#now gotta get the whumpees

[whumpspicelatte]

New Series

So, anyone interested in a series about a vampire hunter whumper and his pet training? Multiple whumpees, lots of whumper-turned-whumpee, pet whump, conditioning, vampire whumpees, you know, the works.

[thriftyshark530]

I love when a stoic whumpee who pretends they don't like caretaker gets seriously wounded while protecting caretaker. Whumpee is now losing a serious amount of blood, and the two are far away from any hospital, so they need to treat the wound themselves. Only problem is, whumpee isn't letting caretaker get close enough to help. Whumpee keeps repeating "I'm fine" and "I don't need your help" over and over, pushing caretaker away when they get close. Caretaker tries negotiating with whumpee, but whumpee isn't having it. Caretaker gets too close to whumpee and whumpee pulls their weapon on caretaker in a desperate attempt to keep them away.

Caretaker's expression turns from shocked to defiant. "I'm going to come over there and help you, you do what you gotta do". Caretaker states, before walking towards whumpee.

Whumpee stares down caretaker, then lowers their weapon as caretaker gets close, no longer having the energy to fight back anymore. Caretaker begins cleaning and patching up whumpee's wounds, making sure to be gentle as to not hurt whumpee. Whumpee whispers an apology, explaining how they never received help in their life, and never trust anyone because of it. Caretaker explains how it's ok to ask for help, and let's whumpee know that they can always ask. When caretaker is done, whumpee begins staring at caretaker, looking like a lost puppy.

"I threatened to hurt you, why did you still insist on helping me?"

"I know you, whumpee. I knew you were bluffing" caretaker smiles, resting a hand on whumpee's shoulder.

Whumpee scoffs, looking away with a confused look. "You don't know the things I've done, caretaker"

"I know you saved me" caretaker cuts in. "You didn't have to, but you did. And I couldn't let you die, so I'd say we're even". Caretaker gives whumpee a gentle punch on the shoulder as they stand up, leaving whumpee to contemplate what just happened.

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #56: Else

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: recovery and lots of it, angst, sickfic, accidental emotional whump, fear of starvation, vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee (turned caretaker), reunions

Whumpmas in July Day 18: "Or else"

i'm sorry for being so slow with k&j chapters! i'm going to try to be quicker with them in the future. here's one people have been waiting for for a very long time!

-

“You’re sick.”

Jim blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“You’re sick,” Kane repeated, taking another sip from the bowl. One of his last bowls before he was to start finding his own elsewhere. “I can taste it.”

“What? What kind of sick? Is it serious?” Jim asked with increasing urgency. Kane could see it in his eyes: he knew fear, and he hated to see it in Jim.

He wanted more than anything to reassure him, but he couldn’t lie. “I-I don’t know?” he admitted. “I don’t know much of human illnesses. You seem… fine?”

“Shit. Shit shit shit.” Jim grabbed his coat. “I’ll be back soon. I gotta… go to the doctor, or something. Door,” he warned.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll be okay! You can’t even feel it! You’re a healthy young man!” Kane assured him, ducking into the kitchen.

“Thanks for warning me!” Jim’s voice was laden with nerves. A flash of sunlight made Kane shiver, and he only returned to the living room when it was gone.

Kane knew what this meant: Jim would likely not finish out the week. This was his last meal given. He would have to go to vampire territory tonight, or else he would have nothing to eat come tomorrow. He had to find blood tonight, or else he’d starve. He’d go back to that horrible, empty state, always wanting, always in pain.

He knew Jim wouldn’t really let that happen, but it wasn’t fair to rely on him for blood forever, either. Kane had taken enough, with and without permission. It was Jim’s turn to rest.

Still, the fear of hunger never left him. It was a part of him now, permanently, no matter how much he fed.

And this meant one thing. The thing he’d been putting off and dreading since Jim set him free.

He would have to go to vampire territory and talk to his parents. He knew already that it would not go over well. Father would be either furious or crushingly disappointed that he’d allowed himself to be humiliated by humans, and he wasn’t sure which was worse. Mother would undoubtedly be the latter. He wondered, not for the first time, if they preferred him ‘dead’.

It shouldn’t matter. He knew now that they weren’t… good people. He could see that. He had a new family of sorts, now that Jim had taken him in.

But Jim wasn’t his legal next of kin, and Jim wasn’t the one he had to ask if he wanted his money returned so he could buy blood.

He could always get a job. But it seemed ridiculous to do when he had money sitting right there, and he would likely be found by his parents at some point anyway. There was no avoiding it forever.

Kane drank the bowl down quickly.

-

It was a flu, apparently. Nothing life-threatening, but it set Jim’s anxieties alight. His parents had died of illness, he explained.

While Kane had managed to catch it early, Jim started to devolve within a few hours of arriving home.

Kane knocked on his bedroom door. “Jim? Can I come in?”

“Ugh. Yeah,” he agreed.

Carefully balancing the tray, he entered. He found Jim curled up in bed, looking miserable.

“I’ve brought you lunch.” He’d been practicing his human food skills. He was still quite afraid of the stove, so though he used it when feeling especially brave, he mainly stuck to things that didn’t require cooking. He’d written down several combinations of foods that humans found appetizing, which could often be served in between slices of bread as a ‘sandwich’.

But he needed a tray instead of a plate, because despite his strength, he simply didn’t have enough hands to carry the six cups of water circled around it.

“Lotta water,” Jim noted weakly, grabbing a glass and taking a sip when Kane brought it close. His hand shook, the liquid threatening to spill. Kane watched it close, ready to steady it in a heartbeat if Jim needed him to.

He spoke gently, like he was worried speaking too loud would break Jim in his fragile state. “...Like I’d mentioned, I don’t know much about human illness. Most of what I know comes from you. I just remember… you wanted a lot of water, last time.”

He thought about that time a lot. How he was so close to losing Jim, because he was too proud to listen.

“Ah. Yeah.” Jim wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I remember.”

Kane set the tray down. “I should have taken better care of you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I mean–I shouldn’t have had you in the first place, but I did, and you were my responsibility, and I didn’t care for you like I should have.” A hint of tears in his eyes, he took Jim’s unusually-sweaty hand. “I’ll do better this time. Anything you need, I’ll be there.”

That earned a small smile from Jim. “Guess it isn’t so bad being waited on. ‘Specially because you can’t get sick, right?” The smile faded. “…Right?”

“I can’t,” Kane assured him. “You don’t need to worry. Just rest, and I’ll take care of anything you need.”

Jim huffed an almost-laugh. “You really changed, man.”

-

Liz did come over to visit come nightfall, which was good, since despite his promises, Kane had to leave. He didn’t like the thought of leaving Jim alone at night. He knew it made him scared, and Jim deserved to never feel afraid ever again. She brought a container of soup, a yellow liquid with colorful plants and large white orbs floating in it.

He waited, patient, until Liz emerged from Jim’s room. “Liz?”

“Hey. Thanks for looking after him,” Liz said.

“Of course!” The praise spread warmly through him. “There’s, um, something I wanted to talk to you about, if you have the time? Advice, I suppose.”

“Shoot,” she encouraged, flopping over on the couch.

Kane took a deep breath. “So, um, I assume now is a good time to start getting my own blood.”

“Yyyyeah.” Liz shot a glance to the stairs leading to Jim’s room. “I’d say that’s about right.”

“Blood… isn’t free. I have the money–had the money, but I’ve likely been assumed dead for many years. I’ll need to go to my parents to get it back,” he explained. “My parents are not kind people, I’ve come to realize.”

Liz raised an eyebrow, but politely refrained from making any comments about his former obliviousness. “You think they won’t give it back? Isn’t there, like, laws? This can’t be the first time this has happened with vampires, you guys are too good at not dying.”

“No! No, that’s not it, they’d give it back. It’s just, um, they’ll be… quite upset with me, I think. Especially my father.” He sighed. “I didn’t want to talk about it with Jim. I was worried he would feel pressured into giving me more blood than he’s comfortable with. I don’t know. It shouldn’t be as big a deal as it is. I’ve been through so much worse, I don’t understand why this is so terrifying. I suppose I’ve just never failed this badly before.”

“Hey, you made it out of five years with those monsters, alive. Bet there’s not a lot of vampires who could say that,” Liz pointed out.

“Ah, that’s just… not how Father would see it,” Kane said vaguely. Humans were supposed to be the weak ones. The fact that it took him five years to be freed, and he couldn’t even do it himself, would make him an utter embarrassment in their eyes.

And it was all because he couldn’t use persuasion. Everything they’d always believed about him, proven true.

Liz pursed her lips, lost in thought for a moment. “I don’t remember my parents that well,” she admitted. “I know yours suck pretty bad. I don’t think you have to admit more than you need to, right? Like, do they even need to know where you’ve really been? You could just make something up, for the sake of keeping the peace.”

