#servant whumpee

[whump-queen]

Silver

tags: forced intox, manhandling, "servant" whump but lets be honest he's basically a pet

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Seven could smell the sharp sting of tequilia on Wes’ breath before he even saw the bottle.  

“Open up, servant.” Wes smiled and leaned in, forcing the stench further into Seven’s face, making him nearly gag at what he knew was coming. God he could already taste it. 

Seven tried to pull away, but a heavy hand found the back of his neck and harshly gripped his hair, holding him fast while the other hand messily shoved the bottle of silver upward and forced it past Seven’s lips. 

Seven knew not to struggle. He how to close his nose without plugging it by now. He’d hold his breath. He’d hold his—fuck. It burned in his empty stomach instantly. 

Considering all the occasions Wes had forced his servant to drink, Seven should���ve been an expert at this. But experience didn’t mean his nights went without mishap, and just because he knew how to drink it down for a few sips, it didn’t mean Wes would let up this time, forcing him to take gulp after excruciating fiery gulp until his mind was screaming for oxygen and for the poison to stop. Just stop. 

He could feel hot tears running down his face. He needed to breathe. It took everything in him to swallow and not fucking wretch as soon as Wes yanked the bottle away. Oxygen hit his lungs and he gasped for breath until he felt lightheaded.

“Can’t waste it all on a fucking servant,” Wes sneered, releasing his fingers from Seven’s hair, roughly tousling it instead. The force of his hand made the room spin and Seven could already feel it hitting him. Burning away deep his stomach and making his face feel hot and tingly. 

Wes turned away and Seven instantly grasped the wall, taking a few agonizing deep breaths, just trying so hard not to throw up. 

He’d done that before. On a night much like this one, and Wes had made him clean it all up while still nearly blacked out, promising that the next time, he’d clean it with his tongue. 

So Seven braced himself against the wall and tried to focus on his breath. He inhaled. God fuck. He exhaled. Fuck. He was going to gag.

Water.

He needed water.

This was going to be a long night. 

.

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series masterlist

[abhainnwhump]

So we all know the "Whumpee thinks Caretaker is their new master" trope, right? (my favorite version of this is when Caretaker is incredibly insecure and socially awkward and is just like "guys help") Anyways, instead of Caretaker coaxing these behaviors out of Whumpee, they take advantage of it. Caretaker never liked Whumpee before their kidnapping. Too loud, too annoying, too . . . everything. So once they get them back and they've been conditioned to be a perfect silent servant, they thought 'Well, it wouldn't hurt if I gave in for a while'.

Caretaker turned Whumpee into their personal servant and prevents them from healing. They have them do all the house chores, cooking, and cleaning. In exchange, they tell Whumpee 'good job', but most of the time they ignore them. That doesn't matter to Whumpee, it's more kindness then what Whumper gave them.

Whumpee is so used to be treated like a slave they don't question it. It isn't until Caretaker 2 or Whumper comes in does Whumpee realize something is off.

Bonus points if Caretaker was an abusive partner or friend before the whumpening.

[whumpwordsoftheday]

“If you break my leg, I won’t be able to do any more work.”

“Sweetie, you won’t need to do any work. I’ll do it. You can just sit tight and let me take care of you”

[whumpsoda]

AWWWHTHE TWO WHUMPEES ARE SO CUTE

I raise to the anon that raised to the other anon to potentially make the more aware whumpee be threatened by their whumper to be turned into the more thralled whumpee cause they’re easier to deal with. or maybe they have a trigger word that causes them to melt into that state? then the next play date it’s even cuter cause they’re both barely functioning

plus the vampires notice that a, whumpee’s get into way less trouble after a play date and they seem calmer and less lonely. b, the whumper’s are getting closer as a result of the play dates.

WOHEO Masterlist

This sort of fits with what you said but also this is kind of just what your ask inspired :D

But I’m gonna admit I really like this piece (it’s so late who knows how I’ll feel abt it in the morning) and I’m so happy to write Nevan again :3

Taglist- @softvampirewhump

cw- vampire whumper, human whumpee, hypnosis/brainwashing, humiliation, pet whump, servant whumpee multiple whumpers??

———————————————————————

Nevan stood, posture rigid and trained, just as his master liked it. He kept still and unmoving, the only exception remaining being the subtle rise and fall of his chest, but even that was predominantly covered by his newest, delicately cream colored dress. His hands stayed locked upon his abdomen, fingers neatly intertwined, and his expression remained relaxed and blank.

He didn’t know how long he’d been there. He didn’t need to think about it. He didn’t need to think. Master would call for him when he was needed. 

He waited and waited. He didn’t mind. If he had no use, Nevan stood still and pretty like Master wanted.

His eyelids soon fluttered open, triggered by his master’s ringing bell that instantly worked to pull him from a deep and submersive trance. His vision settled, shifting out of a muddled blur, so he could quickly gloss over the dimly lit kitchen. 

The ring of the bell, no matter how faint and far away, to Nevan was almost as loud as an airhorn beside his ear. It took easy hold of his cobweb filled, mushy brain.

Each step to follow the beautiful noise was planned and graceful, like a perfectly programmed robot. Various voices full of joy and laughter graced his ears as Nevan neared, still drowned out by the captivating bell. For a smidge of a second his glossy eyes took in the group of joyous vampires, before turning to Darius.

