Omfg I

Omfg i <3 masochist whumpees they're so fucking great

Genuinely if you make masochist whumpee content, tag me ill eat that shit uppp

mm masochistic whumpee dialogue bc im in a listy mood. was supposed to be a lil drabble for @whump-queen and honestly that might come later but for now. this

tw masochistic whumpee, degradation, humiliation, dehumanisaton, implied nsfw

"oh. you're enjoying this."

"that's fucking disgusting, i can't believe you just moaned."

"you want me to go harder? yeah. you do."

"stop trying to lie, it's written all over your face. and other parts."

"maybe i'm not even enough for a freak like you. let me call a couple friends."

"i wouldn't have ever thought of touching a captive. but well... when you're looking at me like that..."

"oh, this isn't punishment for you, huh? we'll figure out something else for that, then. or is the humiliation of getting off on this enough?"

"i just slapped you, and you're blushing?"

"i know you love the whip. maybe even more than i do."

"for any normal person, this'd be punishment. but i'm offering it to you as a reward."

"i'll go so far beyond your limits that even you won't enjoy it."

"say it. i want you to admit to just how gross you are."

"won't you beg to be hurt in all the ways you love so much?"

"it's violating, isn't it? to be made to feel good like this."

"i wonder what your friends would think of you."

"such a broken mess of a person. have you never had any dignity, or was it simply lost along the way?"

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.

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.

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

Felix

20, he/him, whumpee

Colton

26, he/him, whumper

Whumptober2022 - No.20 - Fetal Position

The Taste of Your Lips

Warnings: poisoning, loss of consciousness, caretaker and whumpee

Caretaker sat with Whumpee on the couch, the two of them sharing a bottle of wine. It was very rare for the two of them to be able to relax like this. It was nice. Whumpee nuzzled closer into Caretaker’s neck. 

“Soft,” they murmured quietly. “So, soft.”

Caretaker wrapped an arm around Whumpee and squeezed. “Only for you.”

Whumpee laughed and drained their glass and pour another. “Want some more, Caretaker?”

Caretaker eyed their still mostly full glass. “I’m good. You keep enjoying it though.” Whumpee was now on their third glass. “You rarely get to relax like this, Whumpee.”

Whump took another big sip and settled back against Caretaker. “’S nice,” they slurred. “Y’r ‘ice, C’errrrr.” 

“Maybe you need to slow down just a bit,” Caretaker said with a smile as they tried to remember what Whumpee had eaten that day. They were liable to forget to feed themself if Caretaker didn’t prompt them repeatedly. Maybe they hadn’t prompted Whumpee enough today. 

“’M finnnnnee,” Whumpee said sleepily. They snuggled deeper into Caretaker’s arms and closed their eyes. 

Caretaker smiled down at Whumpee, glad to see Whumpee finally relaxing. Their phone buzzed on the table in front of them. They didn’t want to move and wake Whumpee. But they worried the phone buzzing would wake Whumpee and the moment would be lost. 

Leaning over carefully, Caretaker answered the ‘Unknown Caller’ call. “Hello?”

“Enjoying my present, Caretaker?” Whumper’s deep purr came over the line. 

“Whumper! What did you?”

“Whumpee didn’t say that the bottle was a gift? Shame. Both of you seemed to enjoy it so.”

Caretaker’s mouth ran dry. “I’m fine.”

“But is Whumpee? You have to drink quite a bit for it to become toxic, Caretaker.”

Caretaker looked down at Whumpee again, heart stopping as they realized Whumpee was barely breathing. They dropped the phone with Whumper’s laughter echoing in their ears as they tried to rouse Whumpee.