“Make something up…” Kane murmured. He shook his head. “I’m not a very good liar. They’d see right through me. It’s fine, actually, the more I talk about it, the more I realize I’m being a bit ridiculous.” He forced a laugh. “It’s one uncomfortable conversation and then I can come back home.”

“You’ve got this.” Liz patted him lightly on the back, a modification from her usual clap she’d learned tended to scare him. “You’re tough.”

Kane certainly didn’t feel ‘tough’.

“Thank you. It was nice to at least… get it out of my system. Oh, and congratulations. Jim told me about you and Laken.”

Liz smiled. “After what happened, I just knew I had to say something, you know? If they could just be taken from me at any moment. Stuff happens. People die. I didn’t want something to happen to one of us before I could tell them how I feel.”

She stood. “I can give you one more night’s worth, maybe two. If you need some time to think about it and all.”

Kane startled. He and Liz had grown far more amicable over the past months, but he hadn’t expected this from her.

Maybe he should have. It wasn’t the first time. He thought of Jim, on that first night, vehemently denying Liz’s offer to provide blood, vowing to do it himself.

“...Thank you. That means so, so much to me. It’s alright, though. I’ll go tonight,” he decided.

“Good luck. We’ll be here when you get back,” she promised.

And that was all he really needed, in the end.

Kane got up, heading to the door with a quick glance back to make sure it was alright. For the freedom he’d earned, he hadn’t gone more than ten feet from the house since he’d returned with Laken. But of course, Liz made no move to stop him. “I’ll see you soon.”

-

The night was as beautiful as ever, even in the cool autumn air. He liked it better this way, in fact. It made it more comfortable to wear more clothing, the long pants and long sleeves and jacket he liked, especially when he ran. When he went this fast, he hardly felt the cold, and his mind was occupied elsewhere.

What if his parents made demands of him in exchange for their help? What if they expected him to return to vampire territory, to isolate himself out of the way in a socially-acceptable manner? Now that he’d tasted true companionship, he almost couldn’t bear to give it up. And what about Jim? Ever since Laken’s abduction, he’d been more scared at night. The very least Kane owed him was his protection.

His petty worries disappeared the instant he realized he could hear a vehicle coming closer.

Kane ran faster, opposite the sound. He’d likely been pushing fifty miles an hour before, and could make sixty if he tried–but he was out of practice, and the vehicle was faster.

A glance behind him showed moonlight glinting off a silver crossbow.

“I have permission!” he wailed as the off-roader gained, heart threatening to burst from his chest. This couldn’t happen, not again, no. Jim and Liz wouldn’t even think to look for him until a day had passed, a day that could easily be spent baking in the hot sun. “Liz Lieberman granted me permission to cross! Please, I didn’t do anything! Mercy!”

“Kane?” an unfamiliar voice called. The vehicle caught up to him, but there was no attack. “Oh shit, it’s you!” the driver said. “It’s so dark, I almost didn’t recognize you from the picture Laken showed us. Thanks for bringing ‘em back.”

Kane slowed, just a bit. “What?” he squeaked, tears streaming down his face.

The hunter in the passenger seat elbowed his partner, making quick movements with his hands that Kane could not understand. A signed language of some sort, he assumed. Though he didn’t know much about such things, other than that spoken orders under persuasion often didn’t work on humans who utilized it.

“Uh, my partner wants to know if you’re good? Like, you’re alright?” The driver asked. “Did we scare you? Sorry. Just, uh, you know, gotta be quick with the other guys. One second wasted and you miss ‘em, and that’s someone’s whole life, y’know.”

“Oh. Um, yes, you’d–you’d frightened me. I’m sorry.” Kane wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for. “Am I… free to go, sirs?”

“Yeah! Yeah, you can go… sir? Shoot, don’t let us keep you,” the hunter assured.

The one in the passenger seat made more hand-signs, waving him goodbye after. “Nice to meet you!” the other translated, finally driving away.

Kane picked up speed again and didn’t stop until he was sure he’d left the border far behind. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.

He was so close to going back to the pain. If they hadn’t recognized him, he would have been skewered with silver–likely soon killed, not tortured, given they were from Liz’s guild, but still, he would have died in pain. No matter how hard he breathed, he felt like he couldn’t get enough air, and he wasn’t sure if it was that he’d been sprinting for too long or the sheer horror.

He wanted Jim. He wanted Jim to hold him and tell him everything was alright, that he was safe, that no one was going to hurt him. But Jim was miles and miles away, and could not help him here.

And he couldn’t cry on the ground forever. He was burning moonlight, and he needed blood.

Kane forced himself to his feet and wrapped his arms around him. If he squeezed his eyes tight, he could pretend he wasn’t alone, for just a moment.

After a minute like that, he started running once more.

-

By the time Kane reached his parents’ estate, he’d mostly calmed down. It was hard to feel as though hunters would ambush him out of nowhere when he went deep enough into vampire territory to see buildings and people. Any hunter here would be apprehended in seconds.

He touched the gate, brass-coated, though he knew there was silver underneath. There seemed to be some sort of electronic device attached to it, a new addition since his last visit, but he wasn’t sure how to use it. He could climb it, or simply shout, and one of the staff would likely hear him. If he wanted to be extra polite, which he did, he could simply stand here until someone came or went and ask to be let in.

And then that would be it. Kane would be standing face-to-face with his parents. He would accept Father’s ire without complaint. He’d had worse, he reminded himself, even when it came to the comparable. The hunters had spit on him while calling him worthless, ground his face into the floor while forcing him to decry himself as beneath them. It had been so much worse.

His hand shook against the gate.

You’ve really changed, man.

Had he? If he was still back here, ready to take whatever judgments his parents threw at him, debase himself and eagerly beg for their forgiveness, had he really changed? There were humans in there. Captive, hurt humans who he could never in a thousand years be able to free if he tried, locked away in their quarters. What happened to all his regrets? His vows that he would never associate with anything of the sort again?

What would he have done differently here before, if he’d realized back then everything he knew now?

Kane left.

-

It took him a bit to find it, he hadn’t been to this town before, but it wasn’t far, and he knew the address.

There was a different kind of dread this time. If he was rejected here, it might be even worse than his parents. But as he rang the doorbell, he knew this was what he had to do.

The man who answered looked almost exactly the same as the last time he’d seen him, thirteen years ago. The same dark skin, perfect hair, typically garishly-colorful shirt.

Bellamy’s eyes went impossibly wide, as though he’d seen a ghost.

“Kane?”

taglist in reblogs, chapter 57 coming july 30th :)

edit: sorry i was wrong about july 30th. it's coming thoooo i promise

@whumpmasinjuly

[holidayinhell]

CWs: discussion of future torment/ alludes to noncon

“How are you going to— h-how are you going to kill me?”

 “Why?”

Whumpee shrugged weakly.

“Dunno. Lots of ways, Whumpee.” He traced Whumpee's hollow cheek lightly with his index finger. “I can’t pick only one. Gotta see all the different ways I can make ya squirm.”

The younger man wasn’t phased by the answer. He was used to the psychopath’s brutal honesty.

“What’s your favorite way to kill someone?”

It was the terror that he relished, not the act of killing itself. Getting them on the table was the height of the excitement for Whumper. The torture was enjoyable to a point, but by the time the endorphins kicked in the whole thing became work as usual. Not that Whumpee needed to know that.

“However I kill you will be my favorite, I guess.” His eyes grew wide, flashing wickedly in the fluorescent light. 

“So, what’s your favorite way to die?”

Whumpee tried to fight the shiver that wracked his spine.

“Curled up in my bed at 95.”

“Funny.” Whumper remarked dryly. 

Whumpee was painfully aware that the deadline was only three days away. He knew his family could never afford the ransom, even if they sold everything they owned. 

There was no world in which Whumpee lived past the week.

“I just… I was wondering what happens when...”

“Time’s up?”

The gaunt man nodded.

“Ain’t long now,” the killer shifted his weight to stand. “You’ll see for yourself.”

“Wait!” Whumpee shot out his arm, impulsively clutching the bottom of Whumper’s elbow. “Don’t go.”

Whumper turned back to his captive, crumpled on the floor. It was late and he was exhausted from the day, but he couldn’t resist the desperation in Whumpee’s pleading eyes.

“Just tell me what’s gonna happen.” Whumpee begged. “I need to know.”

"It doesn't matter" Whumper dismissed.

"Come on." Whumpee wasn't budging an inch. "You're right, it doesn't matter. So tell me."

“All you need to know is this: when the ransom is up, you're mine, and I can do whatever I like to you.”

Whumper gently traced the curve of Whumpee’s bottom lip with his thumb.

