#muzzled whumpee

[abhainnwhump]

Whumper keeping non-human Whumpees in a "zoo".

They kidnap them, buy them, maybe even make them in their own basement lab. They could even be a world-jumper and collect Whumpees across the world. Whumper gives their pets pretty little collars, muzzles, and forces makes them look their best. Then they teach them how to do tricks, hours upon hours on end. Even if Whumpee is exhausted out of their mind, they still have to put on a show. The residents that come to the zoo are mostly other Whumpers, but there are a few naive innocent people who wandered in by mistake.

[sillygoose1777]

Chapter 1: Auction

Word Count: 3119

Trigger Warnings/tags : Auction sale, mentions of abuse, mild blood, whumpees kept as pets, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, carewhumper, og characters, supernatural/nonhuman whumpees, supernatural/nonhuman whumpers, mind reading whumpee, guard dog whumpee, muzzled whumpee, dehumanization (from whumpers), burns from silver, drugged whumpee, mentions of needles

Hudson observed everything with interest as they stepped out of the carriage. He stepped to the side and offered his hand to Zenith. He took it, using it to aid him down the steps. Hudson let go as soon as Zenith touched the ground. Zenith gave a small nod to the carriage driver and they shut the door before getting in the front to find a parking spot. Hudson assumed his position slightly behind Zenith as they walked into the building before them. 

Zenith was graciously invited to one of the biggest pet buying events. Every month he would scout out a few to be bought and retrained so that he could sell them at a much higher price. Hudson didn’t always go with him, but whenever he did he never enjoyed it much. It was hard to block out the thoughts of products. They were always in a lot of pain, at least the ones that were sold on the main floor. If Zenith wanted any of the pretty ones, they were at the wrong auction.

Zenith stopped in front of the door, looking over his shoulder at Hudson. “I want you to pay close attention to the products on display. Find something you like.” Hudson nodded curtly, no verbal response necessary. Zenith looked in front of him again and opened the doors wide. 

Immediately, Hudson was hit with a wall of fear from the products and pure smugness from the sellers. There were stands set up as closely to each other as possible to fit as many as they could. To the left of the main floor was a maze of stands selling creatures and objects alike. On the right was the auction stage with rows of seats set up in front of it. The auction wasn’t going to begin for another half hour, plenty of time to glance over a few stands. 

Zenith led the way pausing a few times to look at creatures or blades that caught his interest. Anytime Zenith inspected a creature in a cage, Hudson would pretend he couldn’t hear their thoughts. Couldn’t hear them hoping to be bought or the opposite, hoping that they wouldn’t. But then Zenith would move on and Hudson could truly push it out of his mind. 

As Zenith was talking to a stand worker selling different types of poisons, Hudson let his gaze wander. His eye caught on a small stand behind them with a small creature working furiously. They were molding molten metal with their bare hands, not a burn showing up on their skin. Hudson was fascinated, watching as they shaped it as they liked, then dropped it in a bucket of water. The hot metal instantly sizzled, cooling down before the creature pulled it out again. They examined it for imperfections before placing it on a table near them with nearly identical blades made. 

As Hudson continued to watch, he observed the creature more closely then he did its work. They were small and frail, their bones barely covered by a layer of skin and muscle. Bruises and unhealed cuts littered their body, making it evident that either they disobeyed often or their owner was unnecessarily cruel. They were muzzled with a silver cage that left red marks on their skin from how tight it was. Its ears were flat against their head, tail tucked between their legs, showing every sign of fear except in their hands. A silver collar was strapped around its throat that chained them to the stand, leaving no room for escape. 

“Do you want to look at that one?” Zenith asked. Hudson looked at Zenith and followed his gaze to the same stand he was previously looking at. Hudson gave a simple nod, so Zenith led the way over. 

Being closer to the creature, he expected to pick up on thoughts of fear, but he didn’t. Instead its mind was quiet with the thought of working. He couldn't even tell if the creature knew that they had walked up. Moving his attention away from the creature, he noticed all the finished blades laid out on the table. They were beautiful. All handcrafted and fused with some kind of pretty rock or gem. 

“Like what you see?” 

Even though Hudson knew the man wasn’t addressing him, he looked up anyways. He was rugged and mean looking, a stark comparison to the skittish creature off to his side. Zenith continued to admire the blades before responding. 

“Are all of these your handiwork?” Zenith asked. 

“Yes sir. Everyone of them,” the man said, clearly taking ownership of the creature's labor. 

Zenith picked one off of the table and examined it closely. It was made of iron and infused with amethyst. It was certainly a blade made for display and not meant to be used in combat. Nonetheless it was still impressive. Zenith handed it to the man's outstretched hands, intending to buy it. The man grabbed the creature, making them drop the metal they were modeling onto the ground, and dragged them in front of himself. The creature cowered in his grip but didn’t struggle. The man straightened their arm and brought the blade down from their elbow to its wrist. The creature hissed in pain and sank to their knees when the man let go of it, holding their arm close. The blade slightly glowed from the blood dripping from it, before it evaporated like it never had been there. 

Hudson was barely able to contain his astonishment while Zenith acted indifferent. Zenith took the blade with grace then walked away with Hudson at his tail. Hudson glanced over his shoulder and saw the man yelling at the creature to get back to work. Hudson turned his attention to what was in front of him. It wouldn’t do him any good to get attached. That was the mantra that he repeated over and over in his head. 

…

Kori was relieved when the blade-maker took off his collar and threw him into his cage underneath the table. He shrank away from the silver bars that lined the cage, careful not to burn himself. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he looked for his only possession. A measly blanket, dark blue with a yellow star pattern overlapping it. It was stiff and soiled with blood and god knows what else. But no matter how much it needed a wash, it was his. He had stolen it the first time the blade-maker brought him to the medics, and too tired from wrangling him there, the blade-maker let him keep it. 

The blanket was almost three times his size, though he was a small creature compared to most. Nonetheless, it made it easy to hide underneath. His shield against the world, against his makeshift darkness. Kori curled up underneath his blanket, making sure to not leave any limbs sticking out. 

A table cloth covered the table and most of his cage, blocking most of Kori’s view of the passerbys. He watched their feet walk past, never pausing to come close enough. It was cold, a lot colder than Kori was used to. It didn’t help that the blade-maker often isolated him away from any kind of fire or sunlight, giving him no opportunity to build up his magma. Kori knew better than to steal heat from the hot metal so he could heal his wounds. He had done it once and when the blade-maker found out, he beat Kori till he could hardly make sense of the world. He was immediately sent to the medics afterwards, but it was a lesson well learned. 

Kori wanted to go home, wherever that was. He was never allowed out except to the marketplace or to the medics. Otherwise, he was underground shaping and fusing blades. It was better than anticipating when a buyer would walk up and he would have to spill blood to seal the blade. The cut down his arm stung painfully, making him aware of it again. 