Nevan stopped by the vampire’s side dutifully, positioned perfectly. “You called for me, sir?” He questioned, head tipped as his glassy eyes stuck to the floor. 

Darius grinned pridefully to his friends, raising his glass to the thrall. “Refills for everyone, pet!” He demanded, slurring just a smidge at the end, and a few of the guests cheered in delight. Nevan shivered with glee from the mere sound of his master’s alluring voice.

“Of course, master.” Nevan swiftly stepped to the glistening silver platter that sat amidst the group, elegantly lifting a glimmering bottle of precious champagne. 

Conversation continued to whirl around him as Nevan made his way to each seat, filtering through one ear and out the other. Only a couple of them poked or prodded at Nevan, either inspecting him or jokingly attempting to break his intense focus. 

Liquid streamed from the opening of the bottle as he tilted it, the beverage bubbling and droplets splashing to the sides of each cup. 

The vampires easily ignored him, but a good boy like Nevan didn’t mind. He was but a servant, fulfilling his duty to ensure Master and his friends fully enjoyed themselves.

The last of the refills was Adrastus, and Nevan’s heart pulsed with excitement all on its own as he neared them. Just their presence was enough to cloud his mind in a sip of extra pleasure, considering how powerful they were. 

Nevan set the bottle of alcohol back to the platter with a tap, before sliding his hands to the ceramic teapot next to it. He tenderly gripped it, turning to the vampire, who greeted him with a heart melting smile.

“Hello, dear.” They held out their cup to him, their voice sending a chill of bliss trailing down his spine. 

Nevan could feel their eyes on him as he watchfully poured their fill, fighting back the urge to allow his drooping eyes to fall to a close. “Thank you, sweet.” 

“My, my pleasure…sir.” Nevan replied, subconsciously leaning toward their enticing aura. Adrastus continued grinning, leaning intently toward the thrall as well. 

“So polite.” They stroked an icy hand affectionately down his face, then clutched his chin, effectively pursing his lips and tugging him closer. His breath hitched as Adrastus looked him over, shifting his head slightly each way to get a good look. They grinned wide with satisfaction, their pale cheeks pillowing and squinting their mesmerizing eyes.

Looping a finger through the tight cream collar strapped around his neck, they yanked him further, Adrastus’ face level with Nevan’s neck. He whimpered involuntarily, head swimming as their breath gently warmed his exposed chest. Nevan drowsily inched his head to the side, happy to expose more skin. 

Please, please, please!

Adrastus slipped their finger out with a sharp laugh, causing Nevan to hazily flinch back. “How eager you are!” All eyes turned to them, and a flicker of dazed embarrassment tainted Nevan’s cheeks as the vampire chuckled. “Unfortunately I’m not your master, darling. Return to him and maybe he’ll be kind enough to fulfill that wish!” They giddily shooed him off.

His head began to clear just a bit as he stepped back, their spell loosening and his original orders resurfacing. Nevan set the pot back to its respective spot, and realizing he’d completed his master’s orders he strode to make a soft exit and return to his station.

The gazes of several vampires followed as he went to make his exit. He nearly passed right by  Darius, before a forceful hand gripped right above his elbow. Any movement quickly ceased, halting him to a stop, and Nevan’s glossy stare never wavered as his master spoke.

“Seems you’ve taken a liking to Nevan.” Darius sneered, but at Adrastus. “I can see why, though. I think I’ve finally perfected him.”

“Well of course I have, Darius. You’ve seemed to have molded him exceptionally well, even better than the last I saw you two!” They exclaimed, before reaching down to the floor by their side. “But of course there’s no contest between him and my precious little puppy.” Adrastus cooed, shuffling their own thrall’s shaggy curls.

Malak purred, leaning into the touch of his loving master, all the while practically hidden away in a swaddle of plush blankets. 

“Well you are a conditioning professional, aren’t you?” Darius joked. 

Unmoving and ready, Nevan wondered when his master would supply him his next order. 

Adrastus chuckled, giving Malak one more itch to the scalp. “Exactly! But, really, I’m certainly glad you’ve brought him to your liking. You always have been so particular with your thralls.” 

Darius sighed, leaning back in his seat. “I know, I know, I can’t seem to help it. I really did want to allow him to retain more of his lucidity and intelligence, but he just wasn’t good enough.” 

Nevan’s face fell with shame. He’d been bad. Even if now he couldn’t remember it, he’d disappointed his master, and for that he could never be forgiven.

“With a couple more conditioning sessions, he turned out perfectly, though.” Darius boasted, smugly. 

The vampire tugged lightly on his thrall’s arm, prompting Nevan to turn and face him. “Perfectly obedient, perfectly thoughtless. A bit of a husk, if you will.” Darius bragged, meeting his thrall’s gaze with his own enchanting, magnetizing, beautiful eyes.

“A pretty thing, too!” One of the unfamiliar guests chimed in, to Darius’ delight. Even with a devoid expression, Nevan was silently beaming at the compliment.

Adrastus huffed a chuckle. “You always have liked them pretty, haven’t you?”

“Well what’s the point in getting an ugly servant? They’d ruin the look of the whole house!” Darius declared, taking a brisk swig of his drink. “One of his jobs is practically just looking nice. Like a little statue when I don’t need him.”

