#employee whumpee

[honeyrut]

The violent boss (oneshot)

idk how to do warnings but as the name suggests it contains violence

The employee was cowering in his place feeling smaller the more his boss yelled at him. His boss was furious at him for making a mistake, this one mistake.

“I- I’m sorry!” He finally spoke. “It won’t happen again!” He continued. Somehow, his apology made his boss even more angry.

“sorry? you’re sorry. why can’t your stupid damn brain understand that my valuable package is gone! GONE!” the boss yelled in response.

The boss took a deep breath to calm himself down, then he said “and it’s your fault”.

his words were so calm, yet so threatening that made the employee shiver and take two steps back, he felt in danger.

“B- boss, I did what I could, I work hard everyday, y- you know that!” He tried to explain himself.

“You didn’t work hard enough WHEN I NEEDED IT THE MOST!” the boss replied as he got up from his desk, approaching his employee.

“Do you know how much money I lost you piece of shit?” he said as he walked towards his employee who was going backwards in fear, until he got stopped by his boss’s coffee table.

“P- please, I didn’t mean to-! I- I swear!” he said in panic, his boss is starting to really scare him.

and his instinct was right.

The boss held him from his shirt and started beating him and then slamming his face to the table multiple times.

The employee’s screams and pleas didn’t phase him, he kept on letting out his anger blindly, until the sound of his telephone ringing brought him back to reality, that’s right, someone was supposed to visit him today.

“Oh shiit–!” he cussed as he was looking at the bloody mess he did, and then looked at his handwatch, he barely have time.

“quickly! think!!” he ordered himself in panic as he’s holding the now unconscious employee. If anyone sees this he won’t just lose his status, he’ll lose everything.

Good thing no one is allowed to this floor, only if they had an appointment, so nobody should’ve heard what happened just now.

“I’m not done with you” he threatened the employee as if he could hear him.

He took his scissors and started to cut some cloth pieces from the employee’s shirt and used them to tie him up and gag him, he then took him to the storage room that is on the same floor and closed the door.

He went back to his office and cleaned the mess as fast as he could, and then the phone rang again, this time he was able to respond.

The visitor had arrived, sat down, then she and the boss started talking about their partnership and how glad the visitor is to be working with such a great fancy company.

“Thank you for your time, we’ll be doing more business with you sometime soon” the visitor said.

“no, thank you! It was my pleasure” the boss replied politely.

as the visitor was about to leave she noticed the messed up coffee table.

“oh this? I fell down on it today, could you imagine? haha” the boss explained as he scratched his nose which made the visitor notice his bruised knuckles.

“ah, I see” she replied with a smile “be careful next time!” she continued.

she left quickly because what she saw was definitely suspicious. She speed-walked towards the elevator and as she pressed the button she heard a sound.

a muffled sound.

She went to the source of the sound, and as she was about to open the door, she got cut off by the sound of heavy steps behind her which made her turn around quickly.

“snooping around isn't something you should do if you want to mountain a partnership”

“oh! excuse me, I thought I heard something” she explained politely.

“that’s just my dog, he was misbehaving today and I had to lock him up”

“I- I’m not a dog owner but isn’t it abusive to–”

“looks like your elevator has arrived, better catch it quickly before it goes down again” he interrupted her with a smile, a clearly fake smile.

“r- right.. thank you..” the visitor nervously replied and went to the elevator quickly.

Once she left the boss opened the storage room door and looked at the beaten, clearly terrified employee.

“Now, where were we?”

-------------------------

Bonus drawing:

[whumpsoda]

Seeing Me in You - Unboxing

Masterlist

cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, institutionalized slavery, conditioned/brainwashed whumpee

——————

Ever so anxiously fearful, he had safely arrived to his new home. After so long of training and treatment, he had been prepared to perfection for his purpose. He was going to finally be put to use.

His trip to delivery had proved painful, even if he was used to dealing with common afflictions. Such a tight cage was unfavorable for his hulking frame, and the constant, numerous shakes and bumps of the truck formed noticeable bruises over his skin, and a sour throbbing in his head.

Thankfully, 374629 wasn’t meant to look presentable. Especially not pretty. He knew he wasn’t, having been utterly made sure of it. Not average looking, even, but he was never meant to be. He certainly was not a romantic, nothing anyone would purchase depending on his level of attraction.

Once set to the ground below his master’s doorstep, he made a point not to listen into the muffled conversation mushing together like cotton clouds above him. Reducing it to a buzz in the back of his mind, he kept his brain nice and blank. His belly still whirled in a mixture of terror and excitement to be inches away from his owner, and minutes from finally being introduced to them.

He could clearly hear as the employees transporting him finally left, leaving him alone with his owner. Leaving him to begin his new life.

374629 froze rigid as light began cracking and seeping into his crate, flooding his face with warmth and blinding brightness. On instinct his eyes shut and wound tight, body curling into itself further.

He hoped his master would be a good master. Didn’t everyone? Every master would be good of course, he had to be grateful to have any master at all. He was lucky. Maybe they would be just like his handlers in the facility. He couldn’t help but wish they were. As much as he was in no place to have preferences, he would have liked the familiarity.

But as his master ever so carefully opened his box, revealing more and more of his face, 374629 couldn’t help but on instinct catch a tiny look. And his master was frowning.

It was obvious he was attempting to hide it, lips curling up ever so slightly, almost unnoticeably so. The fake, half smile failed to meet his solemn, moistening eyes that glittered in the light. Not only was he obviously unhappy with his delivery, but his master was crying.

As 374629 turned back away, he could only hope it was his pet’s unsavory predicament that he found so foul.

Covered in his own grime, tears and sweat, boxers shriveled and dirty, his burly figure was contorted every which way inside of his box. His collar wasn’t even a nice leather, rather cheap and itching raw, red marks over his neck.

Maybe his master had never ordered a boxie before. Maybe he didn’t realize his pet would arrive so disheveled.

“S- sorry,” the man sniveled, wiping his eyes with clammy knuckles, “This is just… a lot. More so for you, of course.” 374629 could sense the slightest of a soft smile in his voice, pulsing warmth through his pet’s butterfly-filled belly. 

374629 didn’t know if he was meant to respond. He knew his rules well, repeating one specifically like a mantra in his mind. Do not speak unless spoken to, he told himself, over and over again like the handlers had. But he’d never had someone, let alone a person, apologize to him. Apologize! How could he possibly know what to do?

“Ye- yes, sir.” He squeaked out, meek and shaky. He winced, expecting a quick and burning shock to the throat for his misbehavior - hesitating and stuttering - but, while no longer wearing his training collar, such a punishment never came. 

Eyes peeking open once again, 374629 fixated his vision on the wood paneling of his crate. Pets are never allowed to look their master in the face, he told himself, both reminding him of the rules and silently chastising himself for having the urge to do so a second time. He hoped his owner had noticed his previous mistake of doing so, so that he could receive needed discipline for such unacceptable behavior.

“Hmmm… how about we get you up and out of your box, okay?” His master commanded, although spoken strangely. As if it wasn’t a command, rather a question, but 374629 knew very well that it was. Commands were one thing he was good at knowing. “Unless you feel more comfortable in there, then-,”

Before his master could continue, 374629 swiftly and clumsily stumbled from the confines of his box, plopping to his knees beside it. Again he fixed his gaze somewhere beside his master, this time the concrete floor of the hallway, as much as he wished he could look to the man for approval.

“Oh.” 

The pet tensed. Did he do something wrong? He failed to discern an emotion from his master’s lack thereof, causing his stomach to quease with uneasiness. 

“That’s okay. That’s good, yeah.” The pet could have sighed in relief. “Now, can I ask you a question?”

374629 tensed once again. Another question. He was so terribly confused. Why was his master asking him? Permission, even? It had to be a trick. A test, to see how well he’d been trained, an easy on at that. 

“A master does anything they so desire.” He neatly recited, a smile nearly tugging at his lips. 

He was being such a good boy. Back at training he would have received a quick and concise good by his handler, and the thought of praise, no matter how little and insignificant, could have him practically drooling.

For a moment, his master paused.

“I guess I should’ve expected that.” He whispered, more so to himself than his pet. His tone almost shone disappointment to his words, a realization that could have brought rich bile flooding his pet’s mouth. “I just wanna know, um, what’s your designation?”

He didn’t even need to think to formulate a reply. “WRU, facility 034, Guard Dog 374629.” He recited on the instant, words rolling off his tongue with perfected memorization. His designation was beat to memory, coming completely and entirely natural to him. In the whole interaction, that was one thing he was sure of.

He heard his master swallow, thick with saliva that danced down his throat. “Guard dog?”

“Yes, sir.” He responded, without falter, and utilizing his deep, low chords.

“Me too.”