Focusing on one part of his pain only made the rest seem so much worse. He closed his eyes and pressed his head against the cool steel plating of his cage. Despite himself, he felt himself getting tired. His eyes heavy and breathing evenly, he hoped that when he woke up that he would be back in his basement bedroom. 

…

Zenith found a spot in the front row of chairs, giving him an excellent view of the stage. His guard dog sat in the seat next to him, though he figured Hudson wouldn’t be paying attention to the show. Zenith didn’t really care if he did. He eyed the stage, watching as workers of the event raced back and forth to get last minute preparations in place. Shortly after, a finely dressed man came on stage. The man picked up a microphone and began speaking to his audience. 

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to our monthly creature auction. We have over 30 creatures to display and auction off today, so be ready to bid. After all creatures have been displayed, speak to one of the staff and they will help sort out transactions. If any assistance is needed to transport your new pets, please speak to a courier outside. We will begin the show shortly.”

There was a small round of applause as the man left the stage. Zenith had already scouted out the creatures he wanted, most of them being breeds he had already worked with. A few of his clients were already looking for more pets when his stock was low. As soon as he could get ownership of a few creatures, he was going to send them to all his available personal trainers. By the next auction, he should have all these ones sold and waiting to buy the next batch. 

Though there was one creature that would be displayed that he had an extra keen eye on. He had been observing Hudson’s behavior for the past few months, and deduced that he was experiencing loneliness. Zenith already had another pet for Hudson to mingle with, though Hudson wasn’t one to be very social with others. He had tried spending more time with Hudson beyond his working hours, but it made little to no difference. So he decided he was going to get Hudson a companion, one he could truly bond with. Zenith was already wanting a third pet anyways, so it was practically hitting two birds with one stone. 

Zenith had allowed Hudson to examine the creatures on sale at the market before the auction to get an idea of what he wanted. Thankfully, Hudson found something. A small creature, one that looked like a fox. Its blade making skills and fire wielding abilities were definitely something that intrigued the both of them. Zenith figured he would have to retrain the fox given the conditioning it must have gone through. He thought about retraining the fox with Hudson, it could bring them closer together. It was certainly an idea to think about. 

Zenith brought his attention back to the stage when two workers pulled a cage into view. The announcer from before took his place on the stage. He took hold of the corner of the cloth that covered the cage before swiftly pulling it off. Inside was a standard Tursian, most likely already trained as a guard dog. It was tied down in a stress position to best display it while keeping it still. Zenith vaguely remembered Hudson being displayed the same way when he had bought him. 

The auction passed by as fast as it could for any bored onlookers. After buying a few creatures, Zenith reserved his attention for keeping a look out for the fox. Otherwise, he was thinking of who to contact for its first medical checkup. Zenith always benchmarked where his pets' health was when he first got them, if only so he could get an idea of what he was working with. Finally, as if watching a prized possession being passed around, Zenith eyed the last cage to be rolled on stage. The announcer picked up his mic and began to speak to the audience.

“This is the last creature on display for tonight's auction, I repeat, last creature on display.”

The announcer then quickly pulled off the cloth, revealing the little fox inside. It was on its knees with a collar tightly wrapped around its throat, a chain attached to it, tying it to the floor of the cage. Its hands were cuffed to its ankles, keeping the fox in place. Its tail was tucked underneath it, keeping it close to its body like its ears flat against its head. Zenith watched as its chest heaved with fear, barely able to voice a whimper with the muzzle clamped around its jaw. 

After a couple minutes of letting the audience observe what it was buying, the bidding began. Zenith quickly jumped in, not wanting anyone else to get a lead on him. Little by little he bought out his competitors, until no one else dared name a price higher than his. The auctioneer called it at forty-two thousand, naming Zenith the buyer. He grinned with glee, a rare sight to most.

The workers of the event cleared the stage and Zenith stood to leave. Hudson followed him as he made his way to a nearby staff member. They scanned his buyer’s ID and brought him to the back to let him have a closer look at what he bought. One by one, he was brought to each of their cages. He would sign all the necessary paperwork, write a check, then tell a moving staff where his trucks would be parked. When they reached the cage the fox was in, the staff member handed him a booklet. 

“What is this?” He asked. 

“It’s an infographic of this particular species. It is not one we commonly auction off, so health, safety, and training guidelines are different then what you might be used to,” the staff member informed. 

Zenith briefly flipped through the booklet. “A lynx?” he asked aloud, reading the title of the booklet. 

“Yes sir. They’re from the saturnine desert. They seem to act similar to foxes, if that gives you an idea of what to expect.” Zenith chuckled to himself at the thought that he wasn’t that far off for assuming the lynx was a fox. 

Zenith held out his hand for the clipboard to sign the paperwork needed. The staff member handed it over and he signed the pages quickly. He quickly wrote out a check for forty-two thousand dollars and handed both over to the staff member. 

“Would you like it to be placed with your other purchases?” The staff member asked, taking the items from Zenith. 

“Actually I have a kennel in my carriage I would like it placed in. Easier for transporting into the house,” Zenith mused. 

“Of course,” the staff member mimicked Zenith's tone. “Would sedating the creature be of help to you?” 

“What kinds of sedatives do you have?” 

“We have a wide range, from muscle relaxers to serums that’ll keep your pet out for days.” Zenith imagined he could hear the fox whimpering. 

“I think something that’ll keep it out till tomorrow morning will do.”

“Of course. We’ll have a courier bring your pet to your carriage, and a technician will meet you out there to administer the sedative. Sounds good?”

Zenith nodded and the staff member snapped at a courier nearby to get their attention. The courier came near and listened to the instructions the staff member gave them. They then followed Zenith out to his carriage, bringing the lynx with them. The technician met them there as the courier was unlatching the top off of the cage. The lynx struggled away from the technician as much as it could in the chains. In the end it was futile, as the technician stuck them in the neck with a needle. 

The technician capped the used needle and gave the lynx a small pet. “See? Wasn’t so bad,” they chirped. “Now you’ll get to sleep easy on your ride home.” The technician turned to Zenith, speaking to him in a normal voice. “Have a good evening sir, safe travels.” 

The technician left, and the courier followed shortly after once they had unchained the lynx. The lynx shrank into the corners of the cage, trying to fight against the sedatives. Zenith knelt down by the cage and offered his hand for it to sniff. The lynx tried to focus its eyes on him, daring not to move closer. Zenith gently pet the spot behind its ears, gently guiding the lynx to close its eyes. Once he was sure that the lynx was under, Zenith stood up and bent over the cage to pick it up. He noticed there was a blanket scrunched up underneath it, something hidden from his earlier view. He picked both of them up, realizing how disgusting the blanket was. He put it on his to-do list to wash it. 