The other vampires nodded in acceptance. “Nevan has many jobs, though.” Darius wickedly grinned, turning to his thrall. He looked to Nevan, waiting enthusiastically for the thrall to fulfill his unfortunately not verbalized wishes.

Buffering for a moment, the human made no moves, until he noticed his master lick his glittering fangs. Nevan trembled with mind melting pleasure, his upper body obediently dropping toward his master. Head cotton filled and buzzing, he craned his neck as far as he could manage, sticking his flesh eagerly in his master’s face. 

Master had already fed from him that night! He only took extra when Nevan was extraordinarily good! He beamed heavenly with a dreamy eyed smile.

Darius boisterously laughed, spittle flying from his open mouth, cutting right through Nevan’s bewitched spell. Other vampires giggled as well, and in a daze Nevan’s face twisted with a hint of confusion. 

“Like you said Adrastus, eager. He’s often a bit of an idiot, though.” Darius snickered, smiling to his guests. “Down, Nevan.”

The thrall dropped instantly to the hardwood flooring, knees bumping with a stinging thud. Darius looked down to him expectantly, and Nevan stared back with puzzlement until he noticed the vampire’s legs. Darius wiggled his limbs, lifting them above the floor and resting them in the air.

Nevan slowly came to realize his mistake, thankful his master wasn’t more brutal with his insults as he usually was. He eagerly crawled toward the front of his master’s chair, stationing himself under Darius’ stretched legs.

Darius plopped them to his arched back, ankles rolling across his spine. The vampire’s pants tickled Nevan’s skin, goosebumps raising in delighted hordes. 

Vampire laughs and claps enveloped the room, and Nevan could sense Darius relishing in the attention. “You did not! You really use him as a foot rest?” Adrastus exclaimed, poorly hiding their enjoyment of the scene. 

Darius answered smugly. “Don’t be so dramatic! He likes it, don’t you, bud?” He folded over, reaching down to stroke Nevan’s silky locks. 

Nevan mindlessly leaned into the gentle touch, savoring the gift of contact Darius so rarely gifted him.

“Good boy.” Darius praised, resting back comfortably in his seat, his hand slipping away. 

Another vampire quickly jumped in, grabbing the full attention of the group, leaving Nevan to devotedly hold his form.

He didn’t know how long he was there. Palms and knee caps burrowing into the hard floor, straining his joints and muscles. Fuzzed sound dancing around his ears, not quite making their way into his clogged mind. But it was okay.

Master would call him when he was needed.

[parasiticstars]

Information Desk

An in-universe archive of essays for my BBU world-building. Made mostly for my own pleasure.

CW: casual dehumanization; mentions of abuse

Types of Pets:

╰┈➤File Retrieved: Lapdogs.pdf ╰┈➤File Retrieved: Servant_Pets.pdf ╰┈➤File Retrieved: Labor_Pets.pdf ╰┈➤File Retrieved: Bedwarming_Pets.pdf ╰┈➤File Retrieved: Nurse_Pets.pdf ╰┈➤File Retrieved: Guard_Dogs.pdf ╰┈➤File Retrieved: Illegal_Pet_Types.pdf

Products:

Misc.: The rest of my writing

[painonthebrain]

Meet Rowan!!

[whumpingandsmilinglikeanidiot]

Words cannot describe how much Whumpee hated that place. Yet they were again dragged here, and the first few days of opening their eyes to that familiar view made them mutter over and over again, this is just a nightmare.

But the days after that, whumpee could feel their heart crawl inwards as the hardwired rules, the accustomed words, the trained behavior

jumped right back and fit them neatly.

It was almost as if this was how everything was meant to be.

[the-baby-storyteller]

Cw: minor whumpee, mentioned abuse, fear, slave whump

Whumpee was used to being sold, but it didn’t make the process any easier.

They kept their head down in the back of the car, their wild heartbeat contrasting the tight way they held themself. They thought about who their next owner would be. They wondered if they might be...kind. A wishful thought, they knew. They weren't foolish, they knew they would take anything; they didn’t have a choice. They just hoped….

They just hoped they wouldn’t be as bad as their last owner.

A shudder ran through them. Whumpee didn't...they didn't know if they could deal with someone like that again. If they did they might...might...-

Stop that, they thought with a frown, mentally slapping themself.

They didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on the past. They had to focus on the now, focus all their attentions on making sure their new owner was satisfied with them. That meant looking appealing, pleasant, and not wholly petrified from the scars of their last owner.

So many scars.

They sighed and fought to quell their quivering. They just- they couldn't. They couldn't deal with another-

And then the car jerked to a stop.

Their heart jerked to a stop as well.

Get a hold of yourself, they seethed internally. They couldn't be trembling and whimpering over memories.

Even if those memories could become their reality again.

They plastered a smile on as the seller pulled them out of the car, roughly enough to be domineering but not enough to harm the merchandise. Not before the real buyers could anyway. It doesn't matter, they thought to themself.

This is who they were, this was their life, they thought as they walked to the door of the house. They were an object, an amenity. A thing to be sold and used as others pleased. They didn't get to decide what happened to them, and if someone wanted to hurt them and use them and shatter them until them-

Whumpee choked.

Until they were so terrified they cowered and begged and cried and they still would never stop?

They would take it. It was not their choice to make.

They realized their smile had dropped. They took a deep breath. They smiled. It was shakier then last time. It was best they were going to get.

They opened the door.