“Maybe you’ll like some of it too.”

“I don’t think so.” He responded blankly.

“Mmm.” Whumper retracted his hand from the man’s face. “Good thing you won’t have any choice in the matter.”

Powerless to fight the deluge of tears leaking from his exhausted eyes, an aching sadness took hold of Whumpee. Tears rolled over his cheeks, but he didn’t sob. He was beyond hollow at this point, completely numb.

A piece of his heart broke for his former self when Whumpee had the cold realization that he would probably never see the sky again. He cursed his weakness, his inability to defend himself. His entire life he had been too shy, too soft. What a waste he'd been.

In a tone barely above a whisper, Whumpee pitifully murmured: “I don’t wanna die.”

Whumper scooped up the trembling man from the floor, his strong arms wrapping around Whumpee in a confusing display of dominance and affection.

It was a feigned act of compassion, but the warmth of human contact felt good anyways. This time, Whumpee allowed the touch to comfort him.

Whumper offered no reassurances to the shell of a man quaking in his arms, he didn’t say it’s okay I would never hurt you, you’re my favorite—he didn’t say it because it wasn’t true. He wasn’t holding Whumpee tightly in his arms to comfort him. He held him close to feel Whumpee shake with fear.

Three days left. Only seventy-two hours.

“I like you, but the same rules apply to you as everyone else here.”

Whumpee pulled out of the hug, shuffling backwards.

“You said I was your favorite.” He wiped his leaking face with the back of his hand, sniffling. “Was that even true?”

“Yeah.” Whumper chuckled lightly. “You’re sweet.”

"Then why would you—" The tears surged again, cutting him off. "—how could you...?"

“I won’t touch your pretty face. Does that make you feel better?”

“I don’t know.” He snorted loudly to halt the mucus dripping from his nose. Whumpee struggled to maintain a façade of emotionlessness, but his body betrayed him at every turn. He took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly, centering his mind. 

“Just walk me through it. Just once. I need to know what happens.”

“Fine.”

Whumper crouched, locking his cold eyes with Whumpee's.

“It starts off the same for everyone. First I’m gonna have you go to the bathroom. If you’re good for me, maybe I’ll even let you use the one upstairs, the nice one. Sometimes people refuse to go and end up pissing on the exam table-- don’t do that. If you piss or anything when you’re strapped down, I’ll rub your fuckin’ face in it, so just go.”

“Okay.”

“Then you’ll strip down. Don’t put up a fight on that either. You won’t win.”

Whumpee nodded.

“I’ll take you to the room at the end of the hall. You know the one. Maybe I’ll have to tie you up, but if you’re a good boy that day I won’t need the ropes.”

An evil smile spread across Whumper's face. “The table is gonna feel cold on your skin. I'll have you lay back and once you lay down... Use your imagination. Anything could happen. I haven’t exactly planned it all out.”

“Yes you fucking have.” Whumpee bit back.

Whumper was taken aback. He was right of course, but he’d never heard the man swear before.

“Sure. I’ve thought about it.” Whumper chuckled. “I don’t think sharin’ every minute detail is gonna help.”

“Just tell me,” Whumpee urged. 

Whumper looked down and sighed, his impatience mounting.

“Are you going to fuck me?”

“Yes.” He answered truthfully. “Among other things.”

It felt like a train crashed into Whumpee’s gut. It was happening. It was really happening.

“Will it--will it hurt?”

“A little. But I’ll try to make you feel good.”

“No I mean. After.”

“Oh." He patted the man's shoulder. "Yeah. It’s gonna hurt, Whumpee.”

As much as he didn’t look forward to sacrificing his special, trembling boy to some faceless nobody on the dark web, the money was too good to pass up. The truth was, Whumpee was worth far more dead than alive. Even if his family had managed to pull together enough funds for the payout, it was miniscule compared to what his buyer was willing to pay for the video.

“That’s enough for now. It’s late.” The killer made his way to the exit, the heels of his boots clicking against the tiles.

“Am I allowed to make a final request?” Whumpee called to his captor's receding form.

"I don't do that," the man said coldly, glancing over his shoulder.

“Please. It’s not a lot.”

"What?" Whumper snapped, impatience evident in his tone.

“C-can I please write a letter to my friend?”

The killer rubbed his exhausted eyes, sighing as he eyed the reinforced steel door.

“Please.”

“Fine, Whumpee. Whatever. You can write to your friend. I’ll get you some paper. Write a fuckin’ novel for all I care.”

“Thank y--.” 

Whumper yanked the heavy door closed behind him, silencing Whumpee’s appreciation with a decisive shove, the thick thud echoing in the corridor. He had no intention of actually delivering Whumpee’s letter to anyone; but at that point he’d do anything to shut up Whumpee’s insistent questioning. 

Still, a flicker of curiosity burned within him as he wondered what Whumpee might write.

((sequel is in progress, here's more Whump))

[whumper-whimsy]

@augusnippets day 19

Collared / Branded / Chipped

Captivity, pet whump, kidnapping, noncon surgery

°

Whumpee groaned, opening his eyes. He had no idea where he was or why he wasn't waking up in his own bed. All he knew was his head ached painfully, and the lights were way too bright.

"Ahh, there we are!" a man spoke cheerfully beside Whumpee, and he turned, squinting his eyes against the bright light. The man gasped softly. "Oh, I'm sorry, puppy. Are the lights too harsh. Let me get that for you."

The lights dimmed, and Whumpee could look around. The man he was speaking to was a tall, muscular man with a sweet smile. He was in a small room with a bed, stuffed animals, a mini fridge, and a large kennel.

Whumpee was lying on a metal table with the man standing over him. He seemed friendly enough, but the circumstances seemed to prove otherwise.

"Where am I..? What did you call me?" Whumpee sat up, only to be pushed back down gently.

"Just relax. You don't need to worry."

Whumpee felt a stinging in his arm, looking over to find it bandaged. "W- why is my arm—"

"I chipped you! Gotta make sure my new puppy can't run off!" Whumper grinned, lifting a collar and snaking out around his throat. "Now... let's see if we can't get you trained."

[cepheusgalaxy]

Takes your whumpee and turns them into a vampire and now they gotta drink human blood to get strenght but they refuse to so they just slowlyyyyy decay until the hunger is so big they can't trust themselves to be around their loved ones without so much self restraint and covering their mouths and looking away everytime someone scratches their arm

[whumpiswonderful]

Ok but like- caretake rescuing whumpee and being so close to breakdown they can only hold them as they are half conscious and THEN the other teammate 1 is like “yo their coming we gotta-“ and they just can’t- so teammate 2 breaks it to them gently “caretaker we gotta go. Come on. We have them, we can keep them safe now, but we gotta get them out of here.”

[3-2-whump]

The Scent of Jasmine

<prev next>

Who's in the mood for some carewhumping after the emotional rollercoaster of almost dying? I know I am!

Thank you @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz for being awesome beta readers

TW/CW: aftermath of mock execution, trauma aftermath, extremely dubious consent, nonverbal whumpee, whumper turned carewhumper, dubiously consensual nudity, death threats, chastity devices (yes, it’s back), forced domesticity, food whump (sort of) (tagging it anyway to cover my bases), intimate whumper

The boss noticed Khaled’s grateful enthusiasm slowly fade into a catatonic silence on the drive home. He didn’t think much of it, though. Poor boy is just shocked is all, he told himself, we can work on that. He parked, got out of the car and led Khaled out of the garage and to the elevator.

His first order of business was to strip Khaled when they got home. The poor thing was soaked in melted snow and cooled piss. He was barely responsive as Thomas pulled him into the laundry room and slowly peeled each layer of clothing off his shivering body. “You need a bath, Khaled.”

Khaled didn’t reply, instead opting to stare at his bare feet with empty, starless eyes. I can’t blame him for being quiet. Anyone would be a little messed up after a mock execution, he figured. He sighed, gently taking the slave’s hand in his and leading him to the master bathroom.

Once inside, Thomas deposited him at the entrance and turned on the lights and the fan. Khaled stood silently watching him by the door as he knelt by the large, deep bath tub. “Come on in,” he beckoned. Khaled inched closer to the bath tub as Thomas poured a generous glug of bubble bath solution into the marble expanse and cranked the water full-blast, making micro-adjustments to make sure the temperature wasn’t too hot. As a finishing touch, he uncapped a tiny bottle of jasmine oil and dripped a few drops into the tub. The floral scent rose on the plumes of steam coming from the frothing tub.

Once the tub was full enough, Thomas turned off the tap and pulled Khaled closer to the tub. He effortlessly scooped the young man’s cold body into his arms, settling him on the edge of the bath tub before gently lowering him in. “I’m going to help you wash your hair and body. Nod if you understand me.”