——————

Masterlist

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @3-2-whump @taterswhump

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[love-me-a-lotta-whump]

白暮のクロニクル - Hakubo No Chronicle - Whump List - 🇯🇵

Whumpee: Yukimura Kai played by Kamiyama Tomohiro

Synopsis: Fushiki, a newbie employee from the Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare who is assigned to the department to work alongside Yukimura Kai, an 88-year-old vampire detective who still looks incredibly young due to his immortality. Together, they will investigate a series of murders by the “Ram Killer” that have been occurring every Christmas in the year of the Ram over a period of 70 years. (MDL)

Genre/Tags: Vampire, Cop/Crime, Supernatural, Superpower, Stabbed, Captive/Hostage, Collapsed, On The Run/Field Medicine, Beaten, Constant Whump, Little to No Romance

Watch On: DramaCool, KissAsian

WARNING: POSSIBLE SPOILERS BELOW

1.01 : throat slashed, collapsed, stabbed, concern for him ::: knife still in his torso (semi comical?) ::: someone exposed him to the sun, concern for him, shaking, burnt face (healing quickly) ::: manhandled, thrown to the ground, in pain

1.02 : in an interrogation room, exposed to the sun, curling in on himself, shaking in pain ::: pushed down onto a desk, struggling ::: stabbed (into a vest so no consequences) ::: cutting his arm, bleeding, slapped

1.03 : none

1.04 : protecting someone, hit with a baseball bat multiple times, fell to the ground, hit in the face with the baseball bat, writhing, concern for him ::: face bandaged ::: ripping off his bandage, concern for him

1.05 : (flashbacks: arm amputated, barely conscious, shaky breathing, drinking blood, collapsed ::: asleep, bandaged, looked after, trying to sit up, startled, in shock ::: jumped out of a moving truck, on the run, stumbling, collapsed, concern for him, looked after, hunted, scared, hiding ::: hunted, on the run, stumbling, exhausted, stumbling, hit ::: growing weaker, concern for him, bloodthirsty, weak, cornered, collapsed, concern for him ::: woke up restrained on a table (strapped to it), struggling, scar reveal, manhandled, in shock, cut with a scalpel, screaming ::: asleep, woke up, scared, scar reveal, in shock), telling someone about everything that happened to him, (flashbacks: pushing a loved one away, concern for him, emotional ::: in shock, shaking, throwing up) emotional, concern for him

1.06 : heavy breathing, sweating, concern for him ::: hallucinating, stressed, concern for him, looked after ::: fought, hit in the head, collapsed, kicked ::: hit by a truck, thrown, eye roll, passed out

1.07 : woke up in the hospital, bandaged, arm and neck braced, heavy breathing, struggling to sit up, angry, concern for him ::: arm in a sling, face still bandaged, took the sling off, collapsed, concern for him, helped to walk ::: helped to walk, stumbling ::: weak, needing support to walk, stumbling, growing weaker, fell to his knees, concern for him, hallucinating, concern for him ::: taking his bandages off, emotional outburst

1.08 : shot at

1.09 : fought, concern for him, emotional, traumatic flashbacks (rlly just images)

1.10 : concerned for someone ::: panicked, desperate ::: jumped out of a truck, hit by a car, collapsed

1.11 : helped to walk, caring for someone over himself, weak, black eye ::: limping ::: visibly unwell, face red, limping, heavy breathing, concern for him, stumbling, growing weaker, dizzy, heavily lidded eyes, collapsed, heavy breathing, growing weaker, starting to pass out, helped to stand, helped to walk, struggling to walk, half collapsed ::: in shock ::: arm cut off, knocked unconscious, collapsed ::: dragged while unconscious in front of a loved one, concern for him ::: woke up, weak, concern for him, concerned for someone, helped to stand, weak, stumbling, collapsed, concern for him, fought, slashed in the stomach, fought, hit across the head with a pipe, bleeding, beaten, weak, trying to protect someone, stabbed in the leg, slashed with a scalpel, collapsed, concern for him, emotional ::: exhausted

1.12 : not feeling well, eyes rolling back into his head, slowly losing consciousness, collapsed, concern for him ::: woke up in the hospital, concern for him ::: in physical rehab, struggling to walk, collapsed, concern for him, helped to get into a chair, weak, upset, crying ::: limping ::: emotional, angry, crying, collapsed, concern for him, helped to walk ::: semi carried, collapsed, weak, emotional, passed out

———+———

MORE WHUMP LISTS >>> {x}

[kabie-whump]

♡ Febuwhump Day 17: Hostage Situation ♡

@febuwhump

Content: Kidnapping, blood, bondage, neglectful team, ransom, whumper turned caretaker

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"You might as well just let me go. They're not coming."

Whumper continues shuffling cards, not looking at Whumpee. "You keep saying that. How can you be so sure?"

"Your asking price is too high."

"Please. Don't try to tell me that your little team is broke. I know that's not true."

"They're not broke. But they won't pay all that just for me. They won't even pay half of that. You're wasting your time. And your chains." Whumpee looks down at their own body, at the way they're bound by miles of chains to the point where they can't move an inch. "Seriously, is all this really necessary?"

"I don't know what you're capable of, and I would rather not find out."

"Hm. Fair enough. Would you believe me if I promised that I'm harmless?"

"No."

"Worth a shot."

They go quiet for a while, the only sounds being Whumper's cards shuffling against the table and the steady drip of blood hitting the floor from Whumpee's injuries. An hour passes before Whumper speaks again.

"You really think they won't pay up?"

"Not for me. Maybe if you'd taken Leader..."

Whumper scoffs. "If I was powerful enough to capture Leader I wouldn't need to be taking hostages for cash in the first place."

"Yeah."

Whumpee's voice is getting softer and more slurred by the second. Whumper had noticed the change happening, but that last word was just pitiful. Whumper stands, going over to check on their hostage. They'd gone pale and the puddle of blood under their chair had grown significantly.

"You're not doing too hot, are you?" Whumper asks, squatting in front of Whumpee.

Whumpee shakes their head.

"At this rate you'll bleed out before anyone comes to save you."

"They're not coming," Whumpee says again, their voice still weak.

Whumper realizes with a start that Whumpee is tearing up. Not in the way that they did when Whumper had roughed them up for the camera. That had just been a pain response. This is genuine emotional distress.

"You're upset."

"Of course 'm upset, asshole," Whumpee slurs, the tears falling. "The fuck do you think I am?"

"Good to see you've still got your fire. But there's no reason to be upset. You're going to be fine."

"Fuck off."

"I mean it. Let's go over your options, hm? One: Your team comes for you and pays your ransom and you get to go home. Two: Your team comes for you, kills me, and you get to go home. Three: Your team doesn't come for you, and you get to stay here with me. You're going to survive no matter what."

"You told them you'd kill me if they don't come before tommorow."

"Yes, well, I was hoping to inspire a sense of urgency. Doesn't seem to have worked. I could kill you, I guess, but I'm starting to get the impression that you may be more useful then that. If your friends abandon you here, that may put you in a position where you're willing to give me some information about them. Saves me having to torture someone for it. Besides, one of my employees just kicked it so I'm in the market for new blood."

"You want me to... work for you?"

"Again, I could kill you instead if you're not going to be useful to me. I'm still deciding."

"I'd be a waste of resources. I'm not good for anything." Whumpee starts to shiver, the chains making soft clinking sounds.

"You believe that? Is that why you think they're not coming for you?"

Whumpee nods.

Something inside Whumper cracks just a little as they stare at Whumpee - pale and trembling with silent tears leaving tracks in the blood and dirt on their face.

"Alright. Let's get you stitched up. You're not bleeding out on my watch. I really don't have the energy to dispose of a body tonight."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Next >

[whumper-whimsy]

@augusnippets day 23

massage/wiping away tears/gentle touch

Conditioned Whumpee, BBU-adjacent, pet whump, nudity, drug mention

Written tired, not proofread

°

Caretaker walked into the back of the facility slowly, eyes scanning the kennels lining the walls. He shivered, put off by the conditions these people were kept in.

Humans were in each kennel, stripped naked save for a collar. They ranged in age and appearance, each of the "pets" having a sheet with all their information.

God, Caretaker hated this place. He knew it was all legal, and it was slowly becoming normalized, but the idea of human pets was disturbing.

One of the employees walked over cheerfully, holding her clipboard. "Hello, there, are you interested in adopting today?"

"Yes," Caretaker replied, voice even and level.

"Well, that's just amazing! What are you looking for today? We have a wide selection of gorgeous girls and boys ready for a new home!"

Caretaker cleared his throat uncomfortably, glancing around. "Who's been here the longest?"

"Oh, Whumpee," the lady responded, starting off towards a kennel on the left wall. "Well, we brought this guy in a long time ago. He was living on the streets, addicted to dugs, poor thing." She flipped through papers on her clipboard, tapping one with a pen. "Even after extensive training, he really struggles with social interactions. That's why he's been here so long."

Caretaker looked into the cage, watching the human huddled in the corner, shaking. "I'll take him."

"We recommend a visit—"

"No need, give me the papers."

•••

Caretaker got Whumpee home, watching as the frail boy huddled on the floor. Caretaker reached down. "Hey, bud... you okay down t—"

Whumpee flinched hard, his breathing quick and panicked.

"Oh, hey, hey. It's okay." Caretaker soothed, holding his hand out.

He delicately stroked whumpee's cheek, paying attention as the boy leaned into his touch. "Its okay, baby. You're safe now, I've got you."

