#domestic degradation

[radioactivewisdom]

The village cannot coexist alongside the nuclear family. Women often talk about how lonely being a wife and mother is, but that’s exactly the point. Isolation IS the purpose. Seclude two emotionally disturbed adults who will then groom their own children into being just like them. Parents are the first to snap at you “don’t tell me how to raise my kids!” Okay, then don’t expect me to help because all you really want is a free babysitter, and not just for the kids.

Single and childfree women face the most pressure to “help” families. In other words, be the heterosexually inspired breeding programs clean up crew. When mommy and daddy need to blow off steam they get to berate you. Legitimate involvement from villagers begins before children get here. They’d get to say “you’re in an unhealthy relationship and have no business bringing children into it” or “you’re already overwhelmed with one, don’t get pregnant again.” How well do you think that will go over? Even more so, you need to contribute more than having offspring. When was the last time a complaining set of parents cooked dinner for their aging neighbor? What about driving a sick coworker to a doctor’s appointment?

People, especially women are known for abandoning all others the moment they catch feelings. Once it’s legally binding and babies are born, you hardly see them again. This is yet another ploy to extract emotional labor from women. Which apparently is a major problem due to patriarchy, except when women do it to each other. The way coupled women feel as if they’re unappreciated and taken advantage of, is a single woman’s reality on all fronts. This world is already set up to benefit the nuclear family. Tax brakes and social validation aren’t enough. They should be able to have as many children as they want, regardless of the circumstances, and never struggle a day in their lives.

Raising children is hard when doing so on a planet filled to capacity with dumb degenerates, but whose fault is that? Generation after generation have done the same, have sex and reproduce without abandon, then scream about the consequences. The world is a scary place for children because of the families they’re born into. I’m not going to pitch in so a spineless mother can sign her daughter up for the same fate.

Family life is going exactly as planned, your happiness is supposed to come from filling a quota. Any other expectations came from your imagination. Marriage and reproduction have never been about romance and love. It’s about keeping up the flow of new bodies for political purposes, aka, natalism. If mommy and daddy need help, they can go to those just like themselves. Too bad the mythos of selflessness after parenthood is inaccurate, and they’d rather pop out another kid than help one that isn’t theirs.

All family units are out for themselves first, they admit this. They’re all after our planets limited resources and don’t seem to keen on sharing. Otherwise they’d already be attempting communal living and offering their help to each other free of cost. Why not split up the domestic duties equally instead of wasting time chastising women who freed themselves? If you want my help it’s going to come in the form of honesty. Until then, keep holding each other hostage under the guise of “family.” We all know what happened to women in the past who didn’t comply. The village serves one purpose, control.

[mysoginichumiliatord]

You deserve to have your cunt ignored while your ass is being fucked and made fun of for being so wet from it

[bazpango]

“You remembered.”

“Of course I did.”

“…is there cake?—”

“For God’s, gh, c’mere.”

[sketch]

[3-2-whump]

Tear-Filled Noncon (Mutual!)

it's a working title, I'm bad with titles

Continuation of this idea

Art here

TW/CW: because this is a continuation of the previous noncon idea, a lot of the same warnings will apply. Rape/Noncon, intimate whumper, obsessed whumper, domestic violence (including brief head trauma), some degradation, inner thoughts that go a bit dark. If I missed anything, pls let me know!

He turned the key slowly in the lock, opened the door as quietly as he could, and closed it equally as carefully behind him. Whumpee’s eyes swept over the living room. The apartment was quiet and dark, dimly illuminated only by the city lights in the window. More importantly, the door to the master bedroom was closed, with no light peeking out from underneath. Whumpee sighed in relief; he’d gotten away with it.

The next breath caught in his throat as he was body-slammed into the door. A large hand pinned both wrists above his head when he tried to defend himself from the unseen force. The other hand yanked his head back by his hair, eliciting a surprised yelp of pain. “Where were you?” a warm breath hissed in his ear.

Whumpee squirmed under his master’s punishing grasp. “I-I can explain-”

“Like hell you can!” The hand in Whumpee’s hair drove his head forward and smashed it against the door. Sharp pain unfurled in the back of his skull as stars danced across his blurry vision. “Your curfew is midnight at latest, and it’s nearly two in the morning,” Whumper's angry voice thundered past the incessant throbbing in his head. The hand on his wrists tightened into a bruising grip. “So tell me-” Whumpee cried out in pain as the hand in his hair pulled harder. “Where were you?”