Khaled faintly nodded, eyes fully closing as he slumped into the soapy water. “Good boy.” Nothing but a small, contented sounding whimper answered him. At least he’s becoming verbal again.

Thomas methodically washed the young man’s body and hair, being mindful of not getting any soap in his eyes as he massaged his scalp with the shampoo. He noticed the newly forming chafe marks on Khaled’s wrists as he scrubbed his body. All the while he whispered sweet nothings into his ear, like “good boy, you’re being so good right now, we’re almost done, I gotta rinse you off and drain the tub next.”

The awareness in Khaled’s eyes was flickering back on once Thomas helped him out of the bath tub and began towel-drying him. “Back with me, beautiful?” he teased.

“Mmm.” Inky dark eyes glittered up at him from dark lashes and damp strands of black hair as Thomas wrapped a soft fluffy towel around his shoulders.

“Yeah, good. Very good.” He procured something small and metallic from behind his back.

Khaled instinctively backed away as soon as he saw what it was. “Khaled,” he warned. It was all he needed to say for the boy to stay rooted on the spot. “I haven’t forgotten about you running around and getting an STD,” he explained as he wrapped the cock cage around Khaled’s privates. “And I’m still mad about it. But maybe I will let you out once we’re both all better.” He padlocked it in place and held the small caged appendage in his hand. “Or once I put that dumpster lover of yours under, like the horndog he is. Whichever comes sooner.” He marveled at how it was but a microcosm of Khaled’s greater captivity. As he craned his gaze upwards, he saw Khaled pout. “Oh, don’t give me that look –I’m doing this for your own good!” The boy smoothed his frown back into a neutral expression of apathy as he hid his eyes behind his lashes.

“That’s more like it. Now, can you change into your pajamas and wait in the living room until Master is done in here?” He measured out his words slowly and carefully, explaining it as if Khaled was a child again. Another quiet hum answered him. “Good boy. When I’m done, we can eat, and then we’ll watch whatever you’d like.” He gestured him out with a small wave of the hand, then hopped into the shower for a quick rinse off himself.

When he got out of the shower, towel-dried himself, and changed into a fresh pair of flannel pants and a wife-beater tank top, Thomas made his way to the living room, where Khaled sat on the floor, at the foot of the couch, gazing down at the carpet with desolate eyes. He was still wrapped in the bath towel. Seeing him there brought back memories of when Khaled was younger, when he would lean against his shins and let him brush his thick black hair. The memory brought back fond feelings in Thomas’ chest. He turned around and went back to the bathroom for a hairbrush.

Once he was done brushing his slave’s hair, they ended up sitting opposite each other at the dining room table, each with a plate of reheated takeout from a new Indian restaurant Tom had wanted to try. While the boss himself ravenously devoured the bhuna ghost, Khaled kept tearing the same corner of buttered naan between his fingers while staring apathetically at the murgh cholay.

“Are you sure you don’t want any more food?” he asked again. “You hardly touched your portion.”

The boy merely shook his head.

“Come on, at least two more bites, Khaled,” he coaxed. “Give me at least two more bites before I put it away.”

Khaled cast him an empty, weary stare, not breaking eye contact as he tore off the weathered chunk of bread, dipped it into the curry, and ate exactly two more bites.

They ended up cuddling onto the couch together after dinner, a rarity in their household. Thomas man-spread on the couch and rested his arms outstretched along the back. Khaled, still wearing nothing but a damp bath towel around his shoulders, leaned against his side with his head resting on his chest. His hands curled around a steaming mug of chai, which he occasionally sipped as they watched a rerun of the AFC World Cup. Khaled didn’t cheer, or groan, or offer any commentary of any kind throughout the whole match. It was unusual for Khaled to remain this quiet and glum during a game. Thomas gently took the mug from his hands and set it on the table. “What’s wrong? Why are you so quiet this evening? Is it –oh, is it because of that little scare off the side of the road?” he guessed. Khaled pushed his weight up against him, just short of burrowing into the man’s side.

“I guess I scared you pretty badly, didn’t I? Look, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I know now it wasn’t you, but I had to be sure. I promise I will never fake you out like that again.”

The young man remained silent as he leaned against his chest.

“If anything, you should be blaming that boyfriend of yours,” he continued. “I bet he never would’ve attempted that hit if he knew what I was about to do to you tonight. But, what’s done is done, and now you’ll never see him again.”

Khaled did not respond.

It took about an hour more of mind-numbing soccer footage for him to realize the boy had fallen asleep on him.

Oh. He softly smiled as he turned off the TV. He carefully got up and lowered Khaled onto the couch, disentangling the towel from his unconscious, nude form. He propped a throw pillow behind his head, then unfurled a fleece blanket and draped it over him, making sure his feet were covered and he was properly tucked in for the night. “Goodnight, Khaled,” he whispered, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on the side of the boy’s parted lips. “I… love you...”

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[all-the-gory-details]

(for the requests:) Whumpee getting shot and caretaker having to choose between them and the mission!

TW: Guns, gunshot wound, minor character death, injury, left behind

Caretaker was rounding the corner when the shot rang out behind them: loud, sharp, and far too close for comfort.

They spun just in time to see Whumpee fall to a knee, clutching their side, gun laying on the floor where they dropped it.

Instinct took over, and they fired three shots into the threat at the end of the hall, effectively neutralizing the danger.

But the damage was already done.

Whumpee groaned, and Caretaker ran, dropping to the floor beside them in an instant. "Where-"

"Left abdomen," Whumpee said through gritted teeth. "H-hurts."

"I know." Gently, they pulled Whumpee's hand away to take a closer look at the wound.

It always surprised them, the damage a bullet could do. So small, yet so, so dangerous. They spotted both an entrance and an exit wound, so the bullet wouldn't have to be taken out.

But the blood...

Whumpee needed medical attention. Now.

"Lets get you up," Caretaker said, a hint of panic in their voice. They grabbed Whumpee's forearms and started to support them up.

But they hesitated, looking quickly from Caretaker to the compound still stretching ahead of them. "Caretaker, we need to finish the job-"

"I know-"

"And I can't keep going like this, not without slowing you down-"

"I know-"

"So you gotta leave me behind."

Caretaker froze, swallowing down their panic at the phrase. "I can't. I won't-"

"Then what? We abandon our mission? A lot of people could get hurt, Caretaker. We need to finish this."

They winced, looking once more back and forth, checking for danger. "Y-you're hurt. you need a doctor-"

"And you need to leave me here and finish the job. We can go after."

They shake their head, "no way-"

"Go! I'll wait here." Shakily, they started to half-crawl, half-scoot their way over to a wall, sitting with their back to it. They grabbed their gun in one hand and pressed the other to their side, staunching the blood.

Caretaker hated this. They hated themself, for letting Whumpee get hurt.

And they hated themself for what they were about to do.

"I-I'll be quick," they said weakly, edging towards the hall leading deeper into the building.

"And I'll be fine." Whumpee smiled.

They both knew they were lying.

[whumpy-wyrms]

The Last Lab Rat CYOA #10

TLLR AU masterlist | TLLR masterlist

content: second person pov (whumpee), lab whump, captivity, test subject whumpee, scientist carewhumper

You chose: Ask questions. Find out everything you can about what this means for you.

— 

“I bet you have a lot of questions,” he says after a while of you two just staring at each other. You nod frantically.

“Y-yeah,” you say, “I do.”

“I suppose it’s only right to let you ask them. Fine. What else do you wanna know?”

Your mind floods with endless questions you have for him, almost too much to process. You start with what seems most important. “H-how long are you planning to keep me here?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “A while? I mean, I don’t ever plan on letting you go. In theory, we’d be here for the rest of our lives. This is your home now, there’s no getting out of it.”

Home? He can’t actually expect you to accept this that easily. “Why? Why are you doing this?”

“Like I said, I needed a new test subject. Experimenting on myself for… so long… got to be too dangerous.” He sighs. “And I needed a change of pace. Company will do me well I think.”

You bring your knees to your chest, noticing your ankle bringing you less pain than before, despite the sudden movement. “D-dangerous? What are you gonna do to me?”

His eyes light up, those green eyes glowing brighter for a fraction of a second, and he looks giddy with excitement. “I have a lot of plans, and a lot of experiments I've been itching to perform that I couldn’t do on myself. Most of them will consist of testing the limits of the human body and how far I can change it before becoming completely inhuman. I also wanna focus on the key to immortality, but I'm not too worried about that right now. Gotta get you used to what your life’s gonna be like here first, before making it never ending, right?”

“As for the actual experiments?” he continues. “I think it’ll be much more fun if I keep them a surprise.” He smiles a cheeky grin. “But don’t worry, you’ll find out soon.”

He wants to experiment on you, to change you. There’s no way that’ll be completely painless. You’re scared to find out, but you need to ask; “How much will it hurt?”