-

Inside was nice. It was a regular looking house. They never got any information about who they were going to beforehand, (obviously not, who would tell a thing like them anything of importance, they only deserved taunts and threats), so they had no idea what to expect. They didn't know how many people they would be serving, if it would be one person, a whole family.

Whumpee didn't need to know or be told. They would adapt to them or be made to adapt.

The only thing they knew was that they needed to keep smiling and looking pleasing, and that's what they did. They weren't new at this.

A man walked over to them. He didn't look especially high-class; he held himself loosely and his clothes looked vaguely old. His face seemed to be stuck in a permanent tired-bored look. He also didn't look especially interested in Whumpee.

That was very okay with them.

They knew never to get their hopes up, though. They dropped their head. No speaking unless spoken to.

"I expect," they heard his strangely laid-back voice from above them, "you to not ask questions and just do as you are told. Understand?"

"Y-Yes, Master," they answered.

"Good. I'm sure you have experience in this anyway. Now follow me."

"Yes, Master." They said briskly, immediately rising and hurrying to catch up with him as he started walking further into the house.

He showed them around the house, the rooms, the closets, all the places they would need to be for their chores. He got a little close sometimes and they cringed from fear of being hit, but it didn't seem like he noticed as he just continued on with the pseudo-tour.

He took them to the dining room where they saw a man (man? He kind of looked more like a boy) sitting at the table, distracted on his phone. He looked up when they arrived. It didn't matter his age, Whumpee thought, Another Master. they instinctively looked down.

"This is my younger cousin." Master said, "He's staying here for a week."

They tried for a smile, albeit a weak one, and bowed. "H-Hello, Master," They ground out.

The man boy master looked at them a little inquisitively, and they froze, frightened, but he just went back to his phone without saying a thing.

They held back a sigh as they moved on. That would not be welcome in front of their new Master.

Master took them to the back of the house and then down a few steps towards a door. He opened it and suddenly a gush a cold air rushed out.

"This is the basement." He said, walking in as Whumpee physically resisted shivering.

"It's where you will be staying." He pointed idly to a bell that seemed to connect outside the room. "Stay here unless we call for you with this bell or if it's time for you to clean or cook something." He looked them up and down, then left the room

"Y-Yes, Master." They rasped, quickly bowing. They stayed in that position, not looking up, until the door closed, and then sighed and sagged down to the floor.

Everything threatened to come out, then. Tears pricked their eyes and they began to tremble as they couldn't hold anything in anymore Memories of writhing on the floor in pain, starved and beaten, came to mind and they paled. They were just so, so scared. They couldn't stop thinking about pain and their past master and what would be done to them and what if they were just like him-

Whumpee grasped their arms, digging their fingernails into them until they were on the brink of bleeding. They took a deep breath. They were fine. It was fine. It was good to be scared. Slaves like them were meant to be scared, they were meant to live in fear. They should be afraid of their masters, of what they could do. It should make them that much more set on serving their masters and doing what they said. What they could not do was let it affect their work.

They were fine. And yet, they trembled.

They steeled themself, stood up, and started to muse as they walked, exploring the small room of the basement. There was no bed or blankets, so Whumpee chose a small corner of the room to be their sleeping area. One lamp barely illuminated the whole room. Despite the cold, hard floors with no rug, the forbidding metal walls that trapped in the cold and didn't allow for any warmth, and the constant sound of wind blowing, they weren't upset. They never expected good conditions, and honestly the place had been pretty good so far. They were surprised none of the masters had done anything to them yet. They'd only ever been with one other person like that before, and even he got violent when drinking.

B-But what if they don't actually want to hurt me and just need me to work?

They shook their head violently, trying to expel the thoughts from it. That's ridiculous, stop dreaming. Just act as you normally do and hope they aren't anything l-like t-the last g-guy.. They grimaced painfully, looking away.

They came to a small clothing closet and pulled on a outfit suitable for cleaning. Their legs were mostly barren, offering them no protection in the frigid room, and they shivered. They had just finished fixing themselves up when the bell rang. They jumped, startled, then composed themself and entered into their servant mode, blank-faced and controlled. They quickly exited the freezing basement and climbed up the steps, trying to simultaneously hurry to get their orders, yet not look rushed or frantic like a novice slave.

They'd done this before.

They could do this.

[inkwell-and-dagger]

do you have a whumpee who needs to feel the christmas spirit, ready for another year that's passed since their misery began? not a problem!

feed your whumpee a couple discarded leftovers if they deserve it, or force them to eat it on / from the floor! if you have a servant whumpee, make them meticulously prepare any christmasey meals you may desire so you may sit back and relax.

give your whumpees gifts you can use on them for torture later on in the day! they better be grateful :)

hang your whumpees up! hang them up on your tree, one with the festive decor, or bind them outside where they can view the beautiful wintry weather!

treat your whumpees this christmas! if you want to.

[roblingoblin285]

Day 116: "You're making a mess" (Out of Their Element)

kitty burger, i know you're reading. just know you are the only reason i managed to finish this piece. (no, i did not proofread it, good luck)

“Rob? You look freezing, kiddo. What happened?”

“I hope you fucking freeze out there. Jesus, if I’d known how much trouble you’d be I would’ve left you out there in the first place.”

“Come inside, okay? You’re making a mess of your clothes with all that mud.”