Zenith waited patiently as Hudson opened the door of the carriage. He balanced the lynx carefully in his arms as he climbed up the steps, Hudson following in after him. They sat down on opposite sides, with Hudson sitting next to a kennel that Zenith had brought. He had intended to put whatever his new found pet was in it, but while cradling the lynx close, Zenith almost couldn’t bear letting it go. Then he heard his phone ring. Zenith grumbled and despite him trying to shift the lynx over, he couldn’t hold it and its blanket while trying to manage a phone call.

“Could you hold it for me?” Zenith asked Hudson, offering the lynx to him. Hudson quietly took it into his arms, wrapping the blanket around the lynx and holding it close. Zenith pulled out his annoying phone and answered the call.

As the other person talked, he looked outside the window and watched as the world passed by. In the corner of his eye, he watched as Hudson looked at the lynx with a new found sense of love. It was a look Zenith had never seen on him, and one that looked quite well on his dog. Zenith smiled to himself as he turned to look back at the window, glad of his brilliant idea to get a third pet. 

Thank you!!

(lmk if you want to be added to the tag-list)

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

I adore muzzling Whumpees. 

A face mask over a muzzle as Whumper drags Whumpee through a crowded area. Whumpee knows exactly what will happen to them if they make a scene.

The deep red marks on Whumpee’s face as their muzzle is removed for the first time in months. The way they struggle to speak again after days of having it on. The first word they manage to croak out is “water”.

Whumpee refuses to take some kind of pill, so Whumper stuffs it into their mouth and covers their lips with duct tape. Either they swallow willingly or it gets dissolved in their mouth, but they’re taking it.

Whumpee so terrified and hysterical that they can only sob and hyperventilate behind the duct tape, struggling to get enough air without their mouth. All they can do is sob, choking on their own tears and spit.

Whumpee sitting in the bathtub as Caretaker carefully tries to remove the duct tape wrapped around Whumpee’s head. They whisper apologies whenever Whumpee flinches.

Rescuers not having enough time to un-muzzle Whumpee. They just pick the bound and silenced Whumpee up and run. 

Whumpee only being able to communicate through muffled grunts through their muzzle, but still desperately trying to communicate with Caretaker.

[spicywhumper]

Hi, show me the muzzle your whumpee would wear. Here's the one Scarlet wears :)

found it on Pinterest

[midwinter-whump]

LD Lab Rats Pt. 8

Blood, Blaster shot wound, dehumanization, muzzle

"Liithal. Come on, kid. Say something."

Teeth sinking into her shoulder, pinning her to the ground.

"Whatever he did to you, you're stronger than this."

Her breath leaking out slowly as her muscles lock up.

"You have people counting on you."

A sharp thread being pulled from deep in her chest, as if her very soul is being extracted. The world becomes a little darker, and her awareness dims.

Liithal finally turned her gaze to Jay, but she felt numb and disconnected.

"There you are. You were starting to worry me, kid." By the look of his face, he was still worried. But Liithal was guessing since she couldn't sense his emotions anymore.

Her own voice was much more flat and rough than normal when she spoke, "I'm.... okay."

Jay frowned and scrunched his eyebrows. "I hope so. While I was out today I overheard the pirates talking about their sensors going off. I think we need to be ready to go soon."

While parameter sensors could go off at storms, wildlife, a particularly big wave, Liithal deeply hoped that meant her friends were scouting out a way to break in. The prospect lifted her spirits. "Even if they get to us, these cells are locked. Look what happened when I tried to break you out!"

"Which is why we will be keeping tabs on Nordue and his tablet. I have been keeping notes on places he sets it down. And if one of us is with him when they break in, we'll steal it."

"It... isn't much of a plan."

"I know. But there are a lot of unknown factors. We will have to improvise based on where we all are, and on the escape plan of the rest of your squad. For now, we focus on being able to get that tablet and get back here to free everyone. We'll meet our ride on the way out."

Yeah. Unknown factors. "But what about the droid?"

"You'll have to learn how to use the Force enough push it away."

That was... Not ideal. "But I'm not talented with that. I have always been able to feel the flow of the Force through other creatures, but I can't wield it like a Jedi. And I have tried."

"Being able to feel it is usually the hardest part. You just have to feel the flow through objects as well, and-" he cut himself off when the door opened.

Nordue strode down the hallway and paused between Jay and Liithal. The tension could be cut with a knife. He pointed to Jay, "Move that one to chamber twenty."

Liithal's breath picked up, anger and fear boiled in her. She stood and kicked the barrier, "You can't do that!" She couldn't lose the only person she had to talk to. Her only source of comfort and connection.

Nordue gave her a cold look, "I am removing an uncontrolled element in your environment. A subject needs specific conditions to achieve the desired results. And an element conspiring to alter your abilities? Well we can't have that."

Of course! Why would Liithal not assume Nordue could listen to them? "You can't control us! Whatever you want me to be, you'll fail! I will never give in!"

"If you feel so strongly, then I supposed you are strong enough for another session to prep for your role." He opened her cell and gestured for her to follow.

There was a short moment with both cells open where Liithal and Jay made eye contact. The droid was dealing with him, and Nordue with her. They didn't say anything, didn't need to. They just acted.

With his cuffs magnetized to the droid, Jay pulled himself up and in a single motion used his momentum to flip them both over and slam the droid into the ground.

At the same time, Liithal lurched forward and sank her teeth into Nordue's thigh. He shouted and kicked her off, but she came right back and kicked the side of his leg as hard as she could. He fell down to his knee, which made him finally short enough for her to yank him by his shirt and headbutt his face.

Jay took the tablet and ran to the next cell to free whoever was inside, "Change of plan. We move now!"

Jay had the doors open quickly, although they quickly realized many of the prisoners here were going to need physically dragged out. Liithal's heart dropped because they didn't have time for all of that.

"FU-03!" Nordue choked out, "Intervene!"

The twi'lek stepped from his room. He dashed forward to Liithal, and she dodged away. "Kes! Stop! I won't fight you."

Jay grabbed Kes from behind and restrained him, "You're not going to break through to him! Just go! I'll catch up."

Liithal's eyes welled with tears. The last thing she wanted was to leave anyone behind! A blaster shot hit the wall next to her head and everyone froze. Nordue stood, blood trailing from his nose. "Move again and I'll do more then a warning shot."

Liithal's mind raced. She wasn't fast enough to get the blaster before she was shot. Could she talk her way out of this? "You- You can't shoot me. You need me."

Without a word, Nordue swung the blaster over and shot Jay in the leg.

"NO!" Liithal was at Jay's side by the time he hit the ground. He softly swore, his breath carefully controlled and his energy focused on handling the pain.

