justplainwhump

[justplainwhump]

whumpee waking up tied to a bed is absolutely one of my favorites because personally i would be terrified out of my mind because why a bed of all things. a chair or literally anything but a bed.

[justplainwhump]

hear me out -

Whumpee and Caretaker who had some kind of established relationship before the whump, romantic or otherwise. Whumpee has been having trouble being physically close with Caretaker because they keep getting triggered, and this is super frustrating to Whumpee because physical touch had always been a source of bonding/comfort for them.

One day, Whumpee and Caretaker are sitting close and Caretaker gives them a mindless, affectionate physical touch (stroking hair, rubbing back, etc.) but notices Whumpee is tearing up and immediately draws back.

“Oh - I’m sorry - I didn’t mean -“

“No -“ Whumpee grabs their hand. “It’s okay.”

“But you’re crying.”

“I know.” Whumpee gives a watery laugh. “It’s just because…it finally feels like you again. And nobody else.”

[justplainwhump]

Boosting this so hard, because she does beautiful art and is a pleasure to work with 🥰

For reference - here's the piece she did for me, which was for Dany's Romeo and Juliet AU, and I still love how my girl turned out!

Commissions Open

I said I would open commissions after my birthday. It’s been a couple weeks and I am keeping to my word. Commissions are back to being open. I’ll be looking to rework my former pinned post to look shiny and updated. For now it won’t be pinned, but prices haven’t changed. Rules are still the same. No changes. No notes. If you have any questions feel free to message me.

[justplainwhump]

And I do have the Alicia series, that also has captivity noncon!

Captivity noncon

Content: rape, stripping, captivity, sexual torture, spanking/bdsm (nonconsensual)

Victim swearing under their breath as captor tells everyone to "leave me and whumpee alone for a bit".

Soldier taking advantage of the fact that victim is a prisoner and rapist is their guard. Pinning their shackled body against the wall and whispering, "you backtalked the wrong guard, sweets." And then they start pulling their pants down.

Noncon as torture. Tying whumpee in a sitting position with their rear off the edge of the chair, and leaving canes, paddles, sexual torture implements, next to them, setting them down one at a time. When victim just hides their face and shudders (crying, refusing to speak), torturer then offers their body to the guards, to take turns and do whatever they want to them. (If you wrote something like this please let me know I'm interested)

Smack. "I know you can cry louder, whumpee, don't make me force it out of you."

"how about this... Convince me to fuck you, and we'll go from lashes to little love taps, hm?" Smacks their ass with the handle of the whip. "Like that. Doesn't hurt as bad, does it?"

Walking around bound, blindfolded whumpee and tapping body parts with a paddle to make whumpee flinch

Shuddering, silent tears afterward, alone in a cell on the ground, still half-naked and slimy, bleeding.

[justplainwhump]

Captivity noncon

Content: rape, stripping, captivity, sexual torture, spanking/bdsm (nonconsensual)

Victim swearing under their breath as captor tells everyone to "leave me and whumpee alone for a bit".

Soldier taking advantage of the fact that victim is a prisoner and rapist is their guard. Pinning their shackled body against the wall and whispering, "you backtalked the wrong guard, sweets." And then they start pulling their pants down.

Noncon as torture. Tying whumpee in a sitting position with their rear off the edge of the chair, and leaving canes, paddles, sexual torture implements, next to them, setting them down one at a time. When victim just hides their face and shudders (crying, refusing to speak), torturer then offers their body to the guards, to take turns and do whatever they want to them. (If you wrote something like this please let me know I'm interested)

Smack. "I know you can cry louder, whumpee, don't make me force it out of you."

"how about this... Convince me to fuck you, and we'll go from lashes to little love taps, hm?" Smacks their ass with the handle of the whip. "Like that. Doesn't hurt as bad, does it?"

Walking around bound, blindfolded whumpee and tapping body parts with a paddle to make whumpee flinch

Shuddering, silent tears afterward, alone in a cell on the ground, still half-naked and slimy, bleeding.

[justplainwhump]

Forced to watch

reblog with your favourite whump trope!! - let’s see who’s active in the whump community 2025

i’ll start - hidden injury !!!