“…I’ll try my best to make it painless, but that won’t always be possible. It’s science, y’know? Sometimes the pain is necessary to get the results we want. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. You won’t be in any real danger.”

You have a hard time believing that. Experiments? Pain? Mysterious vials of fluid already flowing through your system? It sure sounds like you’re in danger here. He hasn’t exactly been very subtle. You shouldn’t believe a word of comfort he says. “Are you gonna kill me?”

“No!” All the excitement leaves his eyes and he frowns, a horrified look crossing his face from just the idea alone. He shakes his head. “Never. I’ll never let you die, I promise. You’ll be safe here.”

“But you kidnapped me, you drugged me, you hurt me. I don’t feel safe.”

“I did what I had to do. I’m sorry if that scared you, but you’re here now. So everything is going to be alright.”

“But I didn’t wanna come with you, and you took me anyway. You broke into my home.”

“I gave you the chance to come willingly but you didn’t, so I had to take matters into my own hands. You’d already seen me; I couldn’t let you get away and tell people. And I didn’t exactly break in, you always leave your back door unlocked anyway.”

“You… you knew where I lived the whole time?”

“Yeah, I mean, wasn’t it obvious?” He laughs. “I mean, I wasn’t just gonna take some random person off the street to be my new test subject. I needed to know if you were the right fit, and I had to learn more about you so I could get ready for your arrival.”

Curse your noise canceling headphones keeping you oblivious from your surroundings. He’d followed you home more times than just that night. You knew you recognized him!

“How long?”

“Few weeks?”

“Damn.”

“I just needed to be prepared. It was a precautionary measure. I haven’t had an actual test subject in five years, I needed to make sure I was making the right choice.”

“And did you?”

He shrugs. “I hope so?”

You can’t stop yourself from getting more and more anxious about this all. He always seems to be one step ahead. You take deep breaths and try to swallow your nerves. “Why me?”

“Because… I dunno. I just needed someone. You’re healthy, you’re not stronger than me, you’re perfect for experimentation. And you just seemed… lonely.”

“…People will come looking for me.”

His expression warps to one of pity, and his voice softens. “Aw, no they won’t. I have ways to make sure nobody notices you’re gone or comes looking for you. And we’re far, far away, buddy. Nobody will find us out here.”

That can’t be true. You don’t want to believe it. “Where are we?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t want you getting any ideas about escaping, now do we?”

“Is anyone else here?”

“Nope, just me.”

“Who are you working for?”

“Myself?”

“Does anyone else know about this place?”

“…Nope.”

You decide to use a different approach. “Are you really just planning to keep me trapped down here? You can’t just keep me from the outside! I’m a human, not some lab rat, I need sunlight!”

“Well, you are my test subject now so this place is where you belong. I know this room isn’t much, but it’s better than what the alternative would be. But maybe… I’ll take you on walks outside, if you behave. That’d be a good reward! I want you to be comfortable here. And if there’s anything you need, I’ll find a way to get it for you.”

“What about all my things? My home? What’s gonna happen to all that?”

“Those are not yours anymore. You don’t need to think about that. This is your home now. Your old life is behind you.”

A shiver runs down your spine. You can no longer hide the panic in your voice. “You’re really not letting me go?”

“No. Like I said, you’re my test subject now. Everything will be so much easier for the both of us if you just accept that.”

“And if I don’t?”

He frowns. “…Then neither of us will have a good time.”

You look to the floor. He’s really serious about this, about all of this. The lab out there wasn’t just for show, it’s an actual mad science lab filled with dangerous things that could be used to hurt and change you. You have no idea what he’s planning on doing to you and how you’ll end up in the end— or if there will even be an end.

“Hey,” he says softly. You look at him. “You’ll be okay. You’ll probably come to like it here eventually. It won’t be that bad.” After you don't say anything, he asks, “Do you have any more questions?”

“…Are you responsible for all this that’s… going on?”

He blinks, looking genuinely confused. “What’s… going on?”

“You know.”

“No I don’t.”

“You must!”

“If it’s not related to me then… I don’t.” His eyebrows scrunch up and he leans in closer, a worried look plastered all over his face. “Hey, buddy, are you okay?”

You blink. This conversation is going nowhere. He seems to have told you everything he was going to. You know more about what your life will be like here, what he wants with you, what it means to be his test subject. Horrifying relentless experiments done to you with you having no say in the matter, a complete lack of freedom and autonomy. A lab rat to a mad scientist. It has a nice ring to it, but is this really the life you want?

next

— 

hehehehehe

taglist: @creppersfunpalooza @whumpsday @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @inkwell-and-dagger @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@vidawhump @bottlecapreader @whumpinthepot @lumpywhump @paperprinxe

@indigoisaspookyghost2 @lumpofsand @whump-till-ya-jump @inhurtandincomfort @echo-of-umbra

@sariadragon

let me know if you want to be removed or added to the taglist!

[whumblr]

"I'll deal with him myself."

Hi, yes, big fan of these words in like all variations:

Whumper spitting the words at his henchmen but eyes focused on Whumpee

(Who may or may not have been a huge pain in the ass up til now)

The "Back off!'' *insert predatory grin* "He's mine." While holding out an arm to stop the henchmen.

Other options include the:

"I've been waiting for this!"

Gotta do everything myself here.

Can't trust any of you to get this done.

"After all, this requires a... personal touch."

Whumpee rearing up, confident he can beat every single one of these stupid weak ass henchmen. But then a voice rings out and Whumper steps in. "I'll deal with him myself," he says with a grin and Whumpee can feel his confidence drain and fear build up.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other."

Love this when a whumper has mostly been operating from the shadows but at some point is forced to step in himself.

Or someone who lets his thugs do the dirty work and just watches. But Whumpee is putting up more of a fight than they thought.

Bonus points if Whumper steps in and the fight is over in a flash.

Insert dramatic pause and rolling up of sleeves and we have a banger.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Whumptober 2024 No. 16- "No, I Can't Feel Anything"

Caretaker, Leader, and Teammate 1 burst through the door to Whumpee’s cell. Whumpee lay motionless on the bed, not even lifting their head to look at them.

“Whumpee! It’s us!” Caretaker shouted.

“Caretaker?” Whumpee asked, still not moving.

“Yes, it’s Caretaker. We’re getting you out of here!”

Caretaker and Leader approached the bed while Teammate 1 kept watch at the door.

“Are you hurt?” Leader asked, checking them for injuries.

“No, but-”

“Let’s go,” Leader said, taking Whumpee’s hand and moving.

Whumpee’s hand fell from Leader’s grasp, limp. Leader turned, looking at Whumpee with a puzzled expression.

“Whumpee, we gotta go now,” Caretaker said.

“I know, I know, but…” Whumpee paused, “I can’t move.”

Silence hung in the room, the commotion outside getting more noticeable because of it.

“…What?”

“They gave me something before you got here. They’ve been giving it to me for days…”

Leader took Whumpee’s hand and squeezed it.

“Whumpee… can you feel that?” they asked.

“No, I can’t feel anything.”

Caretaker and Leader exchanged worried looks. The clamor in the corridor got even louder. Voices shouting, footsteps thundering.

“Guys we’ve gotta go!” Teammate 1 shouted, firing their gun.

Caretaker swept Whumpee up into a bridal carry. Their head lolled back. Caretaker repositioned them so that their head rested against their chest.

“We didn’t come all this way to leave you behind. If you can’t walk, we’ll just have to carry you.”

Caretaker rushed out the door with Whumpee in their arms, Leader right behind them. Teammate 1 fired a few more shots and turned on their heel to follow them.

“How did you even get in here?” Whumpee asked tiredly, “this place is a fortress.”

“Escape now, questions later,” Leader said.

Whumpee got their answer when the team climbed out of a huge hole in the facility’s wall. Teammate 2 was waiting in the driver’s seat of the team’s car.

“Let’s go let’s go!” Teammate 2 shouted.

Everyone jumped into the vehicle. Medic was waiting in the backseat, and slammed the door shut behind everyone.

“Drive!” Leader yelled.

Caretaker lay Whumpee down on the floor mats. They gazed up at the ceiling, since it was the only thing they could do at the moment.

Medic knelt by Whumpee, examining them with a flashlight.

“Why were you carrying them out?”

“They can’t walk. Their entire body is numb,” Caretaker explained, “they’ve been drugged for who knows how long.”

Medic cursed.

“It doesn’t look like it’ll be permanent,” Medic said.

“Yay,” Whumpee said quietly.

“But-”

“There’s always a but-” Whumpee sighed.

“But I’ll need to keep an eye on them all the same,” Medic finished, “I don’t know which specific drug they’ve been given, or at what dosage. Depending on how long they’ve had them, there could be nasty withdrawals.”