"While you are my main subject," Nordue said calmly, even as blood from his bite wound spotted the white tile floor, "The others are disposable. And as I noted earlier, you are soft. You will be eaten by guilt should you cause of one of these other specimens be killed because of you."

Jay gripped Liithal's wrist, "Just go."

She looked up at Nordue, who seemed to be basically daring her to try it. And she knew if she did people would die. She stood slowly, her hands out where they could be seen, "I surrender. Don't shoot."

Nordue grinned, and retrieved his tablet. Barriers over the rooms went back up, "FU-03, take FU-14 to chamber twenty. FU-15, with me."

Liithal bared her teeth at him, "Fuck you." He grabbed the back of her jumpsuit and dragged her along.

"We really must do something about that mouth of yours," Nordue spoke.

He took her to the exam room, and strapped just one of her arms to the table and left her standing next to it. He stuck a stimpak into his leg, then opened a drawer. "I had this made special for you. It should cure your little biting problem, and as an added bonus, just you up." He turned around and Liithal saw some kind of cup-shaped metal cage with straps on it.

"What is that?"

"See, this is what I am talking about. A good weapon doesn't question or talk back. It does what its owner makes it do."

He stepped closer and Liithal pulled away as far as she could with her arm stuck. He reached up to hold her face and she shook her head violently and swatted his hand away, "Don't!"

Nordue ignored her. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and shoved the cage over her snout and buckled the straps behind her head. The device was snug. She couldn't open her mouth more than a tiny bit, she knew she wouldn't be able to eat with this. She pulled at it with her hand, which Nordue snatched and stuck her cuffs together, "None of that now. If you want to act like an animal, I will treat you as one."

Liithal tried to retort, but the only sound that came out was slurred beyond understanding. It was a very specific way to humiliate her, robbing her of her speech. Liithal had spent months when she first got to space unable to speak to anyone without a translator. There were few things that made her feel more helpless than not being able to communicate.

Nordue clipped a lead to the muzzle before freeing her hands. He clicked his tongue and tugged the leash like she was some kind of animal. And she stumbled and caught herself on her hands.

"There you are. You're starting to really look usable now."

Liithal felt shame burning her up. She silently prayed for Sol to find her and get her out of here soon.

[doyouevermakeasound]

Febuwhump Prompt Day 3: Muzzled CW: Muzzled whumpee

Whumper was getting tired of the string of vitriol coming from whumpee.  They just wanted to have fun but the constant cursing, belittling, and threats coming from them was annoying.  

They walked away from whumpee bound in the middle of the room.  Whumpee craned their neck to see where whumper was walking to behind them.

“What?  Is that all you got?”  

Whumper could hear the high of a victory, albeit small, on whumpee’s voice.  They smiled to themselves as they searched through the cabinet, not saying anything.  They had the perfect solution.

“Cat got your tongue?  Pathetic.”  Whumpee spat.

Whumper found what they had been looking for: the muzzle.  Although dusty and the leather stiff, it was a muzzle nonetheless.  They returned to the middle of the room and slipped the muzzle on, tightening the leather close to their skin.

Whumpee screamed underneath the leather of the muzzle.  

“That’s so much better.  I can work in piece now.”

@febuwhump

[blackberry-bloody]

Did this as a loose redraw of an older whump piece (below the cut)!

This is Ian! He doesn't get enough love, despite how much I adore him.

That feeling when you're a prince but being trained as a living weapon in a lab, and your shitty dad mind-wiped any memories people would have of you so you know you're entirely on your own. And even your mentor is hired by your dad so even though he tries to help and caretake you, he still qualifies as a whumper. <3

(the old art this is based on)

[cakeinthevoid]

I was rereading an old work to continue and I just had to share my favourite part I wrote so far :)) Content: Interrogation scene excerpt; slightly inhuman whumpee; muzzled (not explicit); detention; restrained

The detective leaned forward. “See, I don’t think that makes sense.” 

Dang. Guess not. 

“So why would you lie about that?” 

Double dang. 

He stayed silent, clearly wanting her to speak up. 

Auretta resisted and counted the seconds. 

About two and a half minutes later he stood up. Auretta jerked back. 

“Relax, I’m leaving.” The buzzer sounded. “I’m leaving ,” he repeated. 

Auretta felt a panic bloom. 

“Wait,” she coughed out, interrupting her rhythm. “Wait, don’t, I’m sorry, please don’t go.” She coughed and tried to restart her breathing pattern through gritted teeth.

The man sighed. “I want to help you, I really do, but this only works if you’re answering truthfully. You’ve lied, at least partially, at least three times in the past however many minutes. Not to mention the obvious limitation with the mask—” 

“I’ll speak. I’ll talk. Please don’t go.” If she were alone, she would only be able to focus on the chains, the muzzle —no, at the very least, she needed the stimulation.

The detective looked sad. She only caught the expression for a moment before he masked it with unreadability. 

“Okay.” He sat back down. “What do you want to talk about then?”

Continues here! 

[whump-softie]

If I can add…

Typical, proper muzzles in real life (for dogs) leave plenty of space for panting, barking, eating, drinking, all of that. It just prevents biting.

So imagine this on both ends of the spectrum on a whumpee.

A simple cage around Whumpee’s jaw. They can still speak (if they had the permission to), they can still move and breathe and eat (when food is provided), and everything in between. It’s more of a decorative piece. Even better if they had a biting habit that Whumper wanted to discourage.

But then… a tight, insufferable muzzle. Clamps the jaw shut and forces the lips together. Muffles all sounds, and barely lets air in. They can still breathe through their nose, but the panic must be unbearable. Can’t speak, can’t eat, can’t move their jaw without incredible pain and frustration.

Maybe there’s even a mouth-piece? A small piece of the muzzle that fits in the mouth, pushing Whumpee’s tongue back and down, preventing movement of any sort. Almost gagging, they can’t move their neck without discomfort. Panicking when they can’t swallow, can barely breathe…

A muzzle that traps every breath, soaks through from the tears and rubs the bridge and underside of the whumpee’s jaw raw. If they can talk, the words sound muffled and strained with the attempt to make themselves understood. A muzzle that is designed to give a semblance of humanity while still reminding the whumpee of their place.

[whumptellsnolies]

cw: blood, muzzle, stress position

Whumpee hung limply from their manacles, wrists strained by the metal keeping them upright. Their knees were on the stone floor, raw and bleeding, and their head sagged between their taut shoulders. A strip of black fabric was tied tightly across their eyes, complimenting the silvery metal of the muzzle clamping their jaws closed. The extra touch of blood sluggishly running down their back and pooling on the floor was Whumper's favorite part. They loved seeing their precious plaything like this, whimpering and clearly on the edge of unconsciousness. Beautiful.