[justwhumptypethings]

tw: heavy objectification, conditioning, torture, mention of limb death

art piece whumpee.

strung up and injured and hurt to look pretty and literally exist as an art piece in a gallery.

their arms are folded, intertwined with their legs so that their bony arm is twisted around their left leg, the other under the right, the right leg splayed out and upwards farther. their knuckles go red and their body suffers long term damage for being kept in a stress position like that for so long.

they lost feeling a long time ago. When they eat, they get spoonfed by one of the employees at the gallery. People gather around to watch and it becomes part of the art because the employee has to wear something that evokes whatever morbid image they think it’s displaying.

they get let out twice a day- before and after opening and closing- to use the bathroom, and otherwise they’re constantly strung up. their body is in a constant stress position, and both of their shoulders have been dislocated to achieve it for a long, long time. their vocal cords were also cut. whumper would have just cut their tongue, except they thought that had value to add to the piece, in whumpee licking their scabbed chapped lips, or getting their jaw pulled open. they decided to cut their vocal cords instead.

before they got strung up, they had to be turned into an art piece. Whumper scarred them to all hell, not trying to hurt them, but trying to evoke a certain image. their clothes aren’t normal clothes, obviously, they’re the type of thing you’d imagine on a statue. That type of revealing, robe-ish thing.

there’s a little plaque that sits on a stand next to them, with whumper’s name and credits to them, and the name of their website if any viewers want to buy one of their own to keep, and the title of the piece. not their given name, not the name their mother gave them- the title of the piece.

they’ve stopped being able to feel things a long time ago. They almost dislike when they’re let down, because it gives their body just enough time to recoordinate to normal gravity and walking before getting strung back up. they have to start the process of the initial blood rush, followed by the asleep feeling, followed by pain and then numbness. they haven’t been able to feel their feet or their fingers since training. if they do get rescued, they won’t be able to use either- their toes and fingers both look purple, almost black, from the blood- almost like bad hypothermia. it adds to the look. they think their fingers and toes might be dead.

whumper was looking for the type of look you see sometimes in old rennesiance oil paintings, but more tangible. whumpee’s body wasn’t the only thing they worked on- they looked through different types of bonds- ropes, chains, before finally landing on strings. whumpee is a proper art piece to whumper- they spent hours styling and changing whumpee’s clothes, if you could call it that. Whumper spent days sketching and thinking about ways to string up whumpee- which arm and leg should go where to achieve the most pain and blood flow block up, making their knuckles and every one of their bony joints red and swollen.

alternatively, art piece whumpee who’s heavily conditioned. they’re an art piece. that’s all they are. there’s nothing wrong with the way the viewers look at them or touch them or the mocking way they talk to them. they want to be a good art piece. that’s all they are.

human speech sounds garbled in their mind. somehow, whumper’s training managed to make whumpee unlearn language, all human language coming out strange and gibberish to them. they can’t communicate, can’t understand.

the strings are light and clear, and they give enough for whumpee to be able to move and change their position slightly, but they can’t get out. the strings are wrapped too tight around them, further affecting their circulation and biting into their flesh, leaving permeanant scars. the strings don’t give, despite how thin they are, they’re sturdy.

if whumpee does manage to get out of them, somehow, they’ll be decommissioned. A new living art piece will be up a couple months from now. they’ll hand in a heap on the floor, much too dizzy to get away from the security guards.

they’ve long stopped trying to fight it. They’re a touchable exhibit, and so people are allowed to pinch their cheeks and laugh when their eyes widen or touch them however they want as long as they don’t break their strings. People poke them in the sides and laugh when they flinch, looking over at them with terror.

they’re surrounded by objects- paintings and cloth and clay. Beautiful objects, human expression, but objects nonetheless. they’re left there after lights out, just like all the other art pieces, sitting in the dark for 15 hours surrounded by objects just like them until the next employee comes in to open at seven.

they’re the pride and joy of their exhibit.

[mj-iza-writer]

The last thing Whumpee remembered was a bright light coming at them from seemingly nowhere. It felt like a bus when it hit them.

Whumpee squinted their eyes open. They felt drowsy from whatever was thrown at them.

'Whoever's magic that was needs to tone it down', Whumpee thought to themself, 'they must not of had proper training.'

Whumpee already felt that they were tied down with rope and black shrink wrap. A gag had been forced into their mouth, and a tube was connected to it. The tube ran partially down their throat so they could breath and eat. Without it, they would suffocate, but for the inexperienced, the gagging could be worse than suffocating.

Whumpee carefully wiggled, any panicking would make them gag. This wasn't their first time in this situation, they knew this, they were to experienced to make a mistake like panicking.

'Slave trade', Whumpee told themself after receiving a hit to their stomach, 'I'm in the blood market for the vampires.'

'This is terrifying... what if I go to someone else', Whumpee whimpered, 'at least Master makes sure we are properly cared for. Even if it's to cultivate our blood for himself.'

Humans on the purchasing block were wrapped up tightly in black shrink wrap so they couldn't see. A picture was posted of them when they first came in, and their blood was tested by several vampires in the trade so a correct description was posted for interested owners.

Whumpee had a very specific flavor in their blood. Their Master enjoyed it immensely, so Whumpee questioned how they ended up here.

'Master kills the humans he no longer wants. He doesn't resell', Whumpee thought to themself, 'they must have been watching me. Master won't be happy when they find out that I'm missing.'

Whumpee could feel hands caressing their body.

'I always hated this part', Whumpee groaned.

"Whumpee is that you?", someone whispered near Whumpee's head.

Whumpee quickly nodded.... somehow that voice seemed familiar enough. They gagged slightly from the tube.

"I thought so", the voice whispered again, "hold on, I was trying to find Tatum's branding on you, and I couldn't remember where they place it. Don't worry I'll get you out of this situation."

Whumpee felt relieved.

"Their picture of you was questionable, and I know Tatum wouldn't give you up so easily", the voice whispered, "with how much they praise your blood."

'I'd be dead if master wanted me gone', Whumpee sighed to themself.

"Excuse me", Whumpee's rescuer called over an employee, "I would like to put a hold on this one.... a friend of mine has been looking for blood like this slave's, I need to call for them."

"Yes of course", the employee nodded.

Whumpee felt arms cradle them from underneath. They were lifted and carried to a private room.

"If I may remain with them until my friend arrives. So I can make sure nothing happens to them", Whumpee heard the friend talking.

"Of course you can stay in this room... just do not remove the wrapping. In case your friend doesn't want them we won't have to rewrap them. It's harder when they're awake", Whumpee heard the person leave.

"I'm pretty sure your master wants you back. I just texted them, and they are not happy", Whumpee heard the person sigh, "I'm not leaving you like this... that tube has to be uncomfortable."

Whumpee nodded, then gagged again.

"Okay hold still."

Whumpee felt the person start cutting the wrapping away.

They were finally able to see who it was.

"Master Collin", Whumpee whispered after the gag and tube were removed.

"Yes dear", they smiled, "don't make too much noise, I don't want them coming back."

Whumpee remained in a laying down position.

"I don't know what happened", Whumpee whispered hoarsely, "I was outside to get some sunlight at Master's requests..... a bright ball of light hit me. When I woke up I was here. They used a lot of magic, I'm still drowsy."

Master Collin nodded, "these traders have been kidnapping different humans from their masters and reselling them again", they sighed, "I'm sorry I don't have any water for you. I know that tube dries you out."

"It's okay", Whumpee whispered.

"Tatum should be here shortly... I know they've been hunting you down since last night", Master Collin frowned.

Outside of the room rumors amongst the employees spread across the sale floor. A mysterious person was walking up and down every aisle.

Mysterious meant rich for most slave traders.

Master Tatum's frown deepened as he passed every human that was not Whumpee.

"I hate these places so much", Tatum complained, "this is inhumane even for lowly creatures like humans."

Tatum pulled out their phone, "I'm getting irritated. Where is my property?", they texted Collin.

"I had them brought to a private room for protection", Collin replied, "I'll open the door."

Collin opened the door and waved at Tatum.

Tatum rolled their eyes and started toward the room.

"Hello Master, can I interest you in....", a seller approached.

"No, I already know what I'm looking for... out of my way", Tatum gruffed.

"Yes I apologize", they quickly moved out of the way and watched Tatum storm off.

Tatum came into the room and saw Whumpee's state.

"They didn't waste any time preparing you for sale", Tatum frowned, "I am quite irritated seeing you like this."

"Please Master, I-I didn't do anything", Whumpee pleaded.

"I-I'm well aware", Tatum sighed, "I can smell the magic seeping off of you."

"Collin will you help me untie them?", Tatum stepped closer.

"I told you not to do that", the seller from earlier came in yelling.

Tatum turned quickly and snapped their fingers.

The seller flew back into the selling room, and Tatum stormed after them.

"You dare steal my property, then tell me what I can do with them", Tatum yelled.

Collin peaked out the door with a grin.

"What's happening?", Whumpee whispered.

"Tatum has reached their last straw. They'd burn this place down if it wasn't for the humans and innocent bystanders here", Collin chuckled.

Police had been called on Tatum's behavior, but it was quickly reversed on the slave traders.

The doors would be closed permanently on this company. All humans would be checked to ensure they were not stolen. All the others would be given to other sellers who followed more humane practices.

Whumpee was quickly returned to Tatum.

"Thankyou", Tatum looked at Collin, "I appreciate you finding them for me."

"Of course", Collin grinned, "I'm happy to help."

Tatum carried Whumpee home.

"Bed now, we will get that filthy place cleaned off of you after you've rested", Tatum frowned.

Whumpee looked down sadly.

"What?", Tatum tried to settle down. Whumpee wasn't at fault for this incident. They knew Whumpee didn't deserve their anger.

"Co-could I have something to eat.... a-and some comfort", Whumpee tried not to cry, "I tried to stay strong, but", Whumpee felt a tear sneak out, "I-I was scared."

"Yes you can have food.... you know I'm not the most comforting vampire right", Tatum glared.

"I know... b-but I'll take anything", Whumpee shook.

"Fine, let's get this over with", Tatum frowned, "let's get you some food first..... I'm guessing they never fed you then."

"No Master, Whumpee followed shyly, "unless they fed me through the tube while I was unconscious."

"I had thought you ran away when you didn't return when I called. I swore I would hunt you down. You knew the outcome for running from me. I wondered how brave you thought you were. When I came outside I smelt the magic spells used on you, and I realized you were taken", Tatum talked while they prepared a meal, "then I received Collin's message and I hurried to you", Tatum frowned, "I'm sorry", they forced out, "that should of never happened to you. I will take precautionary measures to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Whumpee smiled weakly as Tatum set a plate of food in front of them.

"Will you require a meal from me tonight as well Master?", Whumpee took a fork from Tatum, "thankyou for this food, Master."

"You're welcome... you may eat", Tatum sat at the table.

"As for a few days, I'll feed from the others. This way you have time to recover. Your blood won't taste good to me from the stress you were put through. I'll feed when I feel you're ready."

Whumpee choked.

"Slow down, you are over filling your mouth", Tatum warned.

"I'm sorry my throat is still sore from the tube", Whumpee looked at the plate, "plus this is delicious."

"Good", Tatum sighed, "let's get you cleaned up next.... then I will attempt to comfort you... I guess you deserve something for your trials."

Whumpee was taken into the bathroom, a different blood slave helped them bathe.

"Yeah, Master came into the kitchen and saw us eating, and they asked where you were. None of us knew, so they called for you", they talked with each other, "we were scared when you didn't return, then Master was ticked. Out of all of us you were the least likely to run from Master."

Whumpee nodded, "I would never dare such a thing, they would kill me. You wouldn't be truly free, constantly looking over your surroundings until the inevitable happened and Master came for you. With the bounty on my blood, they'd probably leave me in the dungeon and feed on me when they wanted."

"Probably", the other smiled, "in complete honesty, I don't even think Master is as bad as they could be. So what if they feed off of us, Master does it to survive, they have a right to survive as well. Master never hurts us unless we deserve it. We are well taken care of, and they don't over feed. There are five blood slaves all together."

"Plus they are a good cook", Whumpee laughed, "I know the care they put into us is to ensure our blood is of the best quality for them. I don't know many owners who put that much effort into their humans. Though we are fairly expendable for Master, it's still nice to be taken care of "

"I'm glad you both find me to be a good master", Tatum stood by the door and chuckled as the two jumped.

Whumpee and the other looked down shyly and tried to hide their embarrassment.

"No please continue saying good things about me. I've been listening for the last few minutes", Tatum came into the bathroom, "truly I am happy to know that at least two of you like me, and don't plan on running away. I at least know who I don't have to watch as strictly."

"You protect us Master", Whumpee looked up slowly, "why would we want to run?"

Tatum turned, "hurry and finish, unless you feel this was comforting enough. You are at least smiling now. Do you still require me to care for you?", Tatum frowned.

"You don't have to if you don't want to", Whumpee whispered, "but I would appreci...."

"Good", Tatum quickly left the bathroom and down the hall.

"I guess you aren't getting any hugs from Master tonight."

"I-I guess not", Whumpee sighed.

Whumpee tossed and turned half the night, nightmares and discomfort gnawed at them.

They sat up in bed and looked around.

"My throat hurts so bad, and these covers feel like I'm tied up again", Whumpee looked at their hands, "I wonder where Master is."

Whumpee got up and grabbed their teddy, then quietly left their shared bedroom.

After a few minutes, they found Tatum by the fire reading.

"Why are you awake?", Tatum didn't look up.

"Nightmares and discomfort Master", Whumpee stood in the doorway, "ma-may I have comfort now... please."

Tatum sighed, "it's not my specialty to be comforting that's why I have six..", Tatum caught themself. They had just killed one of the slaves for not obeying and breaking rules, "five of you to comfort each other."

"Please, even if it's your hand on my shoulder, it would help", Whumpee's voice cracked as they tried not to cry. They held their throat, "it still hurts Master."

"I've already asked for the doctor to come by and check on you. Collin reminded me of a few things they would have done to you. They will be by tomorrow", Tatum sighed, "well if you must, you must... come here then."

Whumpee quickly walked to the couch and sat beside Tatum.

Tatum awkwardly rested their hand on Whumpee's shoulder and then went back to reading.

"You are safe now", Tatum forced themself to say, "I assure you that will not happen again."

"Thankyou Master", Whumpee whispered.

"Ymhmm", Tatum hummed.

Whumpee started to grow tired sitting there.

They closed their eyes and absent-mindedly laid down; their head now on Tatum's leg.

"Whumpee I didn't agree to this", Tatum tried to lift Whumpee off, but Whumpee was out.

"Great now what?", Tatum sighed and looked at Whumpee awkwardly, "I'm only allowing this, so you'll sleep... do you hear me?"

They rested their hand on Whumpee's shoulder again and went back to reading.

Tatum's slaves required a full eight hours of sleep every night for their blood quality. Either Tatum had to wake Whumpee and mess with their already destroyed sleep schedule, or deal with Whumpee laying there until morning.

"At least no one else will see this", Tatum whispered.

Tatum saw movement at the doorway a while later.

"Now why are you up?", Tatum complained, "no humans should be awake in my household."

"I'm sorry Master, I saw Whumpee was away from their bed... I was going to check on them", the slave smiled when they saw Whumpee, "I see you got them."

"Yes I do, and if you say anything about this to anyone I will tear out your throat. Am I clear?", Tatum threatened.

"Yes of course Master... we wouldn't want anyone to think you have softened for something lowly like a human", the slave prodded.

"Go back to bed... now", Tatum ordered, "take your sarcasm with you."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst

@generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee

@expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers @starfields08000 @a-living-canvas @lumpofsand

@watermeezer @indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains @3-2-whump

[ohtobeleah]

Day 12 [Blood Runs Thicker Than Water]

Summary: Charles and Logan, already in a Days of Future Past quests, take a detour when Charles feels another mutant in the Pentagon.

Warnings: Mutant abilities. Charles Xavier x F!reader. Neglect. Sensory Deprivation. Body manipulation, mentions of blood.

Word Count: 3.0k

Whumptober Prompt Day Twelve: Isolation, sensory deprivation, “Can you feel me? I’m right here, whumpee.”

Author Note: Please make sure you read the warnings provided. Disclaimer: I do not condone nor endorse the actions that are written about during the month of October. These works of fiction are just that, fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for this year's prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It's a tragedy really, when a mature mind and a romantic heart are trapped within the same body. You can understand that happiness is not an ideal of reason, but one of imagination. Being exposed to such hostile, tortious environments makes the heart grow with envy. Longing for understanding. Compassion. 

It makes the mind question intention. Isolation. Deprivation. Two things that do wild things to a mind once full of empathy. It alters your brain chemistry. Changes your perception of reality. When people are fueled with the terror of becoming prey, you see how quickly they become a predator. 

Built-in 1943, the Pentagon is one of the world's largest office buildings, housing more than twenty-five thousand military employees on any given day of the week. Those employees are stretched over six million square feet. Six million square feet built to house the world’s most dangerous, most violent offenders. No prison, no detention centre, no off-shore bunker was good enough to keep society safe from you. 

“There's someone else down there,” Charles frowned as he slid his back slowly down the wall until he landed on the floor. His mind was racing, neurons were firing on all cylinders– something that had been suppressed for years. He could feel an agony beyond comprehension. A pain so overwhelming that it broke through the suppression and forced his mind into overdrive. Charles Xavier could feel again. “There’s another person here, we need to find them!”

“I don’t think we have time for that,” Logan frowned as he looked around, keeping an eye on the halls as they made their way deeper into the facility. Deeper below the surface of the Pentagon, one of the world's most heavily guarded buildings. It was already a shock that the two of them had managed to get this far in. “Have you got a lock on them?” 

“I can feel them, but I can’t see them,” Charles explained as he picked himself up off the ground. Your emotional turmoil had knocked the wind right out of him. “But they’re here, I know it, they need us.” 

The room they held you in was something designed right out of a horror movie. A padded room, completely isolated from everyone and anything the world had to offer. Blindfolded, chained, muzzled. You were completely stripped of all your senses. They’d taken your very identity, only referring to you as prisoner 0002. Whoever came before you, prisoner 0001, must have been held here too. 

But how could you blame society for turning their backs on you? How could you blame them for the things you’d been subjected to? How could you not understand how this was where you needed to be, that this was the only way to keep humanity safe from your power? 

Pretty easily actually. You had never once used your power for anything. You had the ability, the ease of manipulation. You had the gift, the talent, the strength. But you’d never once used your power on another human being. 

That didn’t matter though, not to your fiance at least. When he’d found out what you had the ability to do, he turned you into the government without a single moment of hesitation. He’d betrayed you on a nearly incomprehensible scale. He’d left you to rot in a prison cell you didn’t deserve to be in. 

You should have used your power on him, on everyone the second you caught onto what was happening. But the sedative they gave you had already taken effect before you could react. Before you could take control. 

You were the only known blood-bender in existence. A force of nature so powerful that the only way to make sure you didn’t cause unimaginable loss, was to lock you away, deep underground, in a maximum security building and throw away the key. 

“She,” Charles gasped as he and Logan made their way deeper underground. “She’s here somewhere,” It was the grief of a former life that Charles could feel. He had a headache so chronic that he thought for a moment his brain may expand to a size his skull couldn’t handle. “Let me try something,” He asked as the two stopped in their tracks. Logan wasn’t too happy about the detour as it was. He was on borrowed time already. A side quest wasn’t really on the cards when so much was already at risk. 

But as it happened, the Days of Future Past would have to wait for a moment. Charles was in deep. Erik would have to wait. His mind was blurred with pain so overwhelming that he couldn’t reach your mind. He could only feel your overpowering emotional turmoil with every fibre of his being. 

“Can you feel me? I’m right here,” Charles asked the void in his mind, but much to his dismay there was no answer. “I can’t connect to her, we have to keep moving.” 

“Just my luck,” Logan sighed as he followed behind a younger version of the man who had given him so much. “Come on then, put your skates on old man.” 

“Who the hell are you calling old?” Charles chuckled as they ran down the corridors, moving deeper and deeper underground to where a row of cells were. “She must be in one of these?” 

“Have you stopped to ask yourself if there’s a good reason she’s in here?” Logan wasn’t often the voice of reason in these types of situations, but as the two men stopped dead in their tracks right outside a prison door, he had to ask the question. “What if–” 

“No reason would be justifiable for the amount of pain I feel,” Charles explained as he opened the door. The room was in complete darkness. You couldn’t see a single thing behind your blindfold. Charles physically felt his heart sink into his stomach as he hit the lights to reveal you, suspended in chains in the middle of the room. “Good lord.” 

“Holy-” Logan’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “This is fucked.” He had a history of mutant experimentation, but to see this? To see you trapped inside your own body like this without any senses, was a devastating sight to bear witness to. Perhaps Charles was right? Who deserved this kind of treatment? 

“I've got no strings. To hold me down. To make me fret. Or make me frown. I had strings. But now I'm free. There are no strings on me.” You sung inside your mind. The voices were loud and prevalent. So loud they often took total control of your limited imagination. “I've got no strings. So I have fun. I'm not tied up to anyone. They've got strings. But you can see. There are no strings on me.”  Behind the muzzle that kept you quiet, you smiled wickedly with profound thoughts of total domination. One day the world would burn for what they had done to you. 

“Hello?” Charles tried to gain your attention, but it was to no avail. The way your senses had been stripped made it impossible to get your attention. “Okay Logan, help me get her down from there.” 

With reluctance oozing from his very being, Logan sliced through the metal chains that kept you suspended in the air.

“Ahh!” Your startled screams echoed off the walls from behind your muzzle as you fell. Charles was there, however, just waiting to break your fall. “What's going on!? What's happening!!” You mumbled from behind your muzzle. “This is your chance,” The voice inside your mind told you with excitement. “Take it, release your power.” 

“It's alright!” Charles tried to calm your obvious fears. “We’re here to help you, you’re safe now.” 

“Let me go!” The pain in your muffled voice. The strain in your pleas. The way you thrashed and kicked and screamed in Charles’s arms just trying to free yourself from whoever was in your cell made Logan question what true atrocities you’d been subjected to. But he still had his wits about him to not trust you entirely. 

Normal people don’t just end up in facilities like this for no good reason. Although you were a mutant, there still had to be some reason for your imprisonment that Charles wasn’t taking into consideration. 

“I’ve got you, can you feel me?” Charles asked as he took the earplugs from your ears. “I’m right here, I’ve got you, you’re safe now,” The sounds that flooded your ears were so loud it felt like they were going to force your head to explode. Like a flood bursting through a damn wall, your ears popped with the pressure change. “We’re here now.” 

“Charles, I wouldn’t if I were you,” Logan growled as he stood by with his claws ready to go. The room was eerie enough on its own. With its entirely white setting, floor, walls, and roof. But with you looking like the thing that crawled out of the well in the ring, Logan was beginning to fear the worst. He’d seen that movie in the future…

“Do you really believe this crap?” The voices were loud, overwhelmingly fierce. “Who do they think they are?” They controlled your every thought, altering your perception of reality as the only friends you knew for years were inside your own head. Coaxing you towards insanity. Holding you hostage inside your own head. 

“She’s in pain Logan, for god’s sake!” Charles snapped as he peeled your eyemask off. The overwhelming brightness from the fluorescent lights made your eyes roll into the back of your head. Retreating from the overexposure to a sense you had been deprived of for weeks. The touch you felt made your skin crawl. It burned like a ferocious fire igniting against your cells. Melting you away after years of no physical contact. 

“Here, let me.” It was your muzzle next, the very thing that kept you from being able to entertain yourself. Soon enough everything that once kept you isolated and trapped within yourself had been released from your body. 

You had been set free. 

Finally. 

“Kill them both,” The voice told you. “I can’t!” You replied as your voice cracked, it had been days since you were last able to vocalise a word. “But if you don’t kill them, they’ll kill you!” Your inner monologue, the leading lady, had a valid point. “They’re the people, they put you in here, they turned their back on you, and now they’ll pay the ultimate price.” 

“Are you alright?” Charles questioned as he watched you somewhat convulse in his arms. His eyes cautiously scanned over your body. “I’m Charles, this is Logan, we’re–” Before Charles had a chance to finish his sentence, you were in his body. “What, what are you doing?” Charles could feel you in his skin. Moving. Controlling his limbs with your mind. The blood inside his body was no longer his. It was under your full control. “Stop, you don’t have to do this.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, I TOLD you!” Logan hissed as he took a few strides towards you. Without looking, you had him in a chokehold. Completely unable to move against your complete control. You were bending his blood, the very life force inside us all. “What are you doing?” 

“Humanity turned its back on me a long time ago.” You snarled, rising to your feet for the first time in weeks. The feeling of freedom. The feeling of power. Nothing compared to this. “You should have left me here to rot.” You swiped your hand to the left and watched as Logan slammed into the padded wall. The sound he made as he hit the ground made your nerve endings ignite with such delight that you swore it was more powerful than any man-made drug. “Let’s see how scared they become when I give them a reason to be.” 

“Stop–” Charles tried to get inside your mind as you threatened to keep him down on his knees at your feet. “You don’t want to do this, we can help you!” 

“I don’t want your help,” You chuckled as you controlled the man at your feet by the very blood that ran through his veins. “Years, YEARS I’ve been locked away and left to rot because I was different. Because I was powerful!” You explained as tears welled in your eyes. “Because they were scared of what I had the ability to do!” 

“You’re a blood bender–” Logan asked as he stood, dusting himself off from his rollercoaster ride. “I thought you were all wiped out?” That sentence in and of itself said more than you could ever explain. Humanity was terrified of the things you had the ability to do. As far as you were aware, you were the last of your kind. A force to be reckoned with. Logan had watched what humanity had done to bloodbenders in a former life. 

“I had a friend once, a blood bender, he was good people,” Logan tried to de-escalate the situation unfolding before him. But you had Charles under your total control. Logan had met Mark in the early nineties…But your kind, blood-benders, fell victim to a genetic disease that targeted your specific genetic makeup. Wiping blood-benders from the face of the earth without a cure. Logan hadn’t thought going back in time would have time standing face to face with someone who was technically extinct. 

“Your friend,” You asked as you kept your control over Charles, his body was tense and shaking under the immense pressure you were putting on his body. It was a feeling he’d never experienced before. His mind was wide awake, in full control of his thoughts and emotions. But you had him completely under your control physically. It was a terrifying experience to not only witness but to feel. “Where is he now?” 

“Not here,” Logan’s inability to answer truthfully told you everything you needed to know. He was dead. “But I can promise you, if you come with us, we can help you live a normal–” Logan had to pause. Nothing about what his life was like was ‘normal’. He was currently propelling his mind into the past to save his future self. What about that was normal? “Ish, a normal-ish life,” He corrected himself with a slight head tilt. 

“Im going to kill your friend here,” You chuckled wickedly. “And you’re going to have to watch on knowing there was nothing you could have done to stop me.” It was a threat you truly meant with everything you had to give. 

“If you do this? If you go down this road, a road that they already assumed you’d go down?” You were listening as he continued, but your control on Charles was unwavering. “Then they fucking win, they win because they knew you’d do exactly what you’re about to fucking do and personally?” Logan sighed as he took a single step towards you. “I don’t feel like chasing you down because I’ve already got a lot on my goddamn plate at the moment.” 

“Get a bigger plate, asshole,” You replied, deciding to use the man at your feet as a weapon. “Catch.” You hissed, and with all your strength you threw Charles at Logan. The very sound of the two men colliding with one another could have given you an orgasm right then and there. But instead of sticking around to savour your handwork, you took off on foot. 

“Don’t say a goddamn word,” Charles groaned as he regained control of his own body. Logan was quick to shove the man he wished he could beat the crap out of off of him. But he couldn’t do that right this minute. “She’s afraid,” 

“She’s a goddamn liability, Charles!” Logan’s teeth would have shattered under the pressure at which he was gritting them together if he were a normal human being. But thankfully, he wasn’t. “You can’t save them all, she’s too far gone!” 

“I bet people said that about you too?” Charles replied as he got off the floor, groaning as his body throbbed from being used as a personal plaything. “Tell me, Wolverine, who gave you a second, third, or fourth chance after people turned their backs on you?” “Because you know damn well you’re looking at him,” Charles reminded the time travelling mutant of all the forgiveness he’d experienced in his over-extended life. “She needs a second chance, and if I can’t give her that, who‘s bloody going to!” 

“I hate that you’re somehow always fucking right, you prick,” Logan sighed as he tapped Charles on the shoulder. “C’mon then, let’s go fucking find her before she does something she can’t come back from.” 

“Thank you, friend.” Was all Charles said as he walked alongside Logan. “A blood bender, that’s a new one.” It was the smile that crept itself across Charles’s face that made Logan question if it was really just about giving you a redemption arch, or if Charles had other, deeper investments in you. 

“You felt her pain, you know what she’s been through, don’t you?” Logan asked as the two men made their way back to the elevator. Taking notice of the trail of dead bodies with blood coming out of their eyes, ears and noses. 

“There no more damage that neither I, nor you can do in the hopes of saving her from herself, that would ever come close to what she’s been through,” Charles sighed as he looked at the destruction around him. 

“She needs our help, even if it kills her.” 

***********************

[urlocalwhumper]

caretaker stumbling upon a big, scarred pet whumpee in a shelter. although intimidating at first sight, this whumpee was actually severely abused by their previous owner, and are extremely meek and frightened as a result.

an employee lets caretaker into whumpee's kennel so they can interact with them before they make their decision. after a few minutes of gently soothing whumpee and convincing them they aren't a threat, whumpee settles into caretaker's lap, giving a contented sigh as caretaker's fingers softly thread through their hair, and caretaker knows they just have to bring them home.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Living Weapon Whumpee part 2

Warnings: forced living weapon/fighter, memory loss, reluctant killing spree, mass murder, slit throats & lots of blood

HEED THE WARNINGS HERE! This one gets pretty intense with a lot of slitting of throats and innocent deaths. Please don't read if you're sensitive to that kind of thing.

"It's Weapon!!" The alarmed cry came before Whumpee's cloak had even fully slid off. He grimaced at hearing his war-given name. He hated it.

With a low, animalistic growl, he set upon the innocent townsfolk, pouncing on the closest living person he spotted and slitting their throat before moving to the next with lightning speed. Terrified screams shattered the air, replacing cheerful conversations.

Panicked humans scrambled like mice to get away, but Whumpee was fast, and efficient, and destructive. He was a whirlwind of pain and fury and lethal power, tearing into the innocent townspeople and killing them one by one.

He charged into small businesses, slashing open the throats of surprised patrons and employees before they could even react to his presence before swiftly moving on, leaving bodies gurgling on blood in his wake, a dozen dying breaths.

Whumpee didn't care, he told himself, despite his initial hesitation. Once his mission was over he could return to Leader's base and rest in his cage-like room on a less-than-comfortable bed and pretend none of this happened. It had gotten easier for him to dissociate with practice.

More haunting screams of panic and terror rattled in his skull as he barged into households next after everyone in open view was dead. He went from building to building, death made flesh, dragging victims out to add them to his kill count.

He took no pleasure in it. It was, simply put, his mission. Nothing personal.

Whumpee quickly combed through the village on his killing spree, blood spattering the dirt paths and coating his shoes and hands, dripping from his daggers. He jumped when there was movement off to his left, instinctively whirling to face the danger -- to see a woman with tear-streaked face come stumbling out of a house, walking right up to him.

"Please, have mercy!" The woman fell at his feet, sobbing violently, begging, as if it would spare her. She hadn't waited for Whumpee to find her on his own.

Whumpee crouched down in front of the woman and jammed one blade up to the hilt in her chest, straight through the heart. An instant, quick death. That was his mercy granted to her.

He was almost finished with his duty, the town increasingly quiet. The air was thick with the acrid scent of fear and blood as he crashed into the last few houses.

And finally, everything was quiet. So terribly quiet. Whumpee staggered out of the last house, a deep gash on his arm. The last family had put up a decent fight, managing to injure him in a few places. Nothing serious. And not enough to stop Whumpee from killing them.

Whumpee limped back to the center of the town where the most blood and death was, breathing hard and ragged. The wounds hurt worse than he had expected, throbbing and aching. The father of the family had managed to get the drop on him the instant he set foot in the household, wielding a kitchen knife at Whumpee and getting a few good slashes in before Whumpee killed him.

Whumpee looked around him at all the carnage, all the dead bodies, the people he'd killed, face stony -- and suddenly dropped to his knees, crying. And the worst part was, he didn't know why. He was a weapon. And weapons don't weep.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222

[deathbywhump]

Recently found out about emotional whump. I'm a huge fan, omg. I have a few thoughts as well.

I think non-physical whump requires a looooot of tact. You need to be careful and specific to whump a whumpee emotionally. To really stab them (emotionally) where it hurts.

For example, taunting a captive whumpee who would die for their friends with a "No one's come for you. They never really liked you to begin with."

Or a whumpee and a whumper who have an intimate relationship, where there's absolutely no physical whump at all, but. The whumper will say something that really truly scares whumpee. Maybe a "You need me. You won't be able to live without me." Or, "I've never hurt you. I never will. As long as you're with me."

There's also the classic whump til' they cry. Words can sting. A lot! Or even just horrible actions that never justify the means, all in front of whumpee. Like a whumper who manipulates all of whumpee's friends into infighting. Or a whumper who has too much societal power (i.e. a high ranking employee or government official) that can really, really make whumpee suffer, without even lifting a finger.

Emotional whump is so interesting. New and exciting ways to torment whumpee. Many of which can fly under the radar, not even registering to be seen as whump. It's like playing a metaphorical game of hide and seek. How much whump can I put under the blanket? How much will be found?

Of course, the tears of a whumpee is a pretty good indicator.

[baughtio]

Whumpees who are caught up in violence just because they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time:

Maybe they were walking home from the supermarket, when suddenly they find themselves hovering in the air, bound up by some magical force or Lovecraftian snake. Maybe villain is using them as bait to get to hero.

Or perhaps they’re a new employee at a research centre when some “failed experiment” (that only the higher-ups knew about) escapes, and whumpee is bloodied up while trying to find an exit (kinda like Outlast: Whistleblower).

I like the idea of whumpee getting hurt just because they were there, not because they were special to some whumper. It leaves no room for bargaining with whumper. Whumpee can only (literally) roll with the punches from an overwhelming entity as their limp body (frantic mind) is dragged into the shadows…

[spidersanonymous]

There was a soft knock at their door. Caretaker looked up from their mountains of paperwork, eyebrows furrowing as Whumpee fidgeted in the doorway.

“Hello, Whumpee,” they greeted smoothly, “is there something you needed?” Whumpee didn’t tend to stray from Whumper’s side, Caretaker could only imagine what they might need. With a glance at their emancipated figure, probably a hot meal and a bed.

“Caretaker, i-” Whumpee bit their lip, shakily stepping further into Caretakers office, “I need- help. Your help,” they finished lamely, shifting on their feet as they awaited Caretaker’s response.

Caretaker rose an eyebrow, a record amount of seven words in a span of all of twenty seconds, “Okay?” they set down their pen, giving Whumpee their full attention, “Here,” they stood up from their chair, the old metal shrieking, “i think you need a seat, yes?”

Whumpee’s lip curled down but they still crossed the room and sat down, the chair groaning quietly under their weight. They hugged their arms around themself, head bowed as they anxiously glanced at the door.

Caretaker hummed, eyes tracing over Whumpee before making a decision, “I could close the door if you’re that concerned about it,” they nodded towards the doorway.

“Don’t,” Whumpee rasped, eyes widening as their words registered; still, they continued, “it isn’t- it’s not- it’s… fine.” their frown deepened as they stammered through the words. Caretaker could sympathize.

“If you’re sure,” Caretaker shrugged, leaning against their table with as much casualty as they could manage, “so, you needed my help with what, exactly?” they asked, not unkindly.

“Um,” their arms tightened, “i need- you help victims um, escape from their abu-abusers, right?”

Caretaker leaned forward with rapt attention, eyes sharpening as they drank in Whumpee’s quivering lips, tight posture, the way their nails picked at the fabric of their shirt. Caretaker never saw Whumpee at lunch, nor did they ever come to the employee hang-outs on weekends. Something forced the ever elusive Whumpee to come out of hiding. “Right,” they nodded, “I do.”

“Okay,” they nodded once, twice, “Yes, there was a case- Jorgie May, and her sister,” they picked furiously at a view loose threads, avoiding Caretaker’s eyes as their gaze darted across the office space. There wasn’t much to see.

Caretaker hummed agreement.

“Their mother,” their voice strained, throat bobbing as they forced the words out, “she was- erm- abusive,” their eyes suddenly found Caretakers, “how did-” they licked their lips nervously, “how did they get help?” What did they say to make people believe them? Was left unsaid.

Whumpee’s words lingered in the air for a moment as Caretaker considered, leaning closer as they dropped their voice to a whisper, “They gathered evidence, took pictures of their injuries, recorded arguments they had with their mother, things of that nature. One night their mother was drunk, so she took all of the evidence -and her sister- and went to the police,” they leaned out of Whumpee’s space, “bit hard to claim two malnourished kids covered head to toe in bruises were liars.”

Whumpee shuddered, squeezing their eyes shut as they exhaled forcefully.

“The fact the neighborhood didn’t have the highest opinions of their mother probably helped, as well,” they mused to themself.

“Thank you,” they whispered, “that’s-”

“A lot?” Caretaker suggested, eyebrow raised.

“Sure,” they shrugged, glancing at the door, “i should probably get going-”

A quiet knock interrupted Whumpee’s words as Whumper slipped in from the ajar door, “Ah,” they hummed, eyes narrowing, “Whumpee and… Caretaker. How curious.”

Not even a hello, “Hello, Whumper,” they greeted as smoothly as they could manage, “was there something you needed?” even then, their words were curt.

“There’s no need to be hostile, Caretaker,” they chastised with a frown, stalking further into Caretaker’s office, “I’m just here to collect my charge, I am responsible for them, you know,” their lips curled up, as if letting Caretaker in on a joke. Caretaker hated the look on them.

“Of… course,” Caretaker agreed, words sour, “is there any chance we could take a minute and chat?” and maybe, possibly, knock you over the head with a baseball bat?

“No, unfortunately,” they crooned with false pity, smiling sickly-sweet, “Whumpee and I have a meeting to attend, and we simply don’t have the time for any further conversations,” they spat the words, expression darkening as they grabbed Whumpee’s wrist and harshly pulled them up.

Whumpee, for their credit, didn’t yelp at the pull, even though they looked like one strong wind took knock them over. They grit their teeth, allowing themself to be pulled to Whumper’s side. Whumper curled an arm around their shoulder, looking painfully smug.

Caretaker wanted to wipe that look off their face.

“If that’s all, Whumpee and I really do have to be going,” they dragged Whumpee out the door, “it was lovely speaking with you, Caretaker.”

Can’t say the same for you, “Likewise.” They managed to spit out.

With one last smug smirk, they both disappeared behind the door, finally shutting closed with a click.

Caretaker only wished they gave Whumpee their number.

___

kind of insane about this idea tbh. not sure what about it is so good but… ohh boy. wrote this in a span of two days, lightly edited. also let me know if anyone wants to be added to a taglist lol

[asianwhumpgalore]

Grid (그리드) | Kdrama | Whump List

Genre: Action, Thriller, Mystery, Sci-Fi

Synopsis: Earth has survived catastrophic solar winds under the protection of the Grid, its planetary defense shield. Kim Sae Ha, a Bureau employee, encounters a murderer. Jung Sae Byeok, a detective, is dispatched to arrest the murderer. While in pursuit of the fugitive, she witnesses an unbelievable phenomenon: the founder of the Grid - a ghost from the past - has reappeared after 24 years. But why is she abetting the fugitive?

Length: 10 eps

Whump meter: ▲◭△△△ 

✨ Not much injury whump but quite some emotional whump. Drama was interesting but overall rather slow and confusing. ✨

⚠️Trigger Content: Burning, usual thriller cws ⚠️⚠️Some SPOILERS will be found, proceed with caution⚠️⚠️

Whumpee: Kim Sae Ha portrayed by Seo Kang Joon

Ep 1 | None

Ep 2 | [27:31] Kicked to the ground, barely dodges an object being broken over him, fought, shoved to the ground, rolls and hits the wall, groaning, panting, struggling to get up, leaning against the wall, tearing up.

Ep 3 | Watching a disturbing video, shaky breathing, tearing up, body tense, crying, can't watch any longer, rests head on hand.

Ep 4-5 | None.

Ep 6 | Distressed, tearing up, crying.

Ep 7 | [06:58] Cuts himself in the lower arm, bleeding, breathing heavily, held at gunpoint, device implanted into his arm (off screen), sweating | Tearing up, crying | Shoved onto a desk, falls to the ground scratched in the cheek with a pencil.

Ep 8 | Crying | Cuts himself in the lower arm again, bleeding a lot, digs into wound with tweezers until he pulls out the device. Saved from an explosion, bloody hand.

Ep 9 | [38:40] Choked, falls to the ground still being choked, fights off attacker, panting, coughing, restrained by either arm.

Ep 10 | [09:33] Shoved against a wall, impaled in the abdomen with a rusty rod, slides down wall onto the ground, clutching wound, bleeding, struggling to fight off attacker, weak, bleeding more, 'saved', collapses on his side on the ground, crying, dies. | (time altered to before he died) Concern for him, bruise reveal from previous strangulations, hit in the back of the head with a tool (not shown), bleeding onto the ground, injury reveal, bleeding from the back of his head, blood on his neck, dizzy, falls to his knees, collapses into friend's arms, weak, bleeding a lot, crying, dies.

[bloodredfountainpen]

The Gift

Masterlist

My very first official whump piece, I hope it’s not absolute trash lol.

Contains/CW: bbu adjacent, pet whump, institutionalized slavery, caretaker new master, referenced past abuse, mention of noncon body modification, brief mention of whipping and resulting scars, brief nudity (non-sexual), nonhuman whumpee (kinda), self hatred of one’s body, brainwashed whumpee, morally dubious caretaker, accidental bad caretaker (Anthony has no tact), fear of torture/punishment, self dehumanization, self deprecation (both verbal and in thought), begging for mercy (granted)

Ella, if you’re actually reading this, please for the love of God don’t skim over the CWs, they’re really important! Also, and I know you already know this about me, but none of this is a sex thing no matter how bad it looks. I am a sadist, but not that kind of sadist.

I know that’s a lot, but I promise it’s not as bad as its sounds 😭, but lmk if I missed anything.

Premise: Anthony, a young man living alone who is generally ambivalent to the practice of keeping Pets, is suddenly gifted a dog boy that he doesn’t quite know what to do with.

(Pet capital P = a person who has signed away their personhood to ModiPets Inc and is now legally an animal, usually physically modified to take on animal characteristics, hence the ‘modi’ part. pet lowercase p = the standard definition of the word.)

————————————————————————————

Anthony liked living alone. That simple fact frustrated his mother to no end, which, he suspected, was the reason that there were two MP employees at his door asking him to sign for a Pet. Now, Anthony never really knew what to think of the whole Pet thing. Sure, they had their memories wiped and were dumber now, and sure they had consented beforehand, he just still couldn’t see himself ever owning one. Besides that, he didn’t know what he would do with a whole other person in his house. He had the space for it, sure, but as an introvert by nature, the thought exhausted him just thinking about it. Still, he knew that refusing to sign and sending the package back to wherever it came from would earn his mother’s ire and probably prompt a visit, which he wanted to avoid at all cost. And so, he signed. He hoped he would not come to regret it. 

The employees helped him drag the box into his living room, and before they took their leave, they handed him a copy of the proof of delivery form. The form specified that the Pet was a hybrid Guard Dog/Platonic type with Level 2 Canine Modification and one previous owner. He hoped whatever was wrong with them to make their previous owner send them back had been fixed. He hoped that the ‘Platonic’ bit meant that the thing wasn’t feral. He hoped that the Pet hadn’t been modified to be too canine, since Anthony rather hated dogs. So many hopes for the Pet; Anthony felt kinda bad for expecting so much when he hadn’t even met them yet.

Also in this form, under the ‘other instructions/messages’ section, there was a note: 

Happy belated birthday sweetie! I know this is a bit extravagant, especially along with the rest of your presents, but it was on sale and I couldn’t resist! You know how I worry about your safety, living on your own in the big city. This good little guard doggie aught to keep you safe and keep you company in that lonely apartment of yours. 

Just like he thought; his mother’s meddling had once again inconvenienced him. Anthony scrunched the form out of frustration, before gingerly smoothing it out and sticking it in his kitchen junk drawer, reasoning that he might need it later.

Cautiously, he approached the box, and began to open it. 

———————————————————————

Light streamed into G-22985’s box. This was it, he thought, this was the moment of truth. He had spent his entire time retraining waiting for the day when he would finally have a new Master to protect, a second chance, and now that was coming true. He couldn’t wait to have nice grass or dirt to sleep on, to be fed again after days in transit. He really hoped that he would be good enough to earn all that. After all, he didn’t deserve anything that he hadn’t earned. More so, he couldn’t wait to defend Master from any and all harm. If I guard Master well, he thought, then Master might keep me around this time.

He knew better than to look at Master’s face, and so he kept his gaze fixed on a point on the wall of the box, even as Master looked him over, scanning his body. Assessing his worth, he assumed. He wanted Master to think well of him, and that was a scary feeling. He knew he wasn’t supposed to want, that’s the reason Master Liam had sent him away, but this was different, because it was for Master’s sake and not his own selfishness.

After what was really only half a second, but seemed like hours to G-22985, Master turned away and exclaimed, “Oh god, you’re naked! Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, I’ll go grab some clothes. Wait right there,” and with that, Master left. Having received his first order, G-22985 excitedly stayed put in the box, or at least he hoped dearly that that’s what Master had told him to do. He thought he might have heard Master wrong, because he seemed to have apologized to G-22985, and people don’t apologize to Pets. Even so, he stayed where Master had (probably) told him to. If he was wrong, he would be punished, and then he would know.

G-22985’s heart broke that his body was so revolting to Master. Pets don’t wear clothes, so if Master wanted him to, there must have been something really disgusting about him to be covered up. He had the sickening feeling that the whipping scars Master Liam had given him hadn’t faded as much as he thought. He often wished that those scars would disappear altogether, though he knew they never would. He wished he could forget everything about Master Liam, really, every curse ever shouted at him, every bit of pain caused to him. More than that, he wished to be good for New Master, wished so badly it hurt. This body belongs to Master, he reminded himself, whatever Master wants to do to me, he has that absolute right.

———————————————————————

Anthony’s heart was beating out of his chest as he rummaged through his closet looking for something the might fit the Pet. From the split second looked he’d got at him, Anthony estimated that the Pet was maybe a few inches taller than him, but significantly skinnier and yet somehow more muscular. With that in mind, he selected a soft hoodie and pair of sweatpants, his cheecks turning red with guilt at having looked at another man nude without his permission, and also embarrassment that he’d found the Pet attractive. Did that technically make Anthony a zoophile? He didn’t think so. 

He hurried back to the Pet, tossing the clothes into the box while turned away, and nearly shouted, “Put these on! It’s ok, I’m not looking.” 

He heard the sound of cloth shuffling, which quelled after around a minute. “Are you done? You can come out of the box if you’re done,” Anthony said, throwing the sound over his shoulder. He heard the Pet stumble out of the box, and turned to face him, only to find the Pet kneeling with his head to the ground. Anthony sighed. 

“Would you mind standing up? I want to get a look at you,” he asked, trying his best not to let his frustration show. He would rather be doing literally anything else right now, but that wasn’t the pup’s fault. The Pet seemed to tremble for a moment, before scrambling to his feet. Anthony looked him up and down, finding he was correct in his estimation of the Pet’s height. The Pet’s pitch black hair had been buzzed short, and of course, a thin white collar had been fastened around his neck. Sitting atop his head were a pair of fluffy dog ears, those of a German Shepherd, if he were to speculate on breed, and the outline of a tail stuffed down one leg of the pants was visible. The sides of the Pet’s head, where his human ears would normally be, was smoothed over and covered by hair. How intriguing.

It bothered Anthony that the Pet still kept his head bowed, so after taking a moment to gather his courage, he took the Pet by his chin and tilted his head foreword, but the Pet flinched and his eyes remained squeezed shut. Anthony quietly commanded him, “Look me in the eyes.” 

———————————————————————

G-22985 flinched as Master grabbed his chin. He knew he wasn’t supposed to react negatively to Master’s touch, so he braced for a strike to correct his error, but no such strike came. He mentally scolded himself, since the Handlers weren’t around to do it: Bad Pet! You’re a worthless excuse for a Pet! You’d better hope Master doesn’t send you back for being so useless! You’re nothing but a defective disappointment!

As much as G-22985 hated to think of himself that way, he knew that he had to remind himself somehow. He always had a hard time remembering his place, thinking he was a person, sometimes even trying to escape. I tried to escape from Master Liam, and look where that got me. Refurbished and resold, like an object. He didn’t know why the thought of being an object made him so mad; that’s what he was, after all. He knew he probably needed more retraining, because even after the Trainers had taught him how to be good again, he had only been at this new place for a little while already been bad! What a disgrace of a Pet he was.

He shut his eyes tight as Master tilted G-22985’s chin upwards, he didn’t want to accidentally look at Master’s face. 

“Look me in the eyes,” Master ordered him, but that was bad! He was never to look Master in the face, never mind the eyes! But, Master had commanded, and he had to obey Master’s commands. 

Making up his dumb Pet mind, he reluctantly obeyed and looked into Master’s eyes. Instead of the coldness, anger, or blow to the face that he was expecting, he saw an analysis that he recognized. Master was studying him, which was good as far as G-22985 was concerned, it meant that Master hadn’t made up his mind yet. It meant that maybe he still had a chance to be good. 

———————————————————————

God, the Pet was even hotter up close. Anthony felt extremely wrong for thinking that, but it was true. The Pet’s deep brown eyes captivated him, so full of fear. He made note of a scar on the Pet’s lips, a small vertical line which started above the top lip and finished below the bottom lip. Considering everything that Pets went through for their training, it was a miracle that that was the only defect. He suddenly didn’t think he could bring himself to treat the Pet like, well, a pet. Which raised the question: what in the world was he going to do with him? He certainly couldn’t send him back, both for fear of his mother, and for fear for the Pet’s safety. 

Anthony broke eye contact and removed his hand from the Pet’s chin, causing the Pet to fall back to his prostrated position. Anthony chuckled under his breath at the Pet’s ridiculous display, causing the Pet to flinch, and Anthony to recognize his mistake immediately. “I’m gonna order Pizza for dinner. You can eat Pizza, right?” he asked, making an effort to be gentle. 

“Whatever pleases you, Master,” the Pet said automatically. This unnerved Anthony, but he didn’t have the energy to address it right then. Whatever conditioning the Pet was under, Anthony wasn’t even sure it was his place to undo it. The Pet had signed up for it, so clearly he wanted to be like that. Though he supposed that the Pet belonged to him now, so he could do whatever he wanted with him. 

That thought sent a pang through Anthony’s chest as he looked down to the Pet, kneeling loyally on the floor before him, not daring to raise his head.

“Listen, you can sit on the couch until the Pizza gets here, ok?” he told the Pet, not really expecting an answer, but surprisingly, the Pet’s trembling voice quietly rose from below. It was a pitiful sound, like a scared dog during a thunderstorm. 

Anthony didn’t know what to do, he wanted to comfort the Pet, but how? How in the world does one comfort a person they a) just met, and b) literally own? He supposed that, if the Pet had been trained to act like an animal, maybe petting him would work. And so, as much as he was dying of embarrassment to do so, Anthony crouched down and caressed the Pet across his head, finding his hair (fur?) quite soft and pleasant to the touch.

———————————————————————

G-22985 couldn’t take it anymore. Yet again, Master had ordered him to behave as a person rather than a Pet, and yet again, memories of his time in training flashed through his mind. Memories of electricity coursing through his neck, memories of his Handlers’ voices in his newly sensitive ears. He remembered a lesson he had, one of the first he had ever been taught, that he was never to sit on furniture because furniture is for people, and he was just a lowly Pet. He remembered being beaten within an inch of his worthless life when he had forgotten this rule while serving Master Liam, he could have sworn he could still feel the blows land even months later. He just couldn’t bring himself to break that rule again. But still, Master had ordered him, and he couldn’t disobey. Master Liam had given him double binds like this too, and he hadn’t known what to do then. Now he knew though, he also knew he was being a coward, not able to take a beating like a good Pet should. He just couldn’t bring its body to move, knowing what was coming. He was being so bad! Bad, bad, bad, bad…

G-22985 didn’t realize he had been whimpering until Master crouched down and touched his hair, petting him right between his ears. He was glad, he finally had the opportunity to be good. He leaned into the touch, careful not to deviate from his position while still demonstrating the required level of appreciation for Master’s affection.

He felt good to be touched kindly after his intense refurbishing. He dared to think that maybe he would be ok here, if Master was touching him like that. This meant that Master wanted a pet and not just a guard dog, that maybe Master would give him more of these kind touches, if he was good. There was a reason he was part Platonic, right? But Master was being so confusing, one minute ordering him to cover himself because he couldn’t stand the sight of his repulsive body, the next touching him so gently. Master had given him a trick order, but then when he had been bad, as he was doomed to be, Master had touched him like only a good Pet deserves to be touched.

The horrifying realization struck G-22985 as Master continued to pet him; it hadn’t been a trick order, it had been a test, which he had failed. He had failed by putting on the clothes, he had failed by standing up, and only when he remembered his place and stayed on the ground had Master rewarded him with affection. He had been so caught up in being good and obeying Master, that he had forgotten how to be a proper Pet. He knew that Master knew this too, and he knew he was in for the punishment of a lifetime. Still, Master was touching him so kindly, so maybe if he begged, he had a chance of lessening the inevitable hell.

———————————————————————

Suddenly, the Pet stopped his shaking and completely froze. His whimpering turned to sobs, “I know ah-I’ve b-been bad-d, I have f-failed Master’s tests-ts and n-know I deserve p-punishment. I w-will be a good P-Pet, I pr-promise! I will d-do anything to m-make Master happy, I will f-f-follow-w any order g-given, I will n-never be bad, only good! I will k-keep Master ab-absolutely s-s-safe and ha-happy, I swear. I beg of you to-to h-have mercy on-n this-s pathetic cr-creature!”

Anthony was perplexed. He wondered what in the world he’d done to make the Pet think he was in trouble. Had it been the petting? He wished his mother had warned him before sending him the Pet, at least then he could have read the damn online manual. But no, now he had a crying Pet kneeling at his feet, begging for mercy over some perceived infraction. Anthony sighed, and the Pet flinched and went silent. Anthony couldn’t help it, he sighed again, and predictably, the Pet flinched. He would have to get that habit in check.

“Pet, what do you think you did wrong?” Anthony asked, hoping to get a better idea of what was going on in his head.

The Pet’s voice was quiet and strained, but still he answered, “I p-p-put on clothes, Master, which-ch is bad. I st-stood up on my h-hind paws, Master, w-which is bad. I fl-flinched at your t-t-touch, Master, which i-is bad. I know what I did-d w-was bad an-and I d-d-deserve to be p-punished, yet I b-beg your m-mercy, Master.”

Oh, Anthony realized, this is my fault.

He whispered softly to the Pet, trying his best not to be frustrated, and just now getting the inkling that he might have been in over his head, “Hey hey, it’s alright. You’re not in trouble, I’m not going to punish you. You don’t have to sit on the couch if you don’t want to, I just thought it might be more comfortable than the floor. Just, please stop crying, ok?”

The sobbing abruptly halted, and Anthony resisted the urge to sigh again, as he knew he’d been anything but comforting. Also, his plan of ‘Pizza at the table and talk about what the fuck we’re going to do’ would have to be adjusted, seeing the Pet’s reaction to being invited to sit on the couch. Anthony had the sinking feeling that mealtime would be an even bigger hassle. He had no idea what he could possibly do to get the Pet to, if not trust him, then at least give him the time of day without expecting retribution. He decided to give the Pet some space while he thought things over.

“I’m just going to sit over there and order the pizza, you don’t have to go on the couch, but you don’t have to stay kneeling like that either. Just… sit how you’re comfortable,” Anthony instructed as he slowly got up from the floor.

“I remember my pl-place, Master, a lowly P-Pet like m-me knows not-t to sully the f-f-furniture, I’ll b-be good,” he declared in more of a plea than a statement, his voice barely above a whisper and still clearly choked up from crying.

Anthony shrugged and moved to a nearby armchair. He made a point of not looking at the Pet, even though he really wanted to, but even so, the Pet didn’t dare move a muscle from his position. Well, if the pet didn’t want to move, Anthony wasn’t going to force him. He ordered the pizza, and then went to the MP website and brought up the online Owner’s Manual. What he found was, in one word, sickening.

Anthony didn’t live under a rock; he knew that Pets didn’t have it easy, but this was nothing but gratuitous cruelty. The ethos of the manual seemed to be all stick and no carrot, to put it nicely. The manual specifically advised to punish behaviors which were person like, such as sitting on furniture, which really put the past half hour into perspective. That poor pup. There is no way in hell I’m doing any of that, thought Anthony as he read further and further, but the question remained, what am I going to do then?

[whumpshaped]

from this @skittles-the-whumpee

Prison whump where the whumpee is innocent but framed so warden whumper can get their hands on them.

tw wrongful/unfair conviction, abuse of authority, abuse of power, implied noncon, huge injustice within prison system

whumpee is livid and terrified at the same time because they didn't do it!!! this is unfair!!! this is ridiculous!!!

no one believes them. it's like they're talking to a brick wall. no evidence has enough weight to get them out

however they have to sit there and watch as the "evidence" piles up against them: forged paperwork, forged text messages, forced foot- and fingerprints

maybe they don't know whumper at all, not from before. they don't suspect they had anything to do with framing them

but maybe they do know them. maybe whumper is an old rival. an ex lover. some creepy stalker. whatever the case, whumpee's blood runs cold when they see them

whumper keeps getting them into trouble, reporting them, framing them again and again, getting them into solitary confinement

and as soon as they're alone, whumper drops the facade. it's not like anyone would believe whumpee later. hell, half the people think whumpee is out of their mind anyway

no one cares for whumpee's tears. or screams. or bruises. ruined clothing. or the handprints on their body.

whumper is an esteemed employee, very good worker, respected and beloved. untouchable from whumpee's position

maybe whumpee gets let out later on, because they realise they were wrongfully convicted

maybe their sentence is just over and they're never given any semblance of actual justice

either way they're jumpy and traumatised and looked at as a criminal

or maybe. if no one realises the mistake and their sentence isn't one that will just end. they'll have to come to terms with spending the rest of their life like that, in a cell. they can't wait until whumper changes jobs or gets bored or retires. they just want peace