…

The group rode in silence for over an hour. When they finally got back to the base, Whumpee had to be carried inside.

“I want a shower so bad,” Whumpee said.

“Okay, I can wash you,” Caretaker replied.

“Uh, maybe not that bad…”

“You really should get cleaned up,” Medic said, “who knows what germs were in that place.”

“Can’t we wait until I can move again?” Whumpee asked.

“I’m not gonna look at anything,” Caretaker promised, “I’ll be quick.”

…

Caretaker dried Whumpee off with a soft, fluffy towel. They helped them into pajamas and tucked them in bed. Whumpee’s cheeks were red from embarrassment. They closed their eyes so they wouldn’t have to look at Caretaker.

“Thanks…” they said quietly.

“Anytime.”

Caretaker went to leave.

“Wait!” Whumpee cried, their eyes open again.

Caretaker turned.

“…Can you stay? Please?” Whumpee asked, “I was alone for so long…”

Caretaker nodded. They sat down at Whumpee’s bedside. The first thing Whumpee would feel upon waking up the next morning was the soft embrace of Caretaker’s arms.

Patreon

Ko-Fi

Redbubble

Tags:

@mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

@electrons2006 @just-a-space-rabbit

[holidayinhell]

CWs: vampire whumper, human whumpee, blood, dubcon smut, noncon

It was dark when Whumper slipped into Whumpee’s room. Even the light of the moon was absent that night.

Shadows danced across the walls, but Whumper’s eyes pierced through the darkness, his footsteps inaudible as he crossed the threshold, making his way towards the resting figure laying in bed, lost in sleep. 

He couldn’t resist drinking in every detail of the man’s slumbering face: the gentle curve of his soft, slightly parted lips, the dark lashes fanned delicately against his cheeks. Whumper liked him best like this—sprawled helplessly across the sheets, stripped of that usual, insufferable bravado.

Whumper’s eyes flickered. A shiver of desire crept in, sparked by the sight of Whumpee’s utter defenselessness. He wanted to take him then and there.

So much had changed since they’d last seen each other...

At least this was a familiar urge.

Whumper crawled on top of the sleeping man, the mattress sinking under him as he settled his weight over Whumpee’s slender hips.

He shouldn’t have come here. He shouldn’t be doing this. He should have stayed the fuck away. 

But it was getting increasingly harder to fight the bloodlust.

Whumpee shot awake with a terrified jolt.

“Hey. Easy there.”

“WHO THE FUCK?!” Whumpee’s heart pounded as he scrambled to make sense of the shadow looming over him.

“It’s me. Sorry to scare you.”

“Whumper? Jesus fuck!” Whumpee yelled, breathless as he gave Whumper a shaky shove to the chest. “Goddamn it. What the hell are you doing?!”

“Quiet,” Whumper murmured as he pressed a finger to Whumpee’s lips. “Shhhhh.”

Whumpee instinctively took a bite at the finger resting on his mouth.

“Hey.” Whumper snapped.

“Hey yourself, fucko! What did I tell you?!” Whumpee clutched his racing heart, terror still coursing through him. “You’re gonna fucking kill me some day. You’ve gotta stop doing this shit!”

"Sorry. Yeah. I know. But please, calm down," Whumper whispered softly. He gently caught Whumpee's wrists, pressing them back against the pillow. "Easy. Relax."

Whumpee let out a long, exhausted sigh as his frantic heartbeat settled. “Gah. I really thought you were some kind of fucking rapist burglar or something. You scared the shit of me.”

“I know. Sorry.”

There was a long pause as the two sat in the silence of their unspoken thoughts. 

Whumpee stared into the black of the room, his eyes straining to make out anything through the edgeless darkness. On top of him, Whumper watched the other quietly, taking in the lingering fear coursing through Whumpee’s veins, drinking in the thrill of his quickened heartbeat.

Impatient as ever, Whumpee broke the silence first. “Where have you even been?” He piped up.

Whumper couldn’t answer that truthfully. “Why? Did you miss me, Whumpee?”

“No. I didn’t,” Whumpee spat. “But thanks for popping by and scaring the shit out of me anyways.”

Whumpee quickly turned over to reach for the bedside lamp. But just as his fingers grazed the switch, he was interrupted by Whumper’s mouth locking to his lips.

Whumpee jerked away from the sudden, uninvited kiss.

“Fuck you.”

Whumper chuckled. “We can, if you want.”

Whumpee gritted his teeth, trying to squirm free. Whumper hadn’t bothered to call in weeks, and now he showed up in the middle of the night, literally breaking into his house, sneaking into his bedroom, and he what, expected to bone?

“I don’t think so. Get off of me.”

“Don’t be like that.” Whumper chuckled, his hands tracing Whumpee’s collarbone, traversing his touch to the man’s shoulders. His grip slowly tightened around the bony knobs. “I wanted to see you. Sorry I scared you.”

“Dude.” Whumpee tried to shimmy out of his grasp, thrashing to free himself from under Whumper’s weight. “Stop pissing me off.”

“Stop being so fucking dramatic.”

“Then stop scaring the shit out of me at 3 am! Get off!!”

Whumper didn’t move. Instead, he pressed his mouth against Whumpee’s neck, diving into the exposed, soft skin. He planted delicate kisses along the exquisite curve of the other’s throat, each glide of his tongue igniting a trail of goosebumps that danced across Whumpee’s flesh.

“Don’t be such a baby.” Whumper hummed in a low, sultry voice. “I just wanna make you feel good.”

The heat of his breath sent immediate shivers down Whumpee’s spine. Fuck, it felt good—too good. But fuck him, too.

The strong man continued to suckle at the tender area, the warmth of his lips coaxing a soft sigh from the defenseless plaything pinned beneath him. 

Enthralled by the mounting pleasure, Whumpee let his head roll back deeper into the downy pillow, instinctively granting Whumper better access to his neck. Whumpee was a mess of feelings, torn between frustration and the undeniable tightening in his boxers.

“I—nnf. I fucking hate you,” he managed to rasp.

“That’s fine,” Whumper replied with a teasing lilt. "Hate me if you want.”

Whumper’s tongue swirled around Whumpee’s earlobe. Hot, heavy breaths pervaded his senses.

“I know you like this.”

Yes. He loved it.

And he fucking missed it. 

Whumpee’s breath stuttered. Whumper seemed different somehow. Quiet. Intense. Feral. 

There was electricity in the air, a curious energy drew him into the man. As intoxicating as it was, it filled Whumpee with apprehension. As much as he craved the exhilarating pull of Whumper’s touch, a gnawing feeling in his head warned him to keep his distance.

He tried to put an end to it. “It’s nice, but. No. Not tonight.” 

“Shh…” Whumper’s hand dove into the elastic of Whumpee’s waistband. He’d forgotten how persistent Whumper could be.

“I don’t think I can—ah,” The strong hand in his underwear grasped his member, pumping him until his eyes rolled back. God damn it felt good. “Ah—I’ve got stuff to do, ah-!”

“Fuck you smell good.”

Whumpee quivered under the heavy shadow, fists clenching. “Whumper. No. I’ve got stuff to do. In the. In the morning.” 

“Just a little longer,” Whumper hummed. “Come on. It’s been a while…”

Whumpee wanted to hate it—he wanted to lash out, cuss at him, and kick Whumper’s ass right out the door. But fuck, he needed this. Touch-starved from more than a month of no contact, Whumpee yearned for him; he ached to surrender to Whumper, to be held down and pounded into the ground.

Whumper didn’t deserve this from him, though. He knew he shouldn’t give in. He needed to set better boundaries. And yet, he could feel his resolve crumble with every passing second.

Whumpee’s hips buckled as Whumper’s hand continued stroking his cock. He’d chew Whumper out about this later, he decided, drinking in the weight of the muscular thighs pressing him into the mattress. For now he’d enjoy this.

“You smell so good...” Whumper leaned in, planting a firm kiss on Whumpee’s lips as he pulled the slender man’s body off the bed and into his arms, rocking his hips against the other as he gathered him close.

“Mmm. Thanks. You smell…” Whumpee murmured, his voice low and playful as he caught a whiff of Whumper’s scent. “Uh. Kinda like dirt.”

He hadn’t noticed initially, but the smell of rain clung to Whumper’s shirt, filling Whumpee’s nose with its damp, earthen aroma. It smelled especially sharp, mineral-rich, like a mixture of wet soil and stone.

“Wait. Are you muddy? Your shirt is wet. And like, dripping all over m--,” 

Whumper silenced him with another kiss, his hands sliding Whumpee’s underwear down his thighs. Now that he was naked he was more keenly aware of Whumper’s almost… stickiness?

“Seriously, if you got mud in my bed, I swear…” Whumpee muttered. 