[letitbehurt]

Whumper having a muzzle fitted around Whumpee’s head even as they scream and struggle against the bit shoved into their mouth, their hands pinned to keep them from yanking at the buckles. Rough leather digging into their skin. Every curse warped into an animal’s whines. They have no weapons now, not even their teeth.

“If you’re going to act like a rabid dog,” Whumper tells them, unmoved by their defiance, “then you’ll be treated like one.”

[sillygoose1777]

Chapter 2: First Night Home

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Word count: 2835

Trigger Warnings/tags : mentions of abuse, whumpees kept as pets, multiple whumpees, carewhumper, og characters, supernatural/nonhuman whumpees, supernatural/nonhuman whumpers, mind reading whumpee, guard dog whumpee, muzzled whumpee, dehumanization (from whumpers), drugged whumpee, non con stripping, unconscious whumpee, og ocs, og world, og story, mentions of past abuse, mentions of medical whump, neglectful carewhumper, attention seeking whumpee, defiant (kind of) whumpee, talkative whumpee, quiet whumpee, possessive whumper (kind of), clingy whumpee, rich whumper

Other notes: Btw Kori (the lynx) is about the size of a toddler. Valerian LOVEs Zenith and often needs a lot of attention from him. Hudson is a tursian (og species), Valerian is a harpy, Kori is a lynx (og species), and Zenith is a dragon breed. 

Hudson watched as Zenith went inside the house to finish his phone call. He was still holding the lynx in his arms, not knowing if he should put it down or not. It was a tiny thing, curled up in the crook of his arm with its blanket. He waited until the workers had finished unloading the other pets into Zenith's garage before he took his leave. As soon as he shut the front door behind him, Valerian jumped up from the couch over to him. 

“Hudson! It took you long enough, I wish I could have gone with you guys. Did Zenith find anything? He was on a call just now and completely ignored me. Couldn’t even give me a spare glance,” Valerian rambled on, huffing annoyingly. “What are you holding?” Hudson hesitated before shifting the lynx in his arms to show Valerian. 

“Is that a fox?” Valerian asked, coming close to inspect it. 

“It’s a lynx,” Hudson corrected.

“Close enough.” Valerian reached out and brushed the lynx’s fur out of its face. Hudson tensed slightly but didn’t nothing to stop Valerian. 

“Why are you bringing it inside? Doesn’t Zenith normally keep them in the garage?” Valerian asked.

“It’s Zenith’s new pet.”

“Like us?”

“Like us,” Hudson confirmed. 

Valerian looked down at the lynx again. “Are we not enough?” he whispered. Hudson didn’t answer. Not that he thought they weren’t, but because he wasn’t the one to make the judgment. 

“I’m going to our room,” Hudson said after a moment. 

“What about the lynx?” Valerian asked.

“What about it?” 

“Doesn’t Zenith want to see it or something?” 

“Zenith never took it from me,” Hudson stated, hoping that was enough to keep from getting in trouble with Zenith. Zenith rarely argued against his logic. 

Hudson left the front room and walked deeper into the house. Valerian hesitated for a moment before following closely behind. Hudson led the way in silence while Valerian hummed to himself, letting his wings drag on the floor. When they reached their bedroom, Hudson made a beeline for the beds. He gently laid the lynx on the bed before building a little blanket dome around it. Valerian had takening to jumping up on one of the hanging beds high up that Zenith had installed for Valerian’s benefit. He was watching Hudson work with interest, but not enough to help. 

Once Hudson had finished with building the little fort, he hesitantly left to go look at the bookshelves. Zenith had allowed him to keep a small library, constantly rotating books out for new ones for Hudson to enjoy. There was a small bookshelf where he kept his favorites. He remembered seeing a book about the different species types there were. He found the book and skimmed through the pages. He found the chapter he was looking for and made his way back to the lynx. He sat down on the floor and began reading. 

After a couple of hours, Valerian came down from his bed to join Hudson on the floor. Hudson didn’t look from his book right away, ignoring Valerian. It wasn’t until Valerian started waving his hand in front of Hudson’s face where he looked up, albeit with a glare. 

“What are you reading about?” Valerian asked.

“About lynxes,” Hudson deadpanned, flipping the page. 

Valerian sat down on the floor, resting his head on Hudson’s shoulder. Hudson gave him a sideways glance but otherwise didn’t move. 

“Anything interesting?” Valerian asked.

Hudson sighed and halfway closed his book. “Well, at the market the lynx was being used to create swords. It was able to hold burning red metal without a single burn, and I wanted to know why. It turns out their species is immune to fire, it’s what fuels their mana. The sunlight as well.” 

“Mana? Like what allows us to use our magic?”

“Yes. Everyone relies on mana, you, me, Zenith, everyone. It’s how we are able to use magic. Everyone pulls from some sort of energy source, usually a core element like the sun or the earth.”

“I already knew a lot of that,” Valerian grumbled. Hudson rolled his eyes and opened his book again to read. “But besides that, anything else?”

“Nothing I didn’t already know.”

“Like?” Valerian dragged out the word with annoyance. 

“Like where they’re from and the type of civilization they normally live in,” Hudson mimicked in Valerian’s tone. Valerian huffed with annoyance and seemed to be content with Hudson’s answers. He thought that he might be able to read in silence again. Valerian turned his body where he was still leaning on Hudson but was looking back at the lynx. 

“I feel kind of bad for it,” he said softly. 

Hudson fully gave up on reading and set the book down to look at the lynx with Valerian. “So do I,” he whispered like it was an admit of defeat. 

“I thought they were supposed to be extinct,” Valerian said.

“Why would you think that?” Hudson looked at Valerian. Valerian didn’t meet his eye. 

“I don’t know. I heard Zenith and his business partners talking about it one time. They were saying how some research team made a discovery of ancient history from the lynxes. Said it was a big advancement or something because they couldn’t ask the species themselves.”

Hudson sat back for a moment, trying to remember if he was there for a conversation like that. He couldn’t remember any instance like it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen. He decided to take Valerian’s word for it. 

“If that’s what the world believes and it turns out it's not true, that makes this lynx a one of a kind. Or he is the key to what the researchers need to find the rest of them. Either way that makes it very valuable.” 

“How valuable?” 

“Priceless. Enough to start wars over.”

They sat in silence for the rest of the afternoon, staring at the lynx. Trying to comprehend its importance with its seemingly helplessness. 

…

Zenith finally got off his phone call with a potential buyer. It was something that could have been easily handled by his employees, but the man on the other end of the line only wanted to speak to him. No matter, the phone call was over now and Zenith could get back to his earlier tasks. He looked out his window and saw that the sun was beginning to set. He got up from his desk and left his office. 

He had three things on his list tonight. 1, to make sure the pets from earlier had been properly situated and brought to their correct rooms. 2, to have dinner with his personal pets and update them on tomorrow's plan. And lastly, 3, to get the lynx prepared to see the medic tomorrow. 