“You’re making a fucking mess. Look at this floor, does this look clean to you? Does it?”

“Is that blood? Please look at me, Rob. Where are you hurt?”

“There’s blood all over the place. Hey, look at me, brat-”

Rob gasped, stumbling backward and tripping over the edge of the carpet. He went down hard and couldn’t help but cry out as the fall tore at his already-aggravated wounds, eyes watering. He could just make out Sage standing in front of him and talking, face full of concern, but he couldn’t hear the words over the sound of blood roaring in his ears.

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched violently, banging his head on the wall behind him. Pain rippled through the back of his skull and he whined, falling back to the floor in a heap.

“It’s alright! I’m sorry, kid, I really am. It’s just me.”

Rob blinked the tears from his eyes, realizing the hand was Sage’s. They were kneeling in front of him now, arms outstretched in a show of peace.

“Everything’s okay, sunshine,” they said quietly, “Just-”

Sage was nearly knocked into the opposite wall as Rob launched himself at them, curling his hands into their robe and sobbing into their chest. Sage recovered themselves quickly, wrapping their arms around the boy.

“There you go, kiddo. Easy now.” Sage scratched the nape of Rob’s neck, twirling his curly hair around their fingers soothingly. “Breathe for me, okay? Just one deep breath.”

Rob’s chest stuttered as he fought to obey, barely managing it before dissolving into tears once more. “I-I’m sorry,” he cried out, unsure what he was even apologizing for. “Please, s-sir-”

“None of that,” Sage said quickly, running their nails across his scalp. “Nothing to apologize for, sunshine. Just take it easy.”

Thank you for reading! Asks are always welcome about anything, and I appreciate your support! If you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist, please submit an ask or leave a reply. 365 writing challenge taglist: @stabby-nunchucks @whumpdreamz Fall From Grace + adjacent taglist: @thekittyburger

[weirdstrangeandawful]

TW: conditioned whumpee, master/servant dynamic

I don’t know how widespread the “teachers shouldn’t grade in red pen because it makes students feel bad” mentality is but, along with many other slightly-fucked-up-in-hindsight stuff, it was a huge thing where I grew up. So I’m thinking of Whumper indicating to Whumpee what sort of mood they’re in (i.e., how careful Whumpee should be today) with pen colours.

Something like:

Blue: Easygoing, maybe normal, day

Black: Serious. Maybe someone’s coming over or they really need to focus on something important.

Green: They’re in a particularly good mood. Sort of playful. Not much can go wrong.

Purple: Feeling over the top. Whumper’s deserving of a treat.

Red: Absolutely nothing will be right today.

[bilightningwhumper]

@angstober 2024- Day 26; Persuasion

<<Previous . My Angstober 2024 Masterlist . Next>>

"Bruised Apple" Masterlist --- TNEI Tumblr Masterlist

Summary:

Excerpt for "Bruised Apple" (Snow White retelling) Juliana's attempt at rescuing a bird for a friend

Notes:

Characters: Juliana- Huntsman Darcy- Snow White Catriona Larson- Evil Stepmother Rory (mentioned)- Prince Warnings: conditioned female whumpee, implied abuse

Ao3 link

Word count: 166

Juliana PoV

Once Catriona was gone, Juliana turned to the young woman, who had remained incredibly still where she knelt during the entire conversation. As quietly as she could, she whispered, “Your name is Darcy, right?”

No response. Not even a change in breath.

“Rory sent me. The company I work for, we can get you out of here. Your stepmother won’t ever hurt you again.”

Still nothing.

Knowing Mrs Larson could be back at any second, Juliana pulled out her business card from her breast pocket. Gently pushing it under Darcy’s hand, she murmured, “Just try to call me, if you can. Or next time you have a chance, sneak out and get to that address. We can help you, I promise.”

As she sat up, the Collector came back into the room and Juliana kept up the act, remaining civil for the rest of the visit. But she did notice out of the corner of her eye how Darcy’s fingers slowly, subtly, closed around the card.

TNEI Taglist:

@scoundrelwithboba

[lumpofwhump]

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Scalding

...AKA, more Lighthouse Whump

Whumpee abruptly jerked awake as his chair tilted under him, crashing backward onto the floor with enough force to make him bounce before his head hit the floor. Through his swimming vision, he saw Whumper standing over him, staring down with cold fury.

"I hope you enjoyed your rest," she spat. "Thanks to you, there's a shipwreck down on the rocks."

Whumpee's eyes went wide and his stomach dropped even further than it already had from the fall. "W-what? I'm… I'm sorry, I -"

Whumper bent down and yanked him up by his now long and unkempt hair, bringing him only inches from his face. "Do you think that matters to any of the people out there?"

He whimpered in pain and cringed before her fury. "No! I just - I couldn't help it! I, I can't…"

"Do you think I want to hear your excuses?" Whumper snapped, shaking him in her tight grasp by the head. This only added to his dizziness. "All you had to do is keep the light burning, and make sure the ships could see the rocks."

And clean, Whumpee thought resentfully. And mend your clothes. And fix anything that breaks. And…

"It really isn't much to ask for saving your life," Whumper continued, as if reading his thoughts. "And for not turning you over to Her Majesty's Navy." She let him fall to the floor again without warning, prompting a frantic yelp. "You wouldn't have stood a chance if you'd been transported."

He looked down, knowing she was right.