“Okay. Stop talking now.”

Whumper roughly pushed Whumpee backwards onto his pillow. He clutched his sharp hips, flipping the man over onto his belly.

“Woah woah woah. Wait!”

“Don’t worry.”

“Wait!” Whumpee repeated, scrambling to lift his chest away from the bed. “I don’t think--”

“Stop moving.”

“Wait. No really, Whumper. I don’t think we should. It’s late.”

“It’s alright.” Whumper purred, tracing a line down Whumpee’s spine with his index finger, delivering a crisp smack to Whumpee’s ass. “I’ll be fast.”

“Dude.” Whumpee shook his head with a weary sigh. “I’m not your personal fuck toy, you know.”

“Sure you are.”

Whumper grabbed the back of Whumpee’s head, shoving his face into the plush pillow and holding it there.

Whumpee’s chest tightened as he tried to catch a breath through the fabric. He thrashed beneath the man pinning him to the bed, refusing to give Whumper the satisfaction of giving in.

“Mmph! MMF MFF!”

“Lay still,” Whumper murmured, ignoring the muffled protests beneath him. “It’ll all be over soon.”

Whumpee twisted his head back once more, only to have it slammed back into the pillow again.

“Don’t look at me.” Whumper commanded, his tone edging on desperation. “Sorry. Please just.”

A hot, wet finger entered Whumpee, and then another. Globs of saliva fell onto his rim, and busy fingers immediately kneaded the moisture inside him. Whumpee kicked his legs out in protest. 

Owwwww. Whumpee moaned into the pillow. It hurt. It fucking burned in his ass, boiled in his stomach. It was all happening entirely too fast.

“Sorry-- for a second. Don’t move.”

Then, without warning, Whumper pressed his enormous cock against Whumpee’s hole. He rammed it against the entrance, eagerly cramming his way inside.

Whumpee lifted his head, letting out a blood-curdling scream.

A strong hand cupped his mouth, silencing his wails. Whumper’s full weight bore down on him as he mercilessly pounded his cock into Whumpee, hand covering his mouth and nose.

The pain was excruciating, devoid of anything remotely close to pleasure.

Next to that, Whumpee could barely breathe.

Whumpee’s tongue jabbed at the palm keeping his mouth closed, wiggling it between Whumper’s fingers.

Holy shit. Holy shit. His ass was on fire and he could barely breathe. 

Scrambling for oxygen, he dug his fingernails into Whumper’s arms, clawing at the flesh with all the strength he could muster. The man on top of him paid no mind. He continued plowing Whumpee into the sheets, merciless and unyielding, refusing to remove his suffocating hand until the man’s thrashing faded into weak, sporadic kicks. 

When Whumpee finally went limp, the hand released its grip. Whumpee gasped for air, taking a deep, ragged breath, and then he screamed. 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Fueled by adrenaline, he twisted his body and lunged toward the lamp on his bedside table.

When the light flicked on, it revealed a horrifying scene. 

All he saw was red.

Red staining his sheets, seeping through the fabric like thick, viscous ink. Red handprints were stamped onto his white pillowcase, smears of red streaked across the white walls and carpet. Whumpee glanced down, and his breath caught; his naked body was coated in it too, like a sticky second skin.

It wasn’t mud that he’d smelled on Whumper.

Frozen in place, Whumpee stared blankly at the man sitting on his bed. 

He must’ve been drenched in gallons of blood. The thick, sticky red stained Whumper’s hands, dripped from his chin, and splattered across his face. The sight was torn straight from a nightmare.

Whumper shook his head slowly, an unsettling calmness in his demeanor.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

His gaze locked on Whumpee, intense and unblinking. A feral, predatory glint in his eye gave a promise of what was to come next.

“Wha-wh-what is…” Whumpee stammered. His pulse hammered in his ears and drowned out all rational thought. His mind screamed at him to run, but his body refused to obey. “Why are you-- i-is that--?!”

“I need more, Whumpee,” the blood-soaked monster pleaded, desperation ringing his voice. “Just a taste.”

“Why are you…?.” Panic kicked into overdrive and Whumpee smacked the man away.

“Just give it to me” Whumpee went in for another hit, but Whumper caught his wrist mid-air, pulling the other into him.

“Please. I don’t want to have to make you.” The hunger pressed against the edges of Whumper’s mind. One quick taste was worth any price.

“FUCK OFF!” Whumpee yelled. “HELP! Somebody, hel--!”

He kicked at Whumper, flailing until his body was thrown from the bed. He could do this. He could make it out of here. He scrambled across the floor, desperately crawling to the doorknob, eager arm outstretched.

Just as Whumpee reached the exit, a brutal grip seized his wrist, wrenching his arm behind his back, sending his cheek crashing into the hardwood floor. 

Whumper climbed on top of Whumpee for the final time. 

“H-help me. Oh my god, oh fucking god…”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

The world around him blurred and spun around Whumpee, every sound distant as pain pulsed from his head and radiated through his body.

“Whumper—W-Whumper please—!”

“I tried.”

“Whumper!” he shrieked. “Don’t!”

“I’m sorry, Whumpee.”

“I-I don’t know what you did.” Whumpee cried. “I won’t tell anyone. I won’t. Don’t...!”

“Doesn’t matter…” he leaned in closer, his breath warm and heavy against Whumpee’s skin. “Sorry. I can’t control it anymore.”

“Don’t d-do this!” 

Whumper pressed his fangs against the soft curve of Whumpee’s neck. 

“Sorry, Whumpee,” he whispered. “I’m just so fucking hungry.”

((more Whump oneshots))

[whumper-whimsy]

Back Home P4

A shorter part, but i need to post lmao

Captivity, beatings, conditioning, pet whump, domestic whump, noncon

Caretaker paced in their bedroom, fists clenched at their sides. Two days. Two fucking days.

Whumpee had been with Whumper for two days, not counting the night they were taken back. They were gone, and Caretaker had done jack shit to get them back.

They had to do something, and they needed to do it fast. God knows what Whumpee was already going through under that monster's care, and Caretaker was doing nothing.

But what could they do? Legally, Whumper owned Whumpee, and the contract between Caretaker and Whumper stated clearly that if Caretaker did not make their payments, Whumper could take them back.

Whumpee wasn't an animal— why couldn't the law see that? Caretaker had called the cops until their phone died, begging them for any shred of help— only to be told that Whumper was in the right. Whumper, the one who kidnapped their partner, who hurt them so terribly? Whumper was in the right?

Caretaker yelled and spun, driving his fist through the drywall. He pulled his hand back, panting, and stared at the crumbling wall. Whumpee would fret over it when they came back, they were sure.

♧♣︎♧♣︎♧♣︎♧♣︎♧

Whumpee sat obediently between Whumper's legs, letting themself be pet as Whumper spoke to someone else on the phone. It was nice, basking in the comforting warmth of the fireplace after their long, exhausting day. Whumper pet Whumpee absently, their fingers gently scratching at their scalp.

Whumpee closed their eyes, cheek pressed to their thigh. They could fall asleep like this, especially with the day they'd had.

Whumper was insistent on retraining Whumpee as fast as possible so they could get right into the 'fun part.' This meant two days in a row of re-learning everything. Whumpee's back stung with any movement, the result of a fairly harsh whipping. They did their best to stay still, content to drift off right there and then.

♧♣︎♧♣︎♧♣︎♧♣︎♧

Whumper smirked down at Whumpee, who'd passed out so peacefully on their lap. They tutted softly, letting out a little chuckle. Whumper resumed their conversation on the phone cheerfully, "Oh, the sweet thing fell asleep on me. Gods, I wish you could see Whumpee right about now."

Their colleague's smile carried in their voice as they spoke, "truly, you must bring them over some night! They sound absolutely darling."

Whumper smirked, looking down at their sleeping pet. "Perhaps I should. Maybe yours can leave an impression on them, lead by example. Mine was temporarily rehomed, and the stupid thing forgot nearly everything I taught it." Whumper rolled their eyes, scratching the back of the sleeping pet's neck. "Luckily, it seemed to click for them, for the most part. They're quite an eager thing once they get used to it."

Whumper's friend hummed and was quiet for a moment, then clicked their tongue. "Two days from now, I'm hosting a party. If Whumpee can behave and properly socialize, you can bring them. I'm inviting all my buddies! You have a plus-one, not including your pet. I'll send an invite your way, alright? And— oh, hey! Knock that off, you stupid— ugh, I gotta go. These things just cannot behave, can they? Talk to you another time!"

"See you," Whumper responded, hanging up. With a hum, he patted Whumpee's cheek. "Up, baby."

♧♣︎♧♣︎♧♣︎♧♣︎♧

"Up, baby."

