier." He pressed his hand harder on his cane, as though for more support, and something clicked. Then came the screaming.

Ivan didn't remember much of what happened next. One minute, he was perched precariously outside the window, the next, he was standing over Edmund's unconscious body, the cane in his right hand, a poker from the fireplace in his left.

The boy was left, shaking and whimpering, at his feet. Ivan knelt to remove his muzzle, lowering the cane to the ground as he did so.

"Sir... please, it... it was being... trying to be... be good..."

He dropped the poker. It clanged loudly against the wooden floorboards, and the boy let out a little yelp. "P- please, sir, please... it isn't... it didn't..."

"You're not staying here," Ivan said shortly. "You're coming home with me."

The boy looked up. "Sir, it can't... chains..."

Ivan crouched beside the boy and unclipped the chains from his wrists - a little rougher than intended, but it didn't matter. He picked up the chains to examine them.

"Could get a lot of money for that..." he muttered. "...silver..."

"Please, sir, don't... don't send it away, don't... don't sell it, please..."

"Not gonna sell you, kid."

"Th- thank you, sir, it doesn't.. doesn't deserve it... and Master would be angry..." The boy shuddered, tucking his arms around his legs in what looked like an attempt to feel safer.

"Right. We're leaving, then," Ivan said firmly. "Come on, get up."

"But... Master...?"

"No. He doesn't matter anymore."

The boy nodded obediently, moving onto his hands and knees, before crawling after Ivan, only a few steps behind.

"Can you... walk?" Ivan asked, eyeing the boy uncomfortably.

Immediately, he scrambled to his feet, tripping over several times in his haste to follow orders.

"Good."

The boy followed Ivan down the stairs and out of the double doors, through the gardens and out onto the road. Parked to one side, a mere shadow against the trees, was his car.

"Get in the back." Ivan opened the door and slid into his seat, then pulled it closed again. He heard the boy's whimper as it slammed, but forced himself to ignore it. He could deal with it when they got home. He could deal with it all when they got home.

SO. That was my first proper piece of whump writing??? I hope it wasn't too shitty. Still need a name for our lovely whumpee. More of this will probably come soon.

Content: Captivity, multiple whumpees, caretaker-turned-whumpee, multiple whumpers, talk of interrogation, wounds/injuries.

"Aw, look at them," Whumper cooed, motioning to the security camera that showed Whumpee and Caretaker curled up in the corner of their cell. Caretaker had a protective arm around Whumpee's hunched frame, stopping anyone from going near them, despite being far more battered and bruised than them.

Whumper's workers grinned as they watched. "Gonna have so much fun breaking them in," one of them commented. "Looks like someone's already had a go."

The boss chuckled. "Slow down now. We'll give 'em a few days to settle in. Let them fret a little until they're ready to cooperate with us. Something tells me Caretaker will be of more use to us than Whumpee, but we need to be sure. So in the meantime, it's our job to watch, listen and observe until we find out who has the information we need. Then we can have our fun."

There was a chorus of disappointed mumbles, but no one dared to outwardly protest. Instead, they stayed by Whumper's side and watched through the security camera as Caretaker pressed a trail of gentle kisses along Whumpee's face and mumbled reassurances to them.

Reassurances that always turned out to be lies sooner or later.

Ocs for the next whump thing I'm writing :]

Felix

20, he/him, whumpee

Colton

26, he/him, whumper

Cw: pet whump, abuse, bbu, humiliation, whipping, it as a pronoun (trained)

Pet sat under the large dining table between Sir's feet. It half-listened to the bustling conversations and clinks of silver utensils on expensive china.

It was Sir's–the prince's– birthday today, and an extravagant dinner had been put into place to celebrate.

It laid its chin on the Prince's thighs, catching his attention.

"Hello, sweet pet." Sir scooted his chair back slightly, peering down at Pet with a smile. He squeezed the handle of Pet's gold chain, removing a bit of the slack.

"Sir, may I have a bit of your meal?" It asked, reassured by its owners good mood.

"Of course, give me a second," Sir returned his attention to the table, and a second later his hand appeared with a large bite of tender-looking steak. "Eat up, baby."

Pet ate the chunk straight from Sir's hand, reveling in the taste. The meat was warm and tasted of garlic. After it swallowed the chunk down, it licked the extra juice from where Sir's ring and middle finger met.

"Thank you, your majesty~ Delicious." It said between gentle licks.

"'Your majesty,' huh? You're adorable~" Sir purred, his voice low and sweet like warm honey. His hand brushed through Pet's hair, ruffling the freshly cleaned curls.

Pet enjoyed how Sir's hand continued to play with its hair, even as he returned his attention to the other royalty and friends.

Sir had asked before if it wanted to sit at the table, but it had politely refused. It wasn't uncommon for royalty or other members of the upper class to own pets like it, but it had always been embarrassed anyway. It much preferred sitting between Sir's knees anyway.

Pet tilted its head up, Sir's hand stilling over its face. Pet opened its mouth and drew its tongue slowly up his warm palm. Sir lowered his hand so his ring and middle finger were pressed against its tongue.

It began to suck on the prince's long fingers, drool running down its lip.

A boot rested on its thigh posessively, pushing slightly. Sir leaned back and looked down for a second.

"Don't bite." He warned, running his finger along the bottom of its top teeth. His mood still seemed pretty good, so Pet playfully bit down, closing its lips around the fingers.

Sir's hand withdrew and in the next moment, Pet was on its side, clutching its chest where it was kicked. It held back a whine as Sir's boot planted against its cheekbone and ground its face into the polished wooden floor. "Im sorry!" It squealed.

The chattering at the table stopped, save for a few hushed mumbles.

"Well," Sir announced. "It seems it's time for the entertainment of the night."

The weight lifted from its face, and it felt Sir tug it by its collar. It got to its hands and knees and pushed past the chair.

Sir was cheerful as ever, humming to himself.

Pet was dragged to an open part of the hall where anyone at the feast could see. Sir dropped his end of the gold leash.

"As all of you know, today marks my 30th bithday!" Sir declared, walking around Pet in a circle, a display. "My pet has been naughty tonight," he leaned down, "haven't you?"

Pet looked up. "Sir, Im sorry! I didn't mean it! I thought you were playing around!"

"My sweet thing decided to bite me," he announced, coming to a stop. "Ill let you all pick how he's punished. 30 of anything."

"Im sorry!"

Pet expected someone to protest. For anyone to be disgusted. For one fucking person to go 'hey, maybe we shouldnt punish it for doing absolutely nothing.'

It didn't expect people to start calling out suggestions.

"Break 30 of its bones!"

"Beat it with a belt!"

"Punch it!"

"30 cuts across its back!"

The symphony of threats sang like a hymn from the table. At one point, a woman with a extravagant dress slid a short crop into the mouth of a boy leashed to her wrist. She mumbled something to him and he crawled to the end of his leash and dropped it near Sir's feet.

"Why thank you!" Sir exclaimed, picking it up and ruffling the pet's hair. "Beautiful pet you have here, ma'am."

As the boy crawled away, Sir picked up the crop and approached Pet. He crouched to its level and held its cheek.

"Please, Sir, not in front of everyone! Ill take double the punishment if you do this in private." It begged him, refusing to look up.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Just a show, dear. Im not really mad. Scream pretty for our guests and I won't have to hit as hard."

Pet curled its head in between its knees, horror seeping through every nerve. Was that supposed to be comforting?

He was waiting for me to slip up.

It looked back at the boy who had delivered the crop. He kneeled at the side of the woman, hands behind his back and head bent. Once and a while, though, he glanced up, empathy shining in his clear, gray eyes.

Sir stood next to Pet, his fingers running through its hair. "Looks like we're whipping him tonight. Close your eyes now, if you wish."

And then came the first hit. Pain stung across his bare back. He didn't need to pretend to scream.

Thwack, thwack, thwack.

Pet screamed and blabbered in pain. About ten whips in, Pet noticed how they got weaker. It kept its voice up, knowing that if it got quieter, the pain would grow worse again.

Twenty whips in, its back was getting numb. The pain still seared when its heart beat and blood pulsed through the wounds, but it was better than nothing.

"Please-" it still begged. "Hurts so bad-"

Of course, a chorus of no! Keep going!

"Oh?" Sir stopped, using the crop to push up its chin. "Well let the others decide." He turned to the crowd. "Should I stop?"

The pet who had brought the crop chimed in, "stop, he- he didn't-" He cut off abruptly as his owner dug her nails into his shoulder.

"Im sorry, Pet," Sir said, dragging the crop up its face and hovering over its back. "Our guests want a show."

Okay but what about total sensory deprivation and full-body restraint as a torture method, with physical contact (even physical and verbal affection) as incentive for obedience? Because whumper has found that positive and negative reinforcement are needed to get the results they want in whumpee (not to mention torture without permanent markings makes it easier for whumper to show whumpee off, as well as manipulating them with the "it could be worse" excuse).

(tw: sensory deprivation, body pain, conditioning, brainwashing, restraints)

Whumpee had messed up.

One little off hand comment and they were strung up to the ceiling, gag in their mouth, headphones taped over their ears, blindfold over their eyes. The only thing they could feel was the consistent aching of their bones and the rough ropes around their wrists and ankles.

They thought themselves disgusting for even thinking it, but they wanted Whumper. Needed them to come in, pet them, hold them, tell them that they were good. They couldn’t take it anymore.

They didn’t hear the door opening but they sobbed in relief when they felt the ropes loosening. When they finally collided with the floor, their body twitched with aches and cramps.

They felt the harshness of the tape being peeled off of their face, the headphones leaving them. Their eyes squinted to the sight of light when the blindfold was finally taken away.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Whumper finally asked, Whumpee happier than ever to hear another voice. Whumpee cried and nodded desperately, trying to breathe through the aftershocks of pain.

Whumper wordlessly scooped Whumpee up and embraced them in their arms, grinning when Whumpee returned it and wrapped their aching limbs around Whumper.

Little did Whumpee know, this was the biggest step in breaking them.

masochist whumpee supremacy masochist whumpee supremacy masochist whumpee supremacy maso

Incompetence

Alright fine you guys win, here you go <3 

On today’s episode of Humiliating a Masochist:  A dreaded visitor pays our little Seven a visit. He’s in for a bad time :) (masochist!seven au)

Seven Series Masterlist

Context: In this AU, Seth is a longtime family friend of the McQueen family, and brings his little pet along with him for a visit. (See series masterlist for character guide)

Seth & Pumpkin belong to the wonderful @whumpshaped​

WARNING: NSFW content (non-graphic), masochist whumpee, humiliation, degradation, conditioned whumpee, self deprecation.

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