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buildingcages · 1 year
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can i do an art request for burning/branding someone thank youuu
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buildingcages · 1 year
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buildingcages · 2 years
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"You poor thing," I mumble as I, the author who has full control over the narrative, put my characters through turmoil.
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buildingcages · 2 years
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I happened to see these sculptures by Daniele Accossato that felt quite whumpy and I thought some of y'all might enjoy them as well.
The scupture in the first image is called "Amore Rapito", the second and third are "Wrapped No2" and the last is "Angelo in Custodia".
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buildingcages · 2 years
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buildingcages · 2 years
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be gentle with your pets.
after their punishments, coo at them, wipe the blood off their face. massage their torn, flayed back or ice their bruised ribs.
tell them they took their punishment so well. that you won’t need to do this again, just so long as they’re good for you.
carry them to their dog bed. wipe away their tears that are now forming. tousle their sticky hair and tell them they just have to be a good pet, and you’ll be like this with them all the time.
they’ll be putty in your hands in no time.
be gentle with your pets.
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buildingcages · 2 years
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Constantly thinking about the scenario @hold-him-down and I dreamed up:
Where all incoming BBU/BBU-adjacent trainees with previous tattoos have to go through the excruciating process of having them forcibly removed.
Think about the pain. The possibility.
Normally those procedures are done in multiple sessions with FREQUENT breaks because the pain is so intense. But with these guys, they just strap them down and go for however long it takes. Could be hours. Could be a whole day. Who cares if they pass out or throw up, get a bucket and keep it moving, time is money.
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buildingcages · 2 years
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The most effective marketing strategy WRU has tried to date is just the text “remember that embarrassing thing you did when you were 14? We can help with that.” in white on a black background followed by the WRU logo
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buildingcages · 3 years
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Box Boy Prompt #1
“Do you hear that?” 
His coworker paused when asked, head tilting slightly to pick up the distant sound. Pounding. Quiet