Whumpee opened their eyes, shaking their head to wake themself. Whumper was off the phone and was staring at Whumpee with mischief in their eyes. Whumpee sat up, clearing their throat. "Sorry, sorry. I- I'm just tired, and—"

"Quiet. You know you're meant to sleep in your kennel."

"Yes, sir, I just—"

"Quiet."

Whumpee flinched, pullling away from Whumper and nodding. They watched as Whumper rose, grabbing their end of the leash and pulling Whumpee away from the cozy little nook.

The past few days had been weird. Whumper had eased up on Whumpee for the most part, as long as they behaved. They were still gropey and touchy, but now it came with words of praise instead of humiliation. Maybe it was because Whumpee was behaving.

Why was Whumpee behaving? They honestly couldn't find a simple answer to that. Maybe it was for rewards? Or to avoid punishment? Did Whumpee like the rewards? Well, they did, but should they?

What would Caretaker think?

That question rattled around Whumpee's head for a while as they headed for the bedroom.

Even if things were getting better, the worst part was still... well, this.

Whumpee was lifted into Whumper's bed and placed on their back. Whumper's hands ran up their stomach, their palms pressing down against Whumpee's warm skin. Whumper's voice was like a purr as they spoke. "There you go, just stay still for me."

Whumpee closed their eyes as that familiar sickness stirred in their gut. They tried to move away, shaking their head. "No, no, not now... please... Whumper, I'm so tired, just let me go to- mmph—" they were muffled by Whumper's hand.

"Hush, dear. Just sit back and— no, no, stop kicking. Come on, this is the easiest part... it feels good, doesn't it?"

Whumpee continued to protest behind Whumper's hand, thrashing and kicking their legs. Whumper got more frustrated, getting up on the bed to hold Whumpee's legs down. "Seriously, baby, it's not that hard. You've cum for me before, haven't you? You know how good it feels. If you could just–"

Whumpee clamped down on Whumper's hand, their teeth locking on to the flesh. Whumper roared in pain, swinging their dominant hand around to punch Whumpee in the face.

"You goddamned little— Christ, what's so hard for you to get?!" Whumper shouted, gripping Whumpee by the hair. "Everything else, you're obedient as a dog, but you can't take ONE single task properly?! It was easy! You just had to lay down and let me do what I needed to!" Whumper dragged Whumpee by the hair to the ground, dropping them. "Do I need to beat you harder? Can't you get it through your stupid little brain?!" Whumper shouted.

Whumpee cowered, tears running down their cheeks. They were struggling to speak through their sobs. "Im sorry, I—"

"Yeah? You sure are one sorry pet, you know that? No, I'm not letting you fucking babble your way out of this. You're gonna lay the fuck down, you're gonna shut the fuck up, and you're gonna take what you deserve. Exactly what you fucking deserve."

Whumpee hiccuped and cringed away, feeling heat press in on them as Whumper forced them back onto the cold floor.

Taglist:

@defire

[eight-littlenightmares]

whump idea: screaming

cw: recapture, screaming, gag, car, references to past trauma, young whumpee, kidnapping, a lot of swearing/vulgar language, ehh stuff like that

***

Whumpee is walking home. It’s been a few weeks since she’s escaped her kidnapper Whumper—she’d been there a couple months, hadn’t even been the worst couple months she’d ever had, especially compared to the other incident—and she’s feeling better.

Or at least that’s what she’s telling herself. Truthfully she’s just as jumpy as always.

And tonight is no exception. In fact she’s feeling even worse tonight. She’s walking home after hanging out with her best friend all day. It had been great, she absolutely loves her best friend, but she’d stayed a little later than she’d meant to and now it’s pretty dark out. She feels strangely paranoid and she’s not quite sure why.

No, she does know why. She’s been jumpy ever since her first kidnapping, two or three years ago. She’d barely started recovering from that when Whumper had kidnapped her, that bastard.

Whumpee starts walking faster. She knows she’s just being stupid and paranoid as always, but she can’t shake the feeling that she’s being watched. And also maybe followed—no, no, she’s being ridiculous.

She’s going to get home just fine, and when she does she is going to sit on a fucking counter to exposure therapy herself. (It hasn’t really done anything other than make her unreasonably anxious yet, but she’s sure it’ll work at some point.)

But then Whumpee feels something. Nothing physical, nothing at all, but just a feeling, a feeling of something being Very Wrong. She can’t help it, she starts to turn around to look—

And then hands are on her.

Someone grabs her around the waist, someone much bigger than her, with rough hands and smelling of cigarette smoke.

Whumpee reacts immediately, shrieking and kicking at her attacker.

“..stop screaming,” a voice whispers into her ear. “I told you I’d find you again.” It’s Whumper’s voice.

Whumpee goes into a fit of terror. HELL NO, she is NOT being kidnapped again, she absolutely will not stand for it. No.

She starts to scream. As loud as she fucking can, screaming her fucking throat raw. She is NOT going back. She is not going ANYWHERE except HOME.

“HELP!!!” Come on. There’s gotta be someone nearby, someone who will wake up or who is already awake, someone who will care enough to save a poor teenager being kidnapped. Right? SOMEONE WILL SAVE HER, RIGHT?

She’s so fucking sick of this. She doesn’t wanna go back and she doesn’t wanna go anywhere with anybody, especially not Whumper. While Whumper isn’t the very worst person she’s ever had to deal with, he’s certainly not someone she ever wanted to see again. Fuck this guy anyways.

“Shut up,” Whumper snaps, glancing around to make sure they’re not being follows as he drags Whumpee towards his car.

Whumpee starts to scream louder. She’s getting more desperate. She will NOT go in that car, she absolutely REFUSES.

And then Whumper pulls a piece of cloth out of his pocket and ties it around Whumpee’s head in a gag. Whumpee struggles uselessly. She tries to scream again but her voice is muffled.

Whumper forces her facedown into the backseat of the car, wrenching her arms painfully behind her back and tying them with a length of rough cord. Whumpee feels tears begin to prick at the back of her eyes as she screams her fucking heart out. It’s not enough. It’s not fucking enough.

The car door slams shut. It sounds like a nail in a coffin. Then Whumper climbs into the front seat and starts the car.

The car starts moving. Whumpee has been kidnapped. Again.

(Hello!! Author’s note!! This is technically a oneshot of one of my OCs, but you can apply it to any character!! I also do not mind if you’d like to reblog and continue the story!!)

edit: changed Whumpee’s pronouns to she/her because she’s supposed to be based off of my OC anyways :D

[whumpisgoodwhumpislife]

Surviving

Masterlist

I really like urbex...

CW left to die, lab rat whumpee, living battery whumpee

#What do you mean, collapsed ? ...And you think the new... They won't support the Agency anymore ? You gotta be kidding me...

- This place is huge !

Marc's voice echoed in the main hall of the building. Even though the place must've been even more impressive ten years ago, when the walls weren't yet covered in moss and mold. He approached the railing, without daring to lean on it. His friends were already exploring the rooms below. He heard one of them gasp in amazement at the strangeness of the place.

- Do you think it was a hospital? Or a research lab, something like that?

Marc shook his head.

- I did my research. I didn't find anything about this region.

#We need to evacuate, the sooner the better. We have an affiliated company on the Southern coast...

Lena prodded warily at the beakers. Even with her hands gloved, she didn't like being here as much as her two friends.

- I think we should leave. What if they were experimenting on viruses, or chemical stuff ? Might be dangerous...

- Don't be a baby. It's been at least a decade since the lab was last used ! Everything toxic must've dissipated by now.

Marc wasn't so sure of it, but he kept silent. He waved to get the attention of the two others, and pointed at the large cylinder standing in the center of the room.

- Am I going nuts or do I hear something coming from this ?

#You can't... You can't ban us from entering our workplace! I have to get my research back... The specimens...

#Sorry doc. No exceptions.

- Yup, the pump is still working.

Lena stood up, slightly pale as she stepped away from the machinery surrounding the tank-like things. Now they could all hear it, the low, soft thump of the pump working. Doing what ? They couldn't tell, the glass wall made opaque by the profusion of algae that had grown inside. The two guys shared a confused look, refusing to acknowledge the nagging fear at the back of their mind.

- Maybe there are solar panels on the roof ? We didn't check.

- Yeah, or it's just still connected to the main electrical network...

Lena interrupted them, clearly distressed:

- Are you two stupid? You know what this means ! If the machinery works, then...

#Whatever. We don't need the subject anymore. He's condemned anyway.

- Then maybe whatever's inside is still... still...

The three friends exchanged a look.

- We gotta call the police.

Taglist : @sausages-things @jumpywhumpywriter @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thataquaticwhumper @alyscat

@whatamidoingherehelpme @fleur-a-whump @ratsupremacy88 @whatiswhump @scoundrelwithboba