[justplainwhump]

@hackles-up Dany and Leo?

Whump Dialogue

"I said I was sorry!"

"And I said put your hands on the fucking table"

[justplainwhump]

I am working on my novel and being a bit stuck because I'm starting off with a trauma reveal and my whumpy mind is taking it too far.

So, I feel like it's time for some real whump for Dany in the Fighting Ring arc.

Lmk if there's anything in particular you want to see. Might be about Morry, might be about the bad guys finding out who she actually is.

[justplainwhump]

whump that's framed by the whumper as anything but the senseless violence it truly is - whump they call training. whump they call punishment. penance. correction. purification. clinical terms that obscure what they're doing, that obscure the abuse, institutionalized or interpersonal. terms that enforce you deserve this. this is your fault. there's nothing wrong here.

[justplainwhump]

good-ass trope: whumpee slowly realizing they’ve been drugged. they eat/drink something or feel a tiny pinprick at their neck and think nothing of it, but a few seconds later they feel dizzy and lethargic and confused. everything grows hazy around them and they realize only then, when they’re too weak to do anything about it, what has happened, giving them just enough time to be afraid before losing consciousness.

bonus points if the last thing they see before passing out is the antagonist’s face. bonus bonus points for waking up confused, restrained, and weak as a kitten with antagonist nearby, ready to lay the hurt on.

[justplainwhump]

@hackles-up this makes me realize that we never wrote how Dany shoots Ridley - and if he actually tried that... 🤔

But tbh, I don't think he'd be surprised at all.

really into characters subverting the trope of being too “good” to kill the bad guy.

like the image of a character standing in front of an incapacitated villain who put them/their loved ones through hell…character has a gun trained on villain and villain is sneering, “You’ve got to be kidding me. You won’t do it. We both know you’re too good and ni-“ and then BANG! We see villain’s stunned expression for just a moment before they crumple to the ground ❤️

[justplainwhump]

I want to torture my characters. But I don't know how. So nudge me with an idea for my OCs and it might actually get written. If it's mean enough.

Fluff might only exist between whumpee and whumper in very problematic ways.

[justplainwhump]

What are some of the scariest things Whumper can say to a defiant Whumpee's "Or what?"

Oh very good question! I have some ideas:

"Behave yourself."

"Or what?"

"I could find another one to take your place."

"We could go pay a visit to [Whumpee's most feared]. See what they think."

"I took you under my wing. Don't get too comfortable."

"You think you're invincible. I promise I can do much worse than killing you. Without killing you."

"...I am finding it harder and harder to keep myself from doing something both of us will regret."

"I won't play so nice either."

"Have I been too lenient with you?"

"Haven't they had enough? Does it not hurt enough yet? You think they could survive another round?"

"That's right. Keep that spark alive, for the both of you. Your friend isn't quite as strong as you, are they?"

"Haha! You're a funny one."

"I know your type. You think you're strong. You break slow. I get to watch. It's always so exciting."

"It seems you misunderstood. Let me repeat myself."

"I will not repeat myself."

"You have five seconds."

"That wasn't a question."

"Do you want to see me angry?"

"You're going down a very dangerous path."

"What was that?"

"Say that again."

*the 'I know you did not just say that' staredown + silence combo*

*puts Whumpee's gag back in without a word*

"I will teach you respect."

"I can always make it worse. Remember that."

"You asked for it. Remember that."

"You are waiting for your friends to find you. You're stalling, or you think it doesn't matter what you do, you just have to survive until they arrive. It's very cute how you think there's still a way out of this. That I will ever let you go."

"Four." (Keeping count of Whumpee's misdemeanours. For later.)

"I love how addicted you are to making it worse for yourself."

[justplainwhump]

Mean noncon / forced to watch / punishment whump concept for your delight:

Whumpee A being violently nonconned, probably by a group of whumper's henchmen, everyone taking turns, each more brutal than the other, hardly giving them any break.

Meanwhile, whumpee B is tied up in the same room, forced to watch, while a vibrator is strapped to them / inside them, that gives them no break either, as much as they cry and beg, they just cum while watching their friend be brutalized.

What a sight offered to whumper, when they enter the room after an hour or two 🫣

[justplainwhump]

💍 Princess (Dany's Story I) - Masterlist

Dany | Ridley | B | Leo

Developed (and often written) in collaboration with @hackles-up

After her father is betrayed by those closest to him, Dany is sold off as a prize to mob boss Leo Luciano. He passed her as a gift to his boyfriend, Ridley Lordin, who keeps her captive in his apartment alongside his conditioned WRU Guard Dog B (both characters belonging to @hackles-up). Ridley makes it his pet project to break her, while Dany struggles to keep a sense of self - and not care too much for B.

Tropes: nsfwhump (and lots of it); noncon; dubcon; captivity; female protagonist; intimate whumper; whumpee x caretaker (eventually); humiliation; forced relationship (eventually); BBU pet whump (not main character). Each post is tagged individually as well.

[Dany Masterpost] [Moose's writing]

WRITING (cont'd after the cut)

Set indented and in italics means that a piece belongs there chronologically, but does not bind into the main plot. Marked with * means recent update.

Part 1: The Beginning

Dany is betrayed and struggles with her fate being kept as a plaything in Ridley's penthouse. It becomes worse when Ridley's boyfriend Leo shows up.

[Run, Dany] 

[Housekeeping]

[Shower]

[Hate] - noncon

[Lesson] with Ridley and B

[Waiting]

[Office Day]

* [Borrowed]

[Safe.]

* [Loyalty] - noncon

Part 2: Bonding

To Ridley's dismay, Dany grows closer to her co-captive B.

[Almost]

[What would you do]

[Lights Out] written by moose

[Night Terrors]

[Gift]

[Slap]

[Alone together]

[Game of Trust]

[Hold] by moose

[Not Fair] by moose

[Clinic]

[Plushie]

Part 3: Wife

To fasten his grip on her father's business empire, Dany is forced to become Ridley's wife. It only serves to make his torture less physical - and take it out on B.

[Dressing Room]

[Smile.]

[Break Room]

[Celebration]

[The Christmas Party arc] - noncon; can be read stand alone

[Boring]

Part 4: Escalation

Against Leo's advice (and maybe her own will?), Ridley wants to keep Dany alive. Her despair growing, her and Ridley are set to collide.

[Lost]

[Hold On]

[Rebellion]

[Turning Point]

Part 5: Escape

After Ridley's death, Dany has to run - and deal with an injured and grieving B.

[Not without B]

[Amends]

[Passports]

[Ben]

Part 6: The Fighting Ring

During their escape Dany and B fall into the hands of a band of ruthless criminals.

-> [Dany's Story II | The Fighting Ring Arc (full new masterpost)]

[justplainwhump]

Before & After (Unmade preview)

Content: Noncon whump (sexual), nonconsensual touching, captivity whump, emotional whump, sadistic whumper, threats, (attempted) dissociation

[Wrote this up as my first long-form post for Unmade! Kind of a chapter 1/kind of a preview - it takes place about halfway through Vienna's captivity and is written in a different style than I usually use, darker and more internally focused. Future stuff will go back to the beginning of the story and go more chronologically. I don't anticipate all of the scenes being like this but wanted to set the scene for what we're dealing with here. First ever story posted here so be kind please and heed the content warning. :)]

There is a crack in the ceiling.

It’s a detail she would not have noticed before - Before, in huge, glowing, capital letters, a marquee on a theater she visits over and over again. Observation, she realizes, must not have been her strong suit, Before. Not when there was so much to see, so much to do, life open and enchanting and shiny before her with endless possibility. Certainly not enough to notice the way bruises bloomed and healed on her caramel-colored skin, going from red to blue to gray to faded brown. Not enough to be able discern the smallest change in someone's mood, the arch of an eyebrow or subtle shift in tone that indicated danger. And not nearly enough, she now knew, to pick up on a stranger who lingered near her too long, an unassuming white car that somehow showed up in all the same places she did. Had she been this observant Before, maybe this would never have happened.

But now, in the After, she has all the time in the world for these kinds of details. The crack in the ceiling, the subtle whir of the air conditioning (or is it the heater? It's hard to remember the temperature when you can't see outside), the pull of the leather against her wrists, the sheets moving rhythmically against the welts on her back, the rasp in his moans -

No. The crack in the ceiling. She concentrates her attention on it once more, trying to make meaning from it as if her life depends on it. It has a slight curve to it, almost like one of the distinctive bent whiskers on her cat, and if she focuses hard enough she can nearly feel the soft fur and soothing purr.

The crack winds like the vines crawling up the brick walls of her dorm, and for a moment she's walking inside with her friends, moaning good-naturedly about the essays that will surely keep them up working all night.

It's thin and delicate like the wings of a butterfly, and she remembers lying on the hammock in her back garden with Zander - Zander, she allows her heart to clench for just one moment - when a bright orange butterfly landed right on her hand (on her ring finger, as Zander deftly pointed out). They had laid there so long that day, just talking and laughing, as if they had all the time in the world, as if nothing was coming for them.

The fissure curves back down like an ocean wave, and she lets her mind wander to last summer. Her entire extended family had gathered at the beach to celebrate her grandmother's birthday. She can feel the sensations as if she's there right now - the sun warming her skin, laughter and chatter all around her, waves rolling against the shore, fingers sticky with mango juice, the feeling of his breath hot against her neck -

No. No, not here, she begs, but it’s too late - with a whimper she is ripped back to reality once more. Not sitting on the sand, a warm breeze in her hair, but trapped here in this dank, dim room with him.

“You with me?” He breathes against her. She screws her eyes shut, willing her mind to go back, go blank, but is only met with a slap to the face.

“What's the matter? I'm not doing enough to get your attention? I can make this more exciting, if you want."

A million fearful possibilities flood her mind at that, each worse than the last, and she doesn't want to find out just what he means. “No, please - I'm here. I know."

“Know what? Tell me what I’m doing to you."

She tells him. The words that she wants to come out with robotic stoicism come out in a trembling quiver that makes him smile.

“That's right. How does it feel, hm? I want to hear you say it."

Her gaze returns to the ceiling as she starts to stammer out an answer, but before she gets far he grabs her chin and forces her to look at him.

“Be polite, say it to my face."

Her stomach lurches in disgust as their eyes meet. Those features are far too familiar by now - hair shorn close to his angular head, sweat shining on a face rough with stubble, dark eyes glittering with lust and amusement, mouth twisted in an ever-present smirk even as he pants slightly. He knows what he’s doing, forcing her to be present, and is enjoying every second. “I - I don’t like it. I want you to stop. Please.”

“Mmm.” He hums. “I'm sure you do. But not yet.”

Traitorous tears spill down her cheeks, and he grins. “Poor thing. You really don’t like it, do you? Should I kiss it better?”

“N-no - just stop -"

He leans down anyway and she twists away, mouth clamped shut. He makes do with licking her tears instead and she breaks into sobs.

"Stop it - STOP! Get a-away from me!"

He chuckles and lets his tongue linger on her cheek a moment longer before leaning back. The game is over, for today, and as usual he has won. Any pretense of being detached drains out of her body and stone cold reality takes its place: she is tied down and pinned beneath her captor, while he does things to her that she would have previously found unthinkable, as she has been for the last 4 months, 3 weeks, and 6 days. She could probably count down to the hour if she had a clock.

Now that the dam is broken she can't stop the outpouring of emotion, sobbing and squirming and begging him to stop. Half of her hates herself for it, knowing it will only spur him on, but the other half feels so desperately helpless that she needs to do something, even if it's futile.

At the very least, it brings about the inevitable conclusion a bit sooner: he lets out a breathy, excited laugh and a few minutes later he's finally rolling off of her. The leather cuffs come undone from around her wrists and she gingerly brings her arms to sides, flexing them gently to allow the blood flow to return to normal. Next to the bed, he's putting his clothes back on, for which she says a silent prayer of thanks. Her clothes are also discarded on the floor next to the bed but she doesn't dare move closer to him to grab them, instead wrapping her arms around her body and pulling her knees up to her chest.

"Alright, I'm heading out. I'll want you cleaned up by the time I get back from work tonight. Understood?"

She is already exhausted by the idea and sighs heavily. The energy in the room sharpens as she takes a beat too long to reply. Verbal response, her brain reminds her, and she quickly stammers, "Y-yes. I'll take a shower." Any second now, he'll be out the door and she'll have a few precious hours to herself.

"Mmm. Maybe I should join you."

Her heart skips a beat and she recoils as if he's burnt her as she snaps, "Don't you have to work?"

It is bold to the point of foolishness, and she is lucky all she gets in reply is an amused eyeroll. He’s in a good mood today, willing to tolerate and even enjoy her little snips back at him. Each day is a constant tight rope walk, toeing the line between entertaining him enough that he doesn't up the ante, and aggravating him until he threatens her or hits her or worse. Because it can always get worse.

"I do. Lucky for you. I'll decide while I'm there if you deserve a punishment for that later."

He smiles as the blood drains from her face, but finally turns to go. As the door shuts and locks behind him, she can hear his cheerful whistle fade up the staircase.

Her crawling skin and sore muscles crave the relief of a warm shower, but first she wants to cleanse her mind. It's a daily routine for her at this point, practically a ritual, to recall all the things from Before that made her feel like something more than a stress toy or an object. Like…..a person.

Her mother. Soft sweaters and Pantene shampoo and card games and Sunday night phone calls that could go on for hours.

Her father. Warm hugs and fresh lumpia and worn paperbacks and steady presence that always made her feel safe.

Zander. Twinkling blue eyes and belly laughs and knowing looks and a gentle touch she wishes she could melt into.

Abigail. Matching bracelets and giddy whispers and purple nail polish and -

A door slams above her and her entire body jolts and tenses. Her mind locks onto the sound of his footsteps above, attempting to track whether he’s headed out or headed back downstairs. The images of her loved ones slip from her mind like wisps of smoke, the foggy trails reminding her that they were Before. This is After.

[justplainwhump]

Another snippet, this one, a new shot at the opening scene of Fleeting.

(Please note that everything weird about the phones is due to this story being historic, aka, set in 2007)

--

Somewhere on the outside of the impromptu dance floor, a cell phone rang, muffled by the fabric of employees' jackets and bags thrown over the conference room chairs. The London branch of Gartner & Gartner had won a major contract to redesign a university campus in a London suburb, and the ringtone of the cell phone was drowned out by the sounds of celebration, laughter, merry conversation, and the pleasing pop music blaring from the iPod of one of the older student workers.

Victoria Gartner turned her head to one side in concentration. A brief gesture silenced her counterpart as she tried to recognize the ringtone.

She could feel the weight of her British cell phone in the pocket of her blazer, but her German one was somewhere in her briefcase, and the tone sounded maybe-no. She furrowed her brows indignantly. Germany was over. Her connections had been severed, and that was a good thing. The past had no place at this party. Today she was celebrating her future.

“Turn up the music,” she called to the students on the other side of the room before turning back to her conversation partner.

“Sorry,” she said, grimacing apologetically. She knew her smile always worked. “I'd heard a phone ring, but it wasn't for me.”

"No problem." The man returned her smile. Chip Atwood. Her future construction manager. She had hired him a few weeks ago when it was clear that the expansion of her architecture firm would be successful. In addition to his professional qualifications, Chip was tall, athletic, blond, and had unmistakably well-toned shoulders that brought her firmly back to the present. "I just wanted to congratulate you. Great concept, great planning, well-deserved win. You beat some pretty prestigious competition. And that-"

"I know. I am pretty good", she interrupted him with a wink before he could make a comment about her gender. She wouldn't be able to stomach another ‘And that from a woman’ today. "And my father's name gives the company some gravitas."

“But it were my daughter's courage and vision that have won that contract for us.” Her father slid in next to her, two champagne glasses in his hands, one of which he handed to her. "Congratulations from me too, Vicky. I didn't expect you to crown your start in London with a project like this. You are..."

Victoria stared at her glass. Tiny bubbles bubbled in the golden champagne. They rose. Broke on the surface. Her father's voice faded. The music, the people around her, became a kaleidoscopic mass of twisting shapes and swirling sounds.

A hand rested on her shoulder and she flinched.

The glass shattered in her hand.

“Vicky!”

The sudden silence was louder than anything before.

Victoria whirled around and ran out of the room.