lthrboy

[lthrboy]

my family is fucking addicted to macgyvering and it's becoming a problem. every time something in this house breaks, instead of doing the sensible thing of replacing it or calling someone qualified to fix it, we all group around the offending object with a manic look in our eyes and everyone gets a try at fixing it while being cheered on or ridiculed by the rest.

it's a beautiful bonding activity, but the "creative" fixes have turned our house into a quasihaunted escape room like contraption where everything works, but only in the wonkiest of ways. you need a huge block of iron to turn on the stove. the oven only works if a specific clock is plugged in. the bread machine has a huge wood block just stapled to it that has become foundational to its function. sometimes when you use the toaster the doorbell rings. and that's just the kitchen.

it's all fun and games until you have guests over and you have to lay out the rules of the house like it's a fucking board game. welcome to the beautiful guest room. don't pull out the couch yourself you need a screwdriver for that, and that metal rod makes the lamp work so don't move it. it also made me a terrifying roommate in college, because it makes me think i can fix anything with enough hubris and a drill. you want to call the landlord about a leaky faucet? as if. one time my dad made me install a new power socket because we ran our of extension cords

[lthrboy]

had a dream last night where I took a uquiz called “what do you serve?” and at first the questions were standard but as the quiz progressed they became more and more highly specific to me personally and the answers became more and more similar and I realised the quiz Knew me and was forcing me into being honest by giving me no other option so I tried to click out but it just went to the next question which was “are you the spider? or are you the web?” and it had an option for each but I didn’t click either so it then turned to a text box and I typed “I think I’m the fly” and the quiz paused for a while and then took me to a results page that said “you serve truth” and the description just read “what you know will kill you but you will die laughing” so like. good morning everyone I guess :/

[lthrboy]

Whumper is probably a sadistic scientist who will either use Whumpee as a test animal for some fucked up experiments or better yet, modify them into a human-cyborg super soldier to serve the org/govt

Whumpee who's been on the run from some sort of organization/the government/whatever for a long time, finally getting captured.

Waking up in a facility in the middle of nowhere. Knowing that no one is coming to rescue them.

Whumper leaning over to whisper, "It's all going to be alright, we're going to take care of you now," before tenderly stroking whumpee's hair.

Maybe brainwashing is involved? Will whumpee ever be rescued/ever escape? What are whumper's plans?

[lthrboy]

[lthrboy]

Why I like tormenting the funny ones

(kidnapped whumpee vibes)

They start off making jokes. Watching their face fall into terror as whumper approaches with a knife

The disbelief the first time. "Wait, you're not gonna, wait, wait!" Wriggling away as far as they can in their restraints.

More denial, calling for help way too much until whumper gets fed up and gags them

After holding in a scream of pain and keeping it down to harsh grunting, making a snarky remark. "Is that the best you can do, sweetheart?"

After said snarky remark, whumper turns with that "you did not just say that to me." Face. And whumpee turns away and forces a chuckle, knowing it's about to get 10 times worse.

The groan that they try to make sound like laughter.

Reflexive/compulsive joking that they can't stop, it's a trauma response. And it pisses whumper off. *Cue whumper trying to beat it out of them*

"Shit, whumper, don't kill me all at once." Whumper, picking up a whip. "I warned you not to say one more word."

Whumper torturing them with exquisite slowness so they can watch whumpee's face go from forced smile, to red, swollen-faced breath holding as they try not to cry

"I'm sorry," laughing nervously at first. Changing to crying and begging, "whatever I did, I'm sorry, please!!"

When they're so defeated, panting hoarsely after so much screaming, and they stop smiling. Not daring to speak, even to look at whumper.

Or as they raise their head cautiously, whumpee just stares at whumper, lips quivering, hanging onto the last of their sanity by a thread.

Whumper leaving and whumpee just crumples to the floor, hand over their face, grimacing as they try to recover

[lthrboy]

“Oh where are you? Whumpee whumpee come out, wherever you are. Because if you don’t, I’ll rip sweet caretaker apart”

[lthrboy]

“Follow my finger. No no stop flinching, I’m not going to hurt you anymore, I just need to check to see if you have a concussion”

“…I uh may have hit you a little too hard”

[lthrboy]

My favorite bit of medical whump that I have yet to use in a published fic is the fact that when fluids are administered either under the skin (subcutaneously) on through the blood (intravenously) if they are not at body temp (about 98 degrees Fahrenheit) they register as incredibly cold. Some of you might know this as a lot of you are or have been broke college students and have sold plasma, but even if fluids are at normal room temperature (around 78 degrees Fahrenheit) they feel cold as death in the body and can rapidly lower your core temperature leading to a risk of hypothermia in extreme and usually rare instances. So yeah … use that as you will whump writer 🥰

[lthrboy]

everyone's doomed by the narrative bitch let's get you some fruit

[lthrboy]

Better Me Than You III

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, forced to hurt, threat of death, referenced water boarding, burns, burning, cruel whumper

Whumper didn't let Team Leader rest long. "I was thinking," Whumper said as they dragged an outdoor firepit behind them, "that we should heat things up."

Smallest Teammate could feel Team Leader tense beside them. But Team Leader didn't open their mouth to protest. They knew what Whumper would say, what Whumper would do, if they did.

That didn't stop Smallest Teammate. "Me. Heat things up with me. I'll make it good for you, I promise."

Whumper stopped short, as though considering Smallest Teammate's offer. "I think this is more fun. We always have time to hurt you later." They turned and lit the fire pit.

Smallest Teammate's heart sunk. They opened their mouth to protest once more, but Team Leader grabbed their arm. "It's fine, Smallest Teammate. It's fine." Team Leader's voice was hoarse and rasping.

Guilt filled Smallest Teammate. Team Leader was hurt because of them. Team Leader was hurt by them.

"Cuff them to the chair," Whumper ordered. Seeing Smallest Teammate's hesitation. "Cuff them or I will hurt them. And you won't like what I do. I imagine you will be much more gentle than me."

"It's ok, Smallest Teammate. It's ok." Team Leader rose on shaking legs. They had to do this for Smallest Teammate.

Smallest Teammate slowly, gently guided Team Leader to the chair. They cuffed Team Leader at the wrists and ankles, carefully avoiding pressing on the raw skin. They squeezed Team Leader's shoulders, their words failing them. What could they even say? Where would they even begin?

"Good, now grab the poker." Whumper pointed at the fire poker they had left in the lit fire pit.

Smallest Teammate balked. They couldn't do this. They wouldn't do this.

Whumper rolled their eyes. "If you don't grab the fire poker right now, so help me God, I will shove this poker so far up Team Leader's ass, it will come out the other end."

"I'm getting it!" Smallest Teammate said quickly. They couldn't let Wumper kill Team Leader. The team was coming. They just had to hold out a little longer.

"Poke them with it until I tell you to stop."

Smallest Teammate looked from the poker in their hand to Team Leader, their heart pounding. They couldn't do this. They couldn't do this to Team Leader. Team Leader nodded, as though to reassure Smallest Teammate. Smallest Teammate held their breath as they lunged forward, poker in hand.

Team Leader didn't start screaming until the fourth burn. They had whimpered quietly up until that point. But with each poke after the fourth burn, they screamed. They couldn't help it. Feeling their flesh sear and burn away was more painful than anything else.

But they couldn't beg for it to stop. Couldn't ask Whumper to stop Smallest Teammate. They had to endure for Smallest Teammate. Had to hold on until the rest of the team arrived. They had to.

It was that thought they held onto as Smallest Teammate poked them over and over. As Smallest Teammate rolled the poker down their side neck. And as the darkness mercifully claimed them.

Tags: @aarika-merrill @gala1981 @lthrboy @bookworm7543 @echo-of-umbra

@whump321 @st0rmm @whump-lover-and-reader @corbytheking @acer-whumpstuff @annng567

@defire @artisticdemon @tender-traps @crazytechpersonzreal @orangeduckweed

@st0rmm

[lthrboy]

Heavy Burden III

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, strangulation, blood, cuts, wounds, cruel whumper

"Scream for me, Caretaker," Whumper cooed as they raised their bloody knife once more.

Accomplice had grabbed Caretaker by the throat and strapped them down to a table they had set up in the center of the room. Caretaker had fought and struggled, but Accomplice was much taller and stronger than they were.

Whumper hadn't taken long to start cutting them. The first slice had been shallow and stinging. Caretaker had bitten down on their tongue to keep from crying out. Whumper frowned as they cut Caretaker again, but Caretaker didn't cry out.

Caretaker clamped their mouth shut further as Whumper sliced along their bicep once more. They wouldn't give Whumper the satisfaction. Whumpee had begged and screamed. But it had been for them. Whumpee had begged for Whumper to spare Caretaker. Not themself.

Caretaker had to be strong. They didn't want Whumpee to hear them cry. Didn't want Whumpee to hear their pain. They could be strong for Whumpee. They could bear this heavy burden.

"Scream for me, Caretaker, or you won't like where I start cutting next."

But Caretaker didn't open their mouth. Not once.

Tags: @gala1981 @pretty-little-whump @painsthegame @whump-and-other-things @whumping-llama

@sadist-by-night @genuinelythioehat-is-whump @lilixloveswhump @outlawaries @tiny-feral-arachnid-man

@ash-skylard @me-likey-the-whump @artisticdemon @annng567 @st0rmm

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

[lthrboy]

The SS Warrimoo, a passenger steamship traveling from Vancouver to Australia, was silently knifing its way across the mid-Pacific waters. The navigator had just finished calculating a star fix and handed the results to Captain John DS. Phillips.

The Warrimoo's coordinates were LAT 0º 31' N, LONG 179 30' W. The date was December 31, 1899. "Know what this means?" First Mate Payton announced, "We're only a few miles from the intersection of the Equator and the International Date Line."

Captain Phillips was prankish enough to seize the opportunity to do the nautical feat of a lifetime. He summoned his navigators to the bridge to double-check the ship's position. He altered his course slightly to focus directly on his target. He then altered the engine's speed.

The calm weather and clear night worked to his advantage. At midnight, the SS Warrimoo rested on the Equator, exactly where it had crossed the International Date Line. The ramifications of this odd arrangement were numerous.

The ship's bow was in the Southern Hemisphere, in the middle of summer. The stern was in the Northern Hemisphere, in the midst of winter. The date on the aft portion of the ship was December 31, 1899. The date on the forward half of the ship was January 1, 1900. The ship experienced multiple days, months, years, seasons, and centuries simultaneously.

[lthrboy]

Glitter

(tw: major character death/murder, choking on blood, throat cut, chase, recapture, creepy whumper)

Whumpee’s footsteps slapped against the tile floor. The sound echoed through the dark, empty isles as they gasped for air. Their muscles screamed. Their head pounded. 

They scrambled towards the glow of the exit sign. The eerie red light cast stark, choppy shadows in the darkness, turning mannequins into monsters in their mind as they ran. 

They hardly knew where they were going. Only two days of working here, and Whumper had already found them. They skittered past paints and yarn. Shelves and shelves of decorative paper. The pages sliced sharp lines into their arms as they flew past them, blind, scrambling towards the dim scarlet glow.

It was so close. Just a few steps further.

Whumpee breath caught as Whumper rounded the corner, blocking the end of the aisle. They slid to a half, scrambling backwards so quickly that their wobbling legs crumbled beneath them, sending them flailing down onto the cold tile.

Whumper’s face was cast in shadow, silhouetted by the eerie red light. Somehow, Whumpee knew they were smiling. 

“There you are.”

Whumpee scrambled to their feet, turning back the way they came. An arm locked around their waist, jerking them back.

“No! Let me go! L-let me go!!” They pushed and squirmed away from the hands.

“Ah ah ah…” Whumper teased, gripping tighter as Whumpee thrashed and clawed at their arms. “Dont try to fight me. It won’t do you any good.”

Whumpee gasped as a blade pressed firm against their throat. Their struggling twitched to halt.

“Aw, there you go.” Whumper’s lips were pressed against their ear. “Much better.”

Whumpee was still panting. Every breath pressed against the blade, pushing against it and drawing a trickle of blood. They whimpered, twitching away from the knife. Their voice quivered, hardly a whisper. “P-please. Don’t. Please, Whumper. L-l-let me go.”

Whumper laughed softly. “I told you. No one gets away from me.” They traced the knife to the side of Whumpee’s neck, tip biting into their skin. “You just had to go and test it, didn’t you?”

“I…I’m sorry. Please, Whumper. I’m s-sorry.” They whined, flinching away as the knife cut further in.

“Sorry isn’t good enough.” Whumper’s hand moved from their waist to their forehead, pulling them back against their chest.

Whumpee tried to scream as the knife slid straight in, but their throat wouldn’t make the sound. It convulsed around the blade, cutting it further from the inside. They struggled, but Whumper held them still as searing, hot pain clawed down their windpipe.

Blood started to flow down their throat. They felt it on their skin, but it also slid down toward their lungs, wet and hot, choking them. The slipping, suffocating warmth mirrored on both sides of their trachea. Whumper slid the knife back out. They wheezed, trying to sputter the blood back up.

Whumper released them, and they dropped to their knees, clawing at their neck. Their hands came back covered in back blood. It reflected the glow of the exit sign.

Whumper laughed, taking a step closer. “No no, let me see.”

Whumpee sputtered and coughed, trying to scramble away. Whumper’s hand clamped down on their upper arm, flipping them over. Whumper loomed over them, kneeling down. Reaching out in the darkness.

Whumpee’s hands blindly found the shelves as they scooted backwards. They gripped the first things they could find, a canister of sorts, chucking it at Whumper. Whumper dodged easily, laughing.

“Aw come on, no need to get violent, sweetheart.”

Whumpee sputtered and choked as they grabbed another. The canister broke in their hands at they threw it, showering Whumper in red flecks of shimmering light. The glitter sunk from their air, coating them. 

“Now you’re just making a mess.” Whumper growled. They yanked Whumpee by the ankle, sliding them close. 

Whumpee’s lungs burned. They couldn’t suck down air through the thick, hot blood. They choked and coughed, but more and more poured into their throat, coating every surface. They pushed against the cut as they kicked up at Whumper.

“No. Come here.” Whumper gripped their wrists, pinning them to the ground. They straddled Whumpee, rendering their kicks useless as they gargled, sucking the thick blood further into their lungs.

“Stop fighting me.” They leaned down close. “I want to watch you die.”

.

(tags: @prisonerwhump @mabledonut @whumpawink @heathenwhump @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing )

@wormwriting wouldja look at that. Bam. Glitter. Blood. Choking. Nailed it.

“Where they go hardcore, and there’s glitter on the floor”

[lthrboy]

Skip ahead

Desperate tears already streamed over their cheeks. Whumpee backed up a step, nowhere else to go. The man in front of them effectively blocked off their one escape route. Fighting him wasn't even worth considering. Running wouldn't work. They were cornered in every sense of the word.

"P-please..." The plea was barely more than a puff of air. They tried again, cursing how feeble and pathetic their voice came out: "Please. Don't take me back."

"Oh, love..." Whumper stepped forward and carefully reached out. The grip on their chin however was anything but. Whumpee shuddered when they felt the familiar pattern of bruises forming. "We're just talking, we're barely even talking..." He brushed a thumb up, catching a drop of salt, "And you're already such a mess."

Whumpee couldn't do a thing but give a nod and a sniffle, avoiding the piercing gaze.

With a soft sigh, Whumper let go of them.

"Well, if you don't want me to take you back..." He reached behind him and Whumpee nearly buckled in fear when he revealed the gun. Whumper grabbed them by the neck, keeping them from falling over, keeping them close, and crooned: "I can understand if you want to skip all the pain and suffering. I do."

He teased the gun up, watched as their eyes followed his every moment, noticed how their breathing stopped when he pressed it into the soft underside of their chin.

"We could just," he whispered, "skip ahead? To the main event?"

The gun gave a distinct click, the front sight dug uncomfortably into their skin as he tilted the gun to press the muzzle up, aiming at their brain. "No... No, please."

"I mean, we'll get there eventually, so--"

"No!"

"So you'll come with me."

It wasn't a question. Whumpee swallowed hard, another stream of tears streaking down. "Y-yes..."

The pressure under their chin disappeared. A breath released as if said pressure had been blocking their air.

Another click as the gun switched back to safety, releasing the clasp on their muscles, and Whumper put it back into its holster. The grip on their neck, however, only increased, and he lightly nudged them along.

"Good choice."

-

General whump tag: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @whumpawink @painsandconfusion

@auroragehenna @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop

[lthrboy]

*Whump is a term where fictional characters got hurt (be it physical or emotional), people enjoy whump for various reasons (some use whump as a coping mechanism, some use whump to heal from their trauma, some like whump for sexual reasons, some just like whump for reasons that aren't sexual and some like it for reason that aren't related to personal trauma). You can see whump in a movie, a TV show, a book or a fanfic.

Whumpee refers to characters who are victims / characters who were hurt.

Caretaker refers to characters who come for whumpees' rescue / characters who helps nurse whumpees back to health.

Whumper refers to characters who inflict pain on whumpees.

[lthrboy]

Whumpay (Attack!)

Panic or heart attack implied. You be the judge.

Characters: actual psychopath/ serial killer Whumper, simp Whumpee CWs: restraints, electrocution, male whump, eyeballs (?), murder, it's pretty dark, you have been warned!!

“Push your ankles against the legs of the chair.” He unrolled a length of duct tape. 

Whumpee’s smile dropped. He wrinkled his eyebrows, puzzled, and stared open-eyed at the larger man skeptically. “More?”

“It’s for the thrashing.” He reasoned. “Like I said, you need to be completely still if you’re gonna get high.”

“This is really weird.” Whumpee dismissed. But if this is what it took, fine. He’d go along with it.

Whumper wrapped the tape around his legs and ankles, securing them to the legs of the narrow wooden chair.

Now that his ankles were tethered down in addition to his wrists, Whumpee couldn’t move anything but his head.

“Good, good. You’re a trooper. Getting excited yet?”

“Not really.” Whumpee said flatly. In truth, being tied to a chair had excited him, but certainly not in the way Whumper was inquiring about.

“C’mon. It’ll feel really good once it gets going.” Whumper cracked a smile “Trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

The scholar crossed the room to the couch that was heavy with clutter; books, equipment, and garbage it looked to be. The entire basement had a stinking, foul odor, Whumpee wondered if it was coming from the junk piled high on the sofa.

Whumpee rolling wrists and ankles to loosen the tape securing him to the chair, but they were wrapped snugly in their duct tape cocoons.

“God damn this is uncomfortable. Argghhh! My nose itches and I can’t scratch it.” 

Whumper disregarded Whumpee’s objections. The man grabbed a silver and black case resting on the cluttered couch, popped the latches open and removed a camcorder box. He unfurled a roll of canvas containing a tripod. 

Apprehension settled over Whumpee as he watched from his chair, his anxiety mounting with every passing second. A rancid smell in the air made him recoil. “Can you smell that? It kinda stinks down here.”

I should really stop complaining, Whumpee thought to himself. He didn’t want to annoy Whumper, much less offend him. He considered himself lucky that Whumper had even chosen him, of all people, to assist with his thesis project. 

Thankfully, it seemed Whumper didn’t hear him. He was entirely focused on assembling his recording gear.

Whumpee felt a pit in his stomach. Whether he was being annoying or not, he reminded himself that he had to make his boundaries clear before they did this thing.

“Hey. Hey. Whumper!” he yelled to get Whumper’s attention for the first time. “Remember what I told you, I’m gonna to tap out after twenty minutes. Hard stop then, okay?” Whumpee said emphatically. “Got it?”

“Yeah, sure. Got it.”

Whumper silently loaded a roll of film into the camera, snapping the plastic compartment closed with a click. He pressed the power button and framed Whumpee in the center of the video screen.

“...and now,” Whumper hit the red recording button. “We are officially ready to begin.”

Whumpee’s breathing increased. He had anxiously awaited this moment since he agreed to it days ago. Whumper had been so happy he volunteered to help with his project, he reminded himself that this was a small sacrifice for the greater good, this was the first step towards forging a real friendship. And if he played his cards right, maybe something even more.

He steeled himself and summoned every last ounce of courage from the depths of his being.

“Oh shit, I forgot. Safety first.” Whumper retrieved the object he’d been fingering in his pocket. A short leather strap. “I have to put this in your mouth--”

“What is th--!” Whumpee tried to interject.

“--so you don’t bite your tongue.” 

Whumper already grabbed a handful of Whumpee’s hair and tilted his head back before he could protest. The bound man jerked his head back and instinctively pursed his lips closed. Whumper attempted to push the strap past his lips but they were closed tight.

“Wha — STOP! Stop it!” gasped Whumpee, breath ragged and nerves shaken by the sudden assault. “Fuck. What the hell was that??!”

Shit. Too heavy handed. Impatience always got the best of Whumper.

“Heh, sorry, sorry. ‘M sorry.”

“Sorry?! That was fucked!!”

“I’ll be nice this time. Promise. Here. Now bite.”

Whumpee looked at the man incredulously and sighed, but bit down on the gag obediently. He had to stay in Whumper’s good graces, he’d come all this way. Plus he really didn’t want to bite his fucking tongue off.

“Comfy?”

Whumpee firmly shook his head no.

“Well you look like a million bucks. Ya ready?”

Whumpee’s sigh was muffled by the strap of leather trapped between his teeth. He was completely immoble and incredibly uncomfortable, with absolutely no control of his body beyond his mouth and head. To add to his discomfort, a looming putrid odor hung in the stale basement air and the anticipation of being electrocuted made him nauseous.

His cheeks burned and he prayed Whumper didn’t notice him blushing. Whumpee reminded himself: he was going to be fine, Whumper wouldn’t hurt him, and he was lucky to even be there.

“I’ll start with the calf.” Whumper commented, touching the cattle prod to Whumpee’s leg. His breath audibly quickened.

“Easy. Shh. Relax.”

ZAP

It felt like all of the air, light, and sound had been sucked from the room and replaced with searing pain.

“Mmmmmmph!” His leg jerked upwards involuntarily, if he wasn’t tied to the chair he’d have kneed himself in the jaw. A biting soreness ran from his toes to his hip even after Whumper pulled the cattle prod away.

It was intense, the most blinding agony Whumpee had ever experienced. But now that it was over, Whumpee felt strangely... good?

Whumpee spat the strap from his mouth, and the saliva-coated leather fell on Whumper’s shoulder. The slimy gag slid down the taller man’s shirt like a snail leaving a path of slime, and plopped to the ground unceremoniously.

“Oh shit!!” Whumpee cackled as Whumper rose to stand. “My bad, my bad.” He felt delirious, but amid the chaos of his mind there was a course of energy that left him invigorated. He giggled at the trail of saliva that glistened against the larger man’s black sweater.

Whumper glared at the discarded leather gag on the floor. His eyes shot back to the human filth sitting in front of him. He exhaled slowly. A tempest of rage brewed beneath his calm.

“There is some kind of weird pleasure, I guess.” Whumpee offered, “I see what you mean. But it hurts like frikin’ hell.” Whumpee started laughing again and turned to Whumper. “I wonder what pervs actually use this to get off. Maybe we should think of a safe word.” He giggled.

What, like this was supposed to be some fucking sexual exercise? 

The very concept made Whumper want to gag.

Playtime was over. 

His vision went red. It was time to end this fucker.

Whumper retrieved the roll of tape and wrapped it around Whumpee’s mouth, circling his head once, twice, three times.

The man under him struggled to fight against his motions, bobbing his head and trying to bite at him as he layered his face in duct tape. But the ambush happened quickly, and Whumpee was powerless to stop him.

Whumper felt like all the duct tape in the world couldn’t silence the miserable brat.

The large man rolled the dial on the cattle prod to maximum voltage out of curiosity. Holding the device against Whumpee’s skin, he administered white-hot pain directly into his forearm. The small man heaved in his narrow wooden chair and nearly fell backwards.

Whumpee screamed. He screamed so much that his yells bled into one another. If his mouth were free it would have been the loudest he’d ever shrieked, but under his adhesive gag he could never eke out more than a muffled MMMmph!

Whumper pushed the device deep into the flesh of his arm, stabbing the prongs into him with so much force it nearly drew blood. Whumpee thrashed wildly, the excruciating electric shock traveled up his arm all the way into the deep veins of his neck.

“Mmm. Mmm-mmph!!” Whumpee hummed into the tape that sealed his lips. He awkwardly blinked to get the moisture out of his eyelashes, which were heavy with tears. It was all he could do at this point: blink.This was the only thing he could control in the entire world right now.

“What was that? Use your words, Whumpee.” He grinned wickedly. “You’re crying now? We’ve barely warmed up!”

Whumper took his captive’s chin in his cold hand and tilted it back to get a good look at his face. Tears rolled down Whumpee’s cheeks rapidly and his breathing was rugged and quick. He averted his eyes from the larger man’s intense, hungry stare.   

“Time to come clean, Whumpee. I know you’ve been stalking me all years. The way you’ve injected yourself in the background of my life--” A remorseful tear ran down Whumpee’s cheek.

 “--what, you didn’t think I noticed? It’s not like you were subtle about it. You’re like a fly and shit, your presence is a constant annoying buzz in my ear. So I thought, what’s the best way to kill an insect?”

“Do you know, Whumpee?”

Whumpee groaned.

“Zap ‘em.”

Whumper retrieved a box cutter from his pocket. “Don’t get too excited.” He warned, pressing the blade from its plastic sheath. The knife found the neckline of Whumpee’s shirt where it traveled down his torso, digging into his flesh in places. Whumpee sliced the shirt into jagged strips and let them fall to the ground, one by one. 

Whumper took a moment to admire the pearls of blood that seeped from the shallow gashes he made on Whumpee’s bare torso. He stepped back to ensure everything was in frame of the camera’s viewfinder.

“You only have yourself to blame for this one, Whumpee. I mean who the hell volunteers to get electrocuted?” The scholar grinned wickedly.

He thought they were supposed to be friends, he thought he was helping him with his project…

“I’ve never even been to college. Didn’t even graduate high school, not that I needed to. Did you know that, Whumpee?” Whumper rounded the corner so he was out of Whumpee’s sight, not that he could see much through his watery vision. “I was pretty convincing though, wasn’t I? You didn’t make it easy on me, with you stalking me for so long.” Whumper came back, holding a heavy metal object and thick rubbery wires. “I appreciated the challenge at first.”

He sat the car battery on the floor at Whumpee’s feet.

“But now it’s annoying. So I came up with this solution.” Whumper retrieved a box of cigarettes from his pocket and placed one between his teeth.

“I had to do a little practice with Big Bertha over here.” He said with the unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of his lips. Whumper tapped the car battery with his foot. 

“Winston was fucking old as hell-- you remember old man Winston right? The fucker up the street with the dog that bit me that one time?”

Whumper raised his eyebrows at his captive, silently demanding a response. Whumpee didn’t realize. He nodded his head, sniffling.

“One little zap and boom, he was gone. You wouldn’t believe it.” He shook his head. “Must’ve been like two, maybe three minutes? I don’t know. It was disappointing.” Whumper lit his cigarette.

“But his eyes did shoot out of his face, which was pretty funny.”

Whumpee squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could. His muffled cries intensified, he shook his head violently. Snot ran down his tape-covered chin and he was screaming bloody murder into the sticky adhesive that silenced him.

Whumper’s fingers grazed his hot wet cheek.

“I kept one of his eyes. And you know what I did with the other?” A sinister grin crept across his face.

“Fed it to his dog.”

Whumpee was reduced to a puddle of wailing mucus.

“All that to say that the old man actually did teach me a little something about electricity. So I went to the library-- like a real goddamn scholar-- and I did a little research on how to control this shit. Check it out: this is an alternator and this one is a voltage regulator.” He presented the two small devices. 

“You want to know why I went to all this trouble?” He took a drag and exhaled a plume of smoke.

“Because, Whumpee, I don’t wanna just zap you like a mosquito. I want a real show.”

“And you’re going to give me one hell of a show, too, because this gear was fuckin’ expensive.” He glanced at the bifold doors to the closet. “At least Winston picked up the tab.” 

Whumper crouched down to assemble the parts of his machine, leaving Whumpee helplessly taped to the chair, awaiting his impending doom. Tears welled in his eyes and he was silently thankful that they blurred his vision almost entirely, at least he wouldn’t have to watch as his life was literally fried out of him. All he could see through the haze in his eyes was the steady, rhythmic pulsing of the camera’s red recording light.

Whumper rose to his feet, his full focus fixed on Whumpee, who shivered in place.

“Now then,” he declared, ashing his cigarette. “Let’s get started for real this time.”

[lthrboy]

Whumpuary 2024 Day 8

8. (Jan 15-16) Muffled Screams / Hostage / "You look awful" 

cw captive whumpee, hostage, bound/gagged, defiant whumpee, intimate whumper 

“Your screaming is really starting to get on my nerves.” 

Whumpee’s eyes narrowed into a poisonous glare. It was kind of cute, really—those big doe eyes shooting daggers at Whumper. As if there was anything they could do while tied to the chair. They made another angry, muffled noise behind the gag that sounded like it was supposed to be a sentence. 

“What was that?” Whumper teased, stopping in front of Whumpee and smirking down at them. “I can’t understand you, honey.” 

Their hostage screamed again, pulling uselessly at their restraints. This was fun already; Whumper wondered how much more fun it would be if the little spitfire could talk. 

They circled behind the chair and began untying the gag, shushing Whumpee when they flinched away. “I’m not going to hurt you. Not yet, anyway.” 

Whumpee jerked their head away as the scarf was pulled from their mouth. “Untie me right the fuck now!” they demanded. 

“Fiesty,” Whumper commented with amusement. They ruffled Whumpee’s hair before walking leisurely back in front of them. “You certainly are brave—or is it reckless, maybe? Don’t you know you’re my hostage?” 

“If you were going to kill me, you would have done it already,” they growled.  

“I don’t want to kill you. But there’s other ways for me to shut you up. Teach you to obey.” 

“I’m not afraid of you.” Still glaring, still struggling, but the poor thing looked exhausted. Whumper could see the tired look in their eyes, and the carefully guarded fear. Their clothes were dirty and rumpled, hair messy, and a bruise was forming on one of their forearms. 

Whumper raised an eyebrow. “You look awful.” 

The comment earned them an annoyed huff this time. “You just kidnapped me, how am I supposed to look?” 

“Listen,” Whumper said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose. “I’m just waiting on your guys to give me the money, okay? And then I'll let you go. So just chill the fuck out until then.” 

“Untie me.” 

“What, do you think I'm crazy?” Whumper asked. “No, you’re staying right there, safely restrained, until I'm done with you.” 

Those big, doe eyes looked up at Whumper, imploring now rather than defiant. “Please?” 

“I’m not falling for that.” 

“Worth a shot,” Whumpee said with a shrug. “Just so you know—as soon as I get free, I’m gonna kill you.” 

Whumper laughed. They placed their hands on Whumpee’s wrists and leaned over them, pressing a gentle kiss to their cheek despite Whumpee’s protest. With a grin, they murmured, “Oh honey, I can’t wait to see you try.”