"It's already midday. Go boil the water for lunch, and then we'll talk about how to make sure this won't happen again." Whumper's tone suggested that this conversation would not end well for him. He swallowed, beginning to shake despite his best efforts, but nodded and backed away toward the stairs to go down to the kitchen. He didn't dare turn his back on her, not when she was in this kind of mood.

Waiting for the water to boil just gave him time to think about what this "discussion" might end with. If he was lucky, he'd just be locked in his tiny room without meals for a few days while Whumper carried out his duties, if only to prove how expendable he really was if hi proved to be too much trouble. If he was unlucky…

His had ran over a cluster of scars on his shoulder from when she'd slammed him into a window hard enough to crack the glass. His room had never been particularly warm, but since then it had been too drafty for him to get a good night's sleep.

His shoulders tensed as he heard footsteps coming down the spiral staircase, and only then did he realize that the water had already reached a rapid boil.

Whumper entered with a look of disgust, shaking her head.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad this time, he tried to reassure himself. At least he hadn't burnt anything…

"Would you like soup or -" he started, but broke off as Whumper strode over and grasped him tightly by the arm and thrust his hand into the boiling water.

He had a long second before the pain hit to realize what had happened and dread how bad it was going to be. And then he started screaming.

He tried to wrench his hand out of the pot, but Whumper was stronger, holding his arm in place for one second, two seconds, three, four, five, as his skin started to blister grotesquely under the bubbles. Finally she let go, and he pulled his hand out, gasping as tears streamed down his face. He couldn't bear to make himself look at his hand, so instead his eyes involuntarily drifted over to Whumper. He whimpered at seeing that she was hardly less angry than she'd been a moment ago.

"The other one," she commanded, reaching out her own hand.

He shook his head with a sob and pulled away on quivering legs. "N-no, no please, Whumper, I can't. You know I need to… please…"

"What did I say about excuses?" she asked in a low, dangerous voice.

Still, Whumpee couldn't make himself move.

Whumper's eyes lit up in fury at his disobedience, and she grabbed for the pot, lifting it and preparing to throw its contents on Whumpee.

He cowered and scrambled away, but she continued toward him, backing him into a corner. He raised his trembling, as-yet-uninjured hand in self-defense and then surrender with a defeated whine. She gave him a stony glare and a long moment of anticipation before roughly dragging him and the pot both to the table and thrusting his hand into it as soon as she'd set it down.

This time there was no delay between the scalding and the screaming.

As soon as she let go of his arm, he pulled away sharply, so much so that he spilled the rest of the pot onto his legs. His sobs turned into still more shrieks of pain as the boiling water made contact with the ragged remains of his pants and shoes. His legs gave out under the shock of the pain, prompting yet another scream as his burns made contact with the floor.

Whumper watched him impassively, eventually shaking her head at this display. "Get up," she said contemptuously.

"B-but my hands…" he said weakly, only to be met with Whumper's narrowed eyes. He bit back another whimper as he put his burnt and bubbling hands to the floor up onto his blistered, reddened feet, stumbling forward and nearly collapsing.

"And get those off," she snapped, gesturing to his pants. "Because of your carelessness, they'll need to be replaced."

Whumpee sniffled and staggered off to his room to clumsily peel the pants off his scalded legs. For once,the cold wind blowing in through his broken window felt something like comfort.

That night, Whumpee pushed through the agony of every task, and for that matter every movement. Trimming the wicks. Keeping them lit. Cleaning the floors and windows till they were spotless on burning hands and knees. There were no ships to guide to safety that night, but Whumpee stayed awake all the same.

Next

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Taglist (Let me know if you want on or off):

@whumpsday @whither-wander-whump @skinofafish @badthingshappenbingo

[delicatewhumps]

If your whump is a servant:

Make them bring out very hot plates (plate by plate), then make them bring out insanely cold plates :33

(I have a bunch more if wanted)

- 🐾

ooooo this is a good one!

[whumpsoda]

are you up for a continuation

https://www.tumblr.com/whumpsoda/734400660214366208/i-raise-that-anon-who-raised-you-vampire-keeps?source=share

WOHEO Masterlist

This ask wasn’t super specific, so I kinda just went with whatever idea I had, which was just a sort of normal?? Day for these two. I also named them, whumpee 2 is now Nevan, and whumper 2 is Darius!! So thanks to the anon who gave me those names! :D

Taglist- @softvampirewhump

cw: hints of past abuse, vampire whumper, human whumpee, pet whump, brainwashing, servant whump,

———————————————————————

Nevan adjusted the platter by only a smidge, studying the set up with watchful eyes. An expensive bottle of wine sat atop, along with a pristine glass of which he had poured the delectable liquid into. With just a finger, he pushed it a sliver to the other side.

It had to be perfect.

Once as satisfied as he would get, he stood back to his feet and surveyed the whole room. Several plush blankets were draped over the couch in the chance they got cold, Darius’ foot rest was just where he liked it, and his beverage was just in arms reach. Nevan had even grabbed a handful of DVD’s from his master’s small collection, displaying them in a dainty fashion on the table, just so Darius could choose what they watched.

It had to be perfect.

His nerves rattling him, Nevan swiftly made a beeline for the nearest mirror- really the only one in the home- that was hidden in one of the storage rooms. 

Every room he passed he was tempted to check through just one last time, having to remind himself that he’d already done a total sweep of the house probably nine times. Not a speck of grime remained in the abode, but he had to be sure of it.

As he reached the oversized storage closet, Nevan stood at attention before the tall mirror rested on a pile of junk. He intently dissected his appearance in the reflection, picking apart every possible imperfection. Smoothing stray hairs, shifting his dainty collar, and practicing his eager smile, Nevan tried to maintain deep breaths. 

Master was hard to please. Almost irritatingly so. 

Almost.

Any slight flaw could infect his gorgeous face with disappointment, and bring bitterness to his soothing voice. Nevan just couldn’t take it! Tonight was so important, he couldn’t risk any idiotic mistake ruining it for them. He valued Darius’ happiness over all else, and he couldn’t help but wish to see the vampire enjoy himself.

Maybe tonight, if all went along with his meticulously crafted plan, Darius would even smile. Even just a little grin, and Nevan would melt on the spot. 

And maybe, just maybe, the two of them would have such a wonderful time, his master would even grant him an extra feeding!

But he couldn’t get his hopes up. Darius agreed to have a movie night with his thrall, probably a once in a lifetime chance, and it would be a wonderful gift as long as Nevan didn’t stupidly ruin it.

Then he heard it. The sing-song ringing, even while distant filled his ears and consumed his brain. His worries instantly washed away with the reverberation of Master, Master, Master! Nevan’s entire body calmed against his will, and robotically his hands folded neatly in front of his chest.

He quickly strode to the sound, getting louder and more pleasing as he neared. The thrall was led back to the living room, where his Master had already made himself comfortable on the couch. Nevan stood before him, immaculately posed and made up, as Darius eyed him for just a moment.

“Are we doing this, or what?” He questioned, Nevan’s heart fluttering merely at the sound of his voice. Suprisingly, Darius’ words held no bitterness. Just calm.

“Yes! Y-yes, please. Master.” Nevan stumbled over his words for a moment, wincing at the sound. But Darius didn’t so much as scowl. 

His face remained the same. Neutral. “Sit then.” Darius was already studying the selection of movies, not granting his thrall a moment to digest his lack of irritation. 

Master must’ve had a good day.

A good day!

There was no other conclusion. Why else would he want to spend quality time with Nevan? His little blood bag? Good days for Darius happened so little Nevan could barely remember the last time he’d seen the vampire not on edge.

Lately though, there was just the slightest change. Nevan could only blame the slight lift of his master’s spirits on the more frequent company of another vampire, one he knew his master was exceedingly fond of. Nevan hoped they would see each other more often if it made his master even that much happier.

The vampire continued searching through the DVD’s, picking them up and putting them down, before holding one up for his thrall to read. “This one?” He questioned. The cover displayed some generic romance, and if Nevan had ever seen it in the time before he was a thrall, he surely didn’t remember.

Nevan stared back, wide eyed with no response. Was Master asking him? He had never done that before. He’d always said it himself that opinions weren’t in a thrall’s jurisdiction.

“Um,” Nevan swallowed thick saliva. “Whatever pleases you, Master.” That was an acceptable answer. It had to be. 

“Good.” Darius stated, to Nevan’s relief. He pushed the object to his thrall. “Set it up.” Eagerly, Nevan did exactly as commanded, while his master sipped on his drink and watched.

Once finished, Nevan carefully made his way back to the couch. Darius was lenient in that regard, most of the time allowing his thrall on the furniture. If he was ever in a mood where that behavior was unacceptable, Nevan would know. 

The thrall made a point to sit a comfortable deal away from the other man, as to not come off too presumptuous. He sat rigidly, making sure his form would be to Darius’ usual liking.

The movie droned on, filling the awkward silence, but Nevan could barely pay attention. He couldn’t stop himself from constantly glancing over at Darius, checking his expression for the slightest implication of annoyance.

The vampire kept his gaze glued to the screen, leaning back into the cushion behind him and taking a sip of his beverage every so often.

He looked simply magical.

“Wine.” Darius commanded, prompting Nevan to instantly rush to pour him more of the rich red. The vampire barely paid his pet any mind as the drink filled the glass between his fingers, splashing against the sides of the cup.

Once finished, he simply shooed Nevan back to his seat to resume his anxiousness.

Nevan needed to clean. Cleaning made him feel grounded and wanted, and cleaning made Master happy, so he needed to do it. He needed to clean, he needed to clean, he needed to clean, but he didn't want to. He wanted to watch the movie, he wanted to spend time with Master, but he couldn't help his endless fretting every passing second.

Nevan picked aggressively at the skin around his nails, an anxious habit his master hadn’t yet succeeded in breaking.

Darius must’ve noticed, as just a moment later his supple, icy hand begun stroking up and down his thrall’s agitated arm, shocking Nevan into stopping.

“You’ll ruin your nails.” He muttered passively, not even turning his gaze from the television.

Master was touching him. Not viciously or violently, like when Nevan needed to be punished, but soothingly. Even if the purpose of the contact was to keep his silly thrall from damaging his body, Master was practically petting him. 

The motion was repetitive and sweet, casting a wash of  contentment through him. Nevan could sense his breaths evening, and his posture softening. 

Master was so kind.

Any form of worry or discomfort was swept from his mind, leaving only the entrancement of the television’s glow. The noise of conversing actors and actresses were like a muffled buzz that desensitized him to the world around. 