Zenith made his way down to the basement, where he normally kept the other pets in his house. His basement was split into three sections, a wine cellar, a supply room for his servants, and the rooms for his other pets, which he called the domestic. He had the domestic remodeled a few years ago so that a hallway cut down the middle with four rooms on each side, making it 8 in total. All of the pets would have their own room, never giving them the opportunity to be completely alone with each other. A bed and bathroom were provided, and they were fed twice a day. Sometimes he would let the pets move in with their trainers, and other times he kept them in his basement until they were ready to be sold.  

He walked down the pristine white hallway and looked through each door's window to make sure there was a pet inside. He would then check the corresponding electronic chart next to the door, making sure it matched up. Once all 8 rooms were checked, Zenith gave the go ahead to his servants to have them fed. From there, the servants would take up the routine, only notifying Zenith if the pets were acting unusual. 

Zenith left the domestic to go back to the ground floor, making a mental reminder to jot down all the trainers he needed to contact in the morning. He arrived at the edge of the kitchen to find a cart of food, like there always was, ready for him. He lifted the metal domes covering the plates to make sure it had everything they were supposed to. A greener diet for Valerian to keep up his appearances, and a more protein based diet for Hudson to build up strength. He set the domes back down and pulled the cart behind him to his pet’s room. 

He gently knocked on their door before entering with the cart behind them. The room was one of the biggest in the house, almost the same size as one of his ballrooms. He had many walls knocked out in this room to make sure it was big enough. On one side were his pets beds and their own little areas for their hobbies. On the other was a dining area, a hallway that led to a large bathroom, and a small library. Behind the dining table were large arching windows that lead out to a balcony, though he always kept those doors locked. And above it all was a mini jungle gym that had anything from hanging beds to enrichment toys like stings and perches, all installed for Valerian. Even though it was meant for a harpy, he made it accessible for anyone to get up, though it would take a lot more effort. 

His two pets looked up from where they were sitting on the floor of the beds. Valerian immediately got up and rushed over to Zenith, wanting his attention. He was happy to provide, giving Valerian a very welcoming hug. When he pulled back, Valerian was already talking.

“--your meeting? Did it go well? It seemed really long for just a normal phone call. Me and Hudson were waiting here for you the whole time. Mostly talking about lynxes and stuff. Oh! The lynx you got is so cute!! He’s all curled up in a little ball with his tail tucked, you should come see.”

Valerian was sprinting back to where Hudson was, who hadn’t moved once from his spot. Zenith left the food cart behind to join them, slightly curious on how the lynx was doing. He knew that it would be out till the morning, that's what the technician said. Hudson was watching him warily as Valerian continued to ramble on about lynxes. Behind where Hudson was sitting on the floor, up on the bed was the lynx curled up like Valerian had described. It was still holding its star blanket close, which reminded Zenith that he needed it washed. 

“It’s been out all day,” Hudson informed. 

“I know, I had a technician give it a sedative that’ll last till morning.”

“When are you going to take it to the medic? It looks like it really needs it,” Valerian asked, interrupting their conversation.  

“That’s what I was here to talk about. Let’s discuss it over dinner,” Zenith said. 

As Zenith turned his back he heard Hudson getting up while Valerian rushed ahead of them. Valerian had already begun setting the table by the time Zenith and Hudson joined him. Once the table was set and they had all taken their seats, Zenith began talking. 

“As I'm sure the two of you know, I will be taking the lynx to the medics tomorrow as per my normal routine. That will also mean that both of you will be going as well.”

Hudson grimaced while Valerian groaned. It was common knowledge that none of them liked going to the medics, despite it usually being necessary. 

“I know neither of you like going but not only would it be convenient to do it now, it would also replace the appointment you have a couple months from now. In short, if you go now, you won’t have to go for another routine check up for about 6 months.” 

Valerian still picked at his food like it had suddenly become unappetizing by the statement Zenith had said, which he figured it had. Zenith let the room sit in silence for a moment, letting his words sink in. 

“Do we have to watch the lynx get examined?” Hudson was the first to break the silence with his question. 

“No. I figure its appointment will run significantly longer than the both of yours. When you are finished, I’ll take you somewhere while we wait for the medics to finish up with the lynx. Does that sound fair?”

They both nodded reluctantly, not daring to fight against Zenith’s word. They finished their dinner quietly with minor small talk here and there. As Zenith was loading the food cart with their dishes, he could tell his pets were waiting on him. Normally after dinner he would spend time with them. Usually he would play chess with Hudson while Valerian watched, most often cuddling against him. But tonight he would have to put that off till later in the night, maybe even tomorrow if he had too. 

“Are you staying tonight?” Valerian asked, his eyes making it obvious that he was hoping that Zenith would. 

“I don’t think so. I have to get the lynx prepared for the medics and it’ll be well past your bedtime by then.”

He watched as Valerian’s heart sank, his wings even changing a slightly different color to match his disappointment. Zenith felt pity for him but stood firm by his statement, not allowing a bird to manipulate him. He walked past his pets and over to where the lynx was sleeping. He scooped it into his arms like a kid that needed to be carried inside from falling asleep inside the car. He made sure to grab its blanket. Its head lolled with dead weight and he held it against his shoulder. The lynx’s muzzle pressed against his shoulder and he tried to remember if the technician was supposed to take it off or not. 

He walked back to his other pets, and ruffled Valerian’s hair. He gave him a hug before letting go and turning to Hudson. He gave him a nod, respecting his wishes not to be touched. Then he left his pets in their room. He waved to a nearby servant and told them to grab the food cart he had left behind, then continued to walk on. Once he made it to his own room, he shut the door behind him and gently laid the lynx on the bed. He stepped back out into the hall with the lynx’s blanket and hailed down another servant.

“I want this to be washed and placed on my desk before I leave for the medics tomorrow.”

The servant nodded and whisked away with the blanket. Zenith then stepped back inside of his room and began getting ready for bed. He took a shower and changed into different clothes. He had grabbed another blanket while he was in the closet getting dressed, and brought it with him for the lynx to have. He examined the lynx’s clothes and decided they were too dirty to stay. He stripped the lynx and then covered it in the blanket to make sure it could stay warm. He took the rags that had been mistakenly called clothes, and threw them away without any expectation of needing them again. 

He made a mental note to go shopping with Hudson and Valerian while they waited on the lynx. He was slowly compiling a list of things he would need, which he knew would only grow after the medic would give him some recommendations. Zenith took the bundle of blanket and lynx off of the bed and carried it to the kennel that was sitting not very far from his bed. While he wanted to leave the lynx on his bed, the lynx was not yet trained and there was no saying what it would do. So he left the lynx in the cage while he himself slept in a real bed, waiting for the sun to rise and the new day to begin. 

Taglist: (lmk if you want to be added)

@melopomenelamusa @what-if-i-just-did @user-583 @imtheperkiness

[serickswrites]

First for Everything

Warnings: captivity, restraints, muzzle, torture, defiant whumpee, sensory deprivation

Whumper walked down the long hallway to the room they had locked Whumpee in almost twenty-four hours ago. They had thought Whumpee would have been easy to break.

They were wrong.

Not only was Whumpee bratty and defiant with their words, they also tried to fight Whumper with every breath they had. It was only after Whumpee had spat on Whumper five times and tried to bite Whumper three times that Whumper had decided they only had one course of action.

"You leave me no choice, Whumpee. This could have been far more pleasant for you." Whumper fastened the muzzle on Whumpee's face, tightening the straps painfully tight. "I would have been much more gentle if you had been a little nicer."

Whumpee glared at Whumper, growling through the muzzle. But they couldn't bite or spit. Whumper double checked the shackles around Whumpee's wrists. "I'm going to let you think on this for a bit," Whumper said as they headed towards the door. The windowless room had no source of light save the bulbs overhead. The walls were padded and all sound from the outside world was muffled. "You think good and hard about what you want to do the next time I come in, Whumpee."

Whumper left, flicking the light switch off. They chuckled to themself as they walked down the hall. They had muzzled Whumpee and left them alone in the quiet dark. Perhaps Whumpee would break much faster this way.

Sure enough, as Whumper opened the door and flicked on the light switch, they saw Whumpee curled around themself, completely silent and still. "Well, good morning, Whumpee."

Whumpee didn't acknowledge their presence. Whumpee stared off into space.

"Well, it would seem there's a first for everything," Whumper said as they knelt down in front of Whumpee, "I broke you without having to hurt you. This is most wonderful news because now I can have my fun with you without fear of going too far."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@artisticdemon

[deluxewhump]

bahkauv

cw: nonhuman whumpee, hunters of nonhumans, torture, burning as torture, fire-induced temporary blindness, mentioned digit crushing, self healing whumpee, it as a pronoun, restraints, muzzle, purchased for research

note: I've taken great liberties with this little german mythological creature. As you will see, its physical appearance is about ninety percent human in this story.

one: hunter's camp

The creature was in the worst shape Arthur had ever seen anything alive in. The fact that it looked so unnervingly human, especially from a distance, unsettled him even more.

Once they heard what it allegedly was, Stephan said it should have big paws and the short golden fur of a lion. Francis said that wasn’t right at all— it should have a human head and torso, legs like a calf with cloven hooves, and soft brown, white or black ears like a calf too… Stephan eventually elbowed Francis into silence as they approached a muddy paddock where the ill-fated things were corralled after being caught. 

It was mostly vampires in the hunter’s camp. Vampires were such a problem in the region that Arthur himself had been nearly recruited as a hunter this spring past. He’d been intrigued by the commission bonuses, the idea of travel and sleeping under the stars. He’d eyed the weapons and tools the hunters wore at their belts and tucked in their boots with admiration and envy. But he’d lost his stomach for it after seeing what he would have to do to the vampires he caught.

The Bahkauv was no exception, it seemed, despite being a rarer and much more regional phenomenon, not at all the infamous menace vampires had become. In fact, it seemed to Arthur that the thing was human as it cowered in the mud, eyes tracking the hunter that circled it. 

“How do they know it's a Bahkauv?” he asked aloud, not expecting his friends to have a response he didn't have himself. 

Meanwhile, the hunter sloshed a bucket of thick, oily substance onto the cowering creature and struck a match. 

“Oh good God,” Francis breathed beside him. All three of them were frozen in place, waiting to see if the hunter would toss the match.

He did. 

The substance now covering the Bahkauv was clearly some sort of accelerant. Pitch, maybe. Immediately, the fire spread over it and leaped three feet high so the creature appeared as a burning ball, invisible inside a wall of orange flame. Though they could not see it very well, they could hear it. Its shrieks of terror turned to screams of pain— agonized and gut wrenching. Francis was gripping Arthur’s forearm without realizing he’d done so, as if to say do you see this?His mouth was open in shock at the scene before them. Arthur glanced about. Some of the people, hunters and civilians alike, had stopped to see what this particular commotion was about, but they went back to their own business once they realized. This was not out of the ordinary. 

“We use the sun on the vamps,” said a hunter who had come up to the fence to watch. “Easy and extremely effective. But that thing doesn’t burn with the sun. They find drunken soldiers and latch onto them until they’re weak enough for them to attack. Vicious, thieving little creatures. And since there’s a lack of drunken soldiers wandering around alone here lately, who do you think we found this one leeching on?”

“A hunter?”

The hunter nodded.  “Unwise little thing, no? Sunlight doesn’t really bother it, but we found it a similar experience…” he nodded at the twisting and writhing flame in the paddock.  Whatever the substance was was finally burning off. The flames dwindled in the wet mud until they could see the creature beneath, now naked and terribly burned, but clearly alive. The screams tapered off to loud, alarming moans, separated by thin breaths drawn with great difficulty. 

“Why?” asked Arthur with an incredulity he later realized must have sounded terribly naive to a hunter. 

The hunter looked at him, deciding how to answer. In the end he just laughed, and clapped Arthur on the shoulder before wandering away toward the north side of the encampment.  

The one in the ring, dressed identically to the one Arthur had just spoken to, approached the Bahkauv. Arthur was now convinced it was not human after all, or it would not have survived that sustained heat for so long, with no oxygen to breathe. Right? Surely.

The hunter watched the thing struggling to breathe for a moment, tilted his head and toed it in the ribs with his boot. It shrieked in pain, eyes blind and white, blood and saliva dripping from its open mouth, its burned lips. The hunter seemed to consider the condition of the skin, which looked from a distance as though it was already changing from charred to red, from red to pink. 

“Is it healing?” Stephan asked in a low voice. He was not sure he wanted to know. 

“So quickly,” Francis muttered, his forehead deeply creased in distress. Even so, Francis could not help but watch. Arthur knew he was sharply observing, forming questions. His curious mind would not allow him to look away. 

Arthur, by no means a scientist or a scholar, wondered why it was he couldn’t stop looking. The hunter splashed more of the pitch-like substance onto the creature, who howled and threw up its hands protectively, uselessly, against the second lit match that was coming. 

“No,” Stephan exhaled in disbelief. “So soon?”

The flames flew to the accelerant faster than their eyes could follow, and the screams began in earnest again, filling the paddock. Arthur winced and looked away. 

“I need it,” Francis said, nodding emphatically. “Not a vampire. I need to take that to the University. Why study what everyone else is studying? Sure they’re rare, but that means my research would be rare, too. Possibly unique.”

“You don’t know what it’s capable of,” Stephan cautioned. 

“It likes to eat drunken soldiers, for God's sake," Francis argued to the backdrop of horrific wailing. “It will be tied up and muzzled, if we have to. And it's so... pathetic. Look at it."

Arthur and Stephan did. The flames had burned off again. The unfortunate creature was attempting to crawl away from the hunter, who was following it slowly. 

“It’s probably less dangerous than a vampire anyway. And it can move in the sunlight without being carried or making a scene.” Francis looked to them for support. Nearby, a shrieking vampire was being dragged into the sunlight. 

“This place is making me a bit ill,” Stephan said.

"I did warn you both." Arthur turned to Francis. “If you really think it’s a good idea, I’ll bargain for you. You’re too excited about it. They’ll realize they can rip you off.”

—

The Bahkauv was badly burned. This was nothing new, but each time was its own unending Hell. Every inch was agony as it crawled, blindly, across the paddock. The cool mud might have been a relief but for the way it sucked at the skin of its hands and knees, taking much of the ruined flesh with it as it made each slow inch of progress. It didn’t know where it was going. It only knew that staying put would mean more pain, and it could not tolerate any more pain. It was stripped to its barest instincts, and its instinct was to get away.

Dimly, it remembered the hunters didn’t like when it tried to get away from them, even just a few feet to curl up in a corner or against a fence. They’d stake it in place with one of their sharp vampire-sticks, through its hand or the tendons of its foot, grounding it in place to torment until it was mindless, incoherent and screeching like an animal.

Its melted sight began to come back, and it could see the blurry outline of men’s legs standing in front of it. It stopped crawling, paralyzed in fear. It could do nothing but lie on the ground and pant, throat and lungs burned from inhaling fire, but unable to die, just like the vampires in the sun.

A heavy collar was fitted around its neck like a yoke, and someone was yanking it roughly to a standing position. The Bahkauv shook so badly from the recent pain of burning that it collapsed once, twice. It cringed deeply as the hunter who held the leash backhanded its burnt cheek. “Up,” he hissed. “Do you want another round as a parting gift?”

“It’s fine,” said a new man's voice. “Enough. Enough. Here.”

Through slowly improving vision, it saw its leash change hands. It was not prepared to look anyone in the eye, even once it could see well enough to distinguish faces again.

It kept its eyes down, trembling violently as ropes were wrapped around its wrists and then looped through the collar so its hands had to stay crossed near its chest. A leather and iron muzzle was fitted over its head and tightened around the back of its neck. The sharp bit went to right the back of its throat, almost far enough to make it gag. The sides bit into the burnt flesh of its face. Once, it would have been ashamed of how it drooled pinkish foam in front of all these humans. Now it neither knew or remembered shame when the threat of more pain was present, which was always.

A man was picking it up. It hurt terribly, but all the Bahkauv dared to do was whimper through frantically grit teeth. Another pair of hands went under its armpits and hauled it higher, up and into the saddle of a chestnut horse. Each point of contact from the saddle was fresh pain, burnt skin and nightmarish friction. It tried to sit up on its own for as long as it could, but lacked the strength. Once the horse began walking in the direction of the road, it had no choice but to slump weakly against the chest of the man sitting directly behind it and holding the reins. 

It received no punishment, except for the way the man's rough clothes touched its skin. As the Bahkauv's sight returned to normal, it looked about to see two more men on horses of their own. Its healing skin itched and burned, but all it could do was twitch helplessly and watch the horse’s bobbing mane in front of it, or the leafy spring forest pass on either side. It shivered intermittently.

"Give it a blanket, Francis," one of the men said.

"Won't that hurt it? Its skin still shines like a burn."

"Remarkable how minor a burn it looks already though," said the man behind it in the saddle. "Considering."

The human voice, so close it could feel the vibration from it in its back, set it to trembling again.

Exhaustion from the days torture soon set in, and it fell into bouts of unconsciousness that only resembled sleep. It woke from one such period of dreamlessness with a startled flinch, unsure where it was or what was happening. The man he was riding with had his arm around its waist, anchoring it so it did not slump to either side and fall from the horse.

Dread and fear pooled in the Bahkauv’s stomach at the human contact, a large gloved hand splayed across its naked belly. Humans were cunning and cruel. They loved fire and tools, like the metal ones they used to crush its fingers and toes in the evenings when the sun was down and the screams of the vampires had quieted. 

It felt one of the others’ gaze on it and turned its foolish head, accidentally locking eyes with one of the men it was now traveling with. He was young, dressed in a jacket of dark green wool. He reminded the Bahkauv of the new recruits the hunters would bring in now and then, to see what they had the stomach for. Heart pounding, it looked away, and did not dare lift its eyes again until nightfall prompted the men to stop and make camp.

[ronanziriano]

hmp by jinguj

[whumpandothercomfort]

maybe one more thing with masochist whumpee?

Whumpee has, perhaps, ended up with Sadistic Whumper specifically BECAUSE their pain tolerance is so high. Whumper keeps finding it a little too easy to break their toys. A stronger will is required.

Whumper was not specifically looking to purchase a masochist because half the fun of inflicting pain is the fact that it hurts. But they're open to experimentation.

Whumper straps Whumpee down to a table, immobilizing the major joints to make struggling difficult. There are a lot of torture implements hanging on the walls. Like, a lot.

"I'm going to muzzle you."

Whumpee swallows.

Whumper retrieves a fairly standard muzzle -- straps to cover the mouth and hold it closed. Then they pause. "Open up."

"Please-" Whumpee begins.

"Open up."

Whumpee obediently opens their mouth. Whumper slides a small metal plate behind their teeth -- just big enough to dig into the roof and bottom of their mouth, just thin enough to cause pain.

Whumpee is almost silent as Whumper fits the muzzle over their face. They only make a noise when Whumper tightens the straps to force their teeth together, making the metal bite harder. It's a desperate whimper, their muscles twitching spasmodically, their eyes wide.

"Good pet," Whumper murmurs. "It hurts, doesn't it?"

Whumpee closes their eyes, nodding just the tiniest fraction.

Whumper strokes their cheek with a thumb. "It's good, isn't it?"

Whumpee whimpers again.

"Look at me."

Whumpee's eyes open, but their gaze is unfocused. Glazed. Their pupils are huge with helpless, unwanted pleasure.

"Good," Whumper says. "You're nice and obedient like this. I think we'll just have to keep you in a little pain all the time, won't we? Is that what you need?"

Whumpee's soft, muffled protest is undermined by their body's response. Their fingers and toes both curl, their eyes rolling back, breathing heavy.

"It's good you found your way to me, really," Whumper says. "There's no one who can take better care of you than me."