“You’re hurting me!” Whumpee gasped.

“Well you’re hurting me!” Whumper let go of him at once, only to throw him to the floor of the entrance. Whumpee landed hard on his side. He reflexively tried to curl into a ball to protect himself, but within moments the man had flipped him onto his back to better climb on top of him. A loud ripping sound punctuated Whumpee’s whimpers in the darkness as his shirt was torn clean in two. “Coming home late at night, with no regard to my rules, and smelling like a cheap motel –wait…” Whumper’s eyes zeroed in on a necklace of hickeys that rested on the young man’s collarbone. He slapped him, once, then twice, then again. “Who gave you those hickeys?” Slap! “Who were you sleeping with?!” Slap! “Well, answer me, whore!”

Whumpee shook his head, the tears streaming down his face as he continued to beg for mercy. “Clearly you’ve forgotten who you belong to,” Whumper huffed. “No problem, this just means I’ve got to remind you!” He brusquely unbuttoned Whumpee’s pants and pulled them and his boxers down the young man’s trembling thighs. Whumpee’s pleas of “no, no, stop, please, stop” went entirely ignored as he was flipped onto his stomach. His begging took on a frantic pitch as his body started visibly shaking. He’d never been taken from behind before, and this new position made him panic.

“You don’t deserve to be fucked like a person, so you’ll take it like the wanton little bitch you are!”

“No, no, stop, please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, no, I’m sorry!”

“Shut up!” Whumpee wailed as his hips were wrenched up from the floor and Whumper entered him without any prep or lube. The man was not gentle, far from it. Quick, desperate thrusts punctured him deeper than he was used to. It was the roughest he had ever been with him, unquestionably, feeling less like having sex and more like being torn in half. Stubbornly enough, Whumpee’s body reacted to these more intense sensations all the same, especially when the man on top of him continuously slammed into that sweet spot inside of him.

“Look at you,” Whumper commented derisively, a hint of bitterness in his gravelly voice. “Hard as a rock already, you slutty thing! You’d be happy with just anyone’s cock inside your ass, wouldn’t you?” Whumpee’s cheeks colored in shame as a shaky moan interrupted his pleas. “But you shouldn’t be; you’re mine!”

He felt a thin, warm fluid trickle past the cock pummeling his hole. The man above him crushed him further into the carpeted floor. “I own this ass, and it is mine to fuck,” he screamed, “you got it?! No one else’s, just mine!”

He didn’t have to see behind him to know he was bleeding. At least it makes Master’s thrusts a little less painful, he thought. That feeling of morbid relief alone made him cry even harder. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Why am I not enough for you?!” Whumper’s voice wavered with emotion. His angry thrusts turned sloppier as he continued. “Damn it, and damn you! I gave you everything you could ask for; I gave you everything you could have needed! I fed you, clothed you, made you into the man you are today, so why?! What are they giving you that I’m not?!” The man’s voice caught on the last question. Whumpee felt small wet drops of liquid fall onto the nape of his neck. Tears? He realized with horror that Whumper was crying as he was raping him.

“M-Master, I-I’m sorry, please-”

“I said, shut up!” He pulled Whumpee back by the hips until he was flush with the older man’s pubic bone, burying himself to the hilt and spilling deep inside him. They stayed in that position for an uncomfortably long time. Suppressed sniffling sounds filled the entryway, and Whumpee knew they weren’t all coming from him. Whumper eventually pulled out, leaving his hole gaping and obscenely oozing cum. He settled on the floor next to Whumpee and repositioned them both onto their sides. “I love you, boy,” he murmured as he pulled him closer to spoon him. “I don’t enjoy hurting you, boy.” The tension gradually left Whumpee’s body as he accepted the forced cuddles. The man planted a kiss on the back of his ear, right above the barcode tattoo that marked him indelibly as property. The kiss was wet and tinged with sadness. “So why do you make me hurt you?”

-

Because what we do –no, what you do to me- is not supposed to feel good. How could it feel good? I didn’t want it, I don’t want it, and I will never want it, so why does my body betray me every time? What if it’s because you’re right? What if this really was my true purpose? To be nothing more than a pair of holes to fill and a body to break under yours? What if I am all those names you call me because I think this feels good?

And, what if I act out, do all the things I know will test your patience and make you rough and uncaring so that it finally hurts? So that it finally doesn’t feel good, and I don’t have to ask if my body and my mind are on the same page about me being violated? What if that’s why I make you hurt me? Would you stop? Would you hurt me more? Would it even matter?

-

That is everything Whumpee wanted to say. Instead, through a throat ripped raw from screaming, he rasped, “I don’t know.”

[littlebunbunn]

On the floor where worthless cunts like me belong

[spreadmysushi]

Kitchen sex is underrated

Dining table? Island table, from behind to missionary, so easy to see the way his cock pulses into my pussy, juices leaking onto a freshly cleaned table, dinner forgotten on the stove.

Pinning my body onto the cold marble surface while he takes my breasts to warm his pretty cock.

Pouring the wine I had set out to drink onto my body and following its taste wherever it trickles down.

Drops of wine slowly flow down my stomach down to my parts, and he eats it up like the good little brat he is while I pull on his frazzled hair. He likes red wine more than white wine, because the white wine he likes only I can give him

I can give it only when he extracts pleasure from my helpless body.

He slowly grinds his hard length onto the rounded corner of the table trying his hardest restrain touching himself because he'd know how disappointed I'd be with him.

He's smart enough to know only I cum, and him too if he did do a good job. He'd be eating that night.

It looks like he did a great job.

"Do you want dinner now?"

"What are you talking about? Didn't I just have my dinner?"

[hopelesslywanderingone]

tell me you still want to hear all about my day and the hard working woman I was, but you want to hear it from me while I’m on my knees at your feet

[mysoginichumiliatord]

Doormat

I am looking for a a very submissive girl, a doormat.

A girl with very low to no self esteem that will always look up to me for validation. A girl with low to no self respect that will humiliate and degrade herself just for my pleasure not matter how humiliating and disgusting she might think it is.

One doormat, that will want to give up control, will ask how to dress, what to wear. Ask authorization to use the bathroom, shower or touch herself.

One doormat that will be glad to be my urinal, having me using her tits, ass and body as a stress relieve doll. One that will expose herself when told to and always ready to be fingered or fuck in her three holes.

One doormat, that will get her cunt dripping from humiliation, licking my shoes when I get back home and offering her ass and tits to me to use and abuse at my will.

Any girl like that around?

[littlebunbunn]

Daddy says the only place I should be is on my knees, most importantly with my face at his feet (I agree with him)

[littleenbykitten]

Please send my rape threats asks.

[mysoginichumiliatord]

Pulling out the sub tits and starting to pinch and twist the nipples while she is trying to explain something

[dahmerreject]

Red Bottom(s)👠

[serickswrites]

Idea : whumpee who is always joyous and kind to others despite never receiving kindness themselves

Hello @lockedwith-care that is a great idea! Please enjoy! And please ask for anything you would like to see written or more of!

Warnings: degradation, emotional abuse, mention of suicidal ideation, physical abuse, bruises, burns, domestic violence

Whumpee pulled the sleeves of their sweater lower, making sure the cigarette burns on their forearms weren't visible. They checked their make up in the bathroom mirror. Whumpee had spent a good portion of their morning trying to cover up the bruises on their face and their black eye. It looked like the make up was holding up. They sighed, their bone-weary exhaustion filling them along with the unspeakable sadness.

Whumpee was trapped with Whumper. Every time Whumpee plucked up the courage to try and leave, Whumper would threaten to kill themself and Whumpee felt guilty and would stay. Would stay despite how much Whumper hit them. Would stay despite how Whumper would extinguish their cigarettes on Whumpee's arm. And would stay despite wanting desperately to be free.

"You are mine forever, Whumpee. You're not going anywhere. Who would want a stupid, ugly slut like you?" Whumper had sneered that morning before slamming the door closed.

Whumpee had taken a moment to cry because Whumper was right. No one would want them. They were trapped. Forever. After allowing themself a five minute pity party, Whumpee knew they had to get up and get ready for work.

As Whumpee washed their hands, shaking the image of their perfectly made up face from their mirror, they plastered on their best customer service smile. "No one will ever know," they muttered as they left the bathroom.

"Whumpee! What took you so long, we're swamped!" Coworker shouted as Whumpee returned.

"Sorry, Coworker, won't happen again." Whumpee's smile dropped a little as they ducked their head.

"It better not, get your butt up here now!"