After sitting in mindless contentment for however long, Darius began to slide a blanket from its folded spot on the couch’s back. Nevan almost offered to get it for him, before realizing the vampire would have most likely accused him of thinking he needed a feeble thrall to do everything for him. 

Darius unfolded it elegantly, before draping it across his slender legs. Nevan could simply see how fluffy and comfortable it was, and just a hint of jealousy sparked. 

“Come here.” The vampire’s words were sharp and powerful, cutting through Nevan’s haziness like a knife. The thrall stood instantly, making his way swiftly to his master’s side. “Down.”

Nevan dropped to his knees, gazing upward with puppy dog eyes. Darius didn’t even look back at him. Instead, his large hand sat at the back of Nevan’s head, brushing against his chilled neck. The pressure was firm yet gentle, and guided Nevan’s head into his leg.

Nevan’s breath hitched with each new touch to his flesh, particularly the feeling of plush skin on skin. The sensation was still so unfamiliar, but so nice he had no want to pull away. His cheek pressed up on Darius’ cotton pant leg, and he eagerly nuzzled into it like a kitten. 

Warmth built in his chest, drowning his mind in a pool of liquid pleasure as Darius lazily stroked his hair and scratched at his scalp. A hazy, purring mewl escaped his lips.

Nevan wrapped his toned arms around his owner’s leg, effectively hugging it in a tight embrace. He could practically feel the drumming of his heart, and each beat acted almost like a pulse of pleasure that ran through him.

Everything was so good, better than any time he could ever remember.

“I, um, I,” He stammered, tripping over the delight overtaking him and the fear of speaking. “I, I love you Master. I love you.” 

Fearfully, Nevan lifted his head to meet Darius piercing eyes. Thankfully, there was no evident anger in his expression. 

Just a smile.

Nevan could’ve vomited from excitement.

“As you should,” the vampire said. Master’s satisfaction alone could make his thrall’s entire week, but what he continued with could’ve destroyed Nevan then and there.

“Good boy.”

Darius barely ever praised him. He really didn’t need to, Nevan’s purpose was obedience, but his heart couldn’t help but soar when his master did.

A wide, dull eyed smile beamed across his face, and he cuddled even closer to Darius’ leg. “I love you. I love you Master, I love you, I love you.” The affection spilled from his mouth, an overwhelming need to express his adoration. 

Normally, Darius would’ve ignored him. Maybe called him an idiot. This time, he continued to just smile down at his human, tenderly petting his freshly washed hair.

Nevan couldn’t think of any other words to explain the overwhelming endearment he had for his master, most cognitive abilities seeped dry by Darius’ current touch, but the vampire didn’t seem to mind. “I love, love, love, you. I love you, I love you.” Nevan repeated, until the words jumbled together and became incoherent.

“Perfect.”

Even if tomorrow Darius would go right back to punishing him for the slightest of mistake without batting an eye, which he probably would, Nevan couldn’t help but bask greedily in the warmth of the moment.

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumpee kneeled off to the side of Whumper's feet, listening to their conversation on the phone. Whumper didn't seem to happy when they hung up.

Whumpee silently groaned. Hoping and praying they could just disappear, or Whumper would forget about them until they cooled down.

"Don't move, stay quiet", they told themself, "don't be noticed."

"Pet", Whumper sighed.

"Shit!", Whumpee yelled inwardly.

"Pet come here", Whumper laid down on the couch and snapped their finger.

Whumpee crawled to Whumper's hand and waited for the next command.

Whumper patted Whumpee's head, which came as a surprise to Whumpee. They were completely ready to get slapped or something.

"Jump up here and lay on top of me", Whumper commanded, "I need some deep pressure, that conversation upset me."

Whumpee climbed on top of Whumper. This was a new command, and Whumpee was terrified, not knowing where this was going.

"Ok, go ahead and lay on top of me. Your head can go on my chest, yep just like that", Whumper patted their head again.

Whumpee could feel themselves shaking in fear. They were lying on top of Whumper, and their head was resting on their chest.

"No need to be nervous. You're not in trouble", Whumper sighed, "I need some deep pressure. My weighted blanket is not heavy enough for what I need, so you are going to help me with that. Am I clear?"

"Yes master", Whumpee whispered trying to calm the shaking.

Whumper started to run their fingers through Whumpee's hair, and scratch and massage their scalp and neck. They even went as far as to massage and scratch under the collar.

Whumpee didn't want to admit it, but they would stay there forever if Whumper would keep doing this.

Whumper started to rub Whumpee's ears. They laughed a little when Whumpee moaned during the ear massage.

"I guess I know how to get you to melt into my hands", Whumper glanced down as they rubbed Whumpee's ears, "are you enjoying yourself?"

"Y-yes master", Whumpee sighed, "thankyou for your kindness and mercy."

"I've been thinking about doing this for a while, sometimes that blanket isn't enough", Whumper looked down again, "this is actually helping."

Whumpee relaxed their body.

"Oh yes this is definitely helping", Whumper smiled, "I guess you have a new use pet, weighted blanket 2.0."

Whumper started to get heavy eyed, as did Whumpee. Whumper's hand stilled while scratching under Whumpee's collar, so their fingers held onto it. Whumpee rested their cheek against Whumpers chest, and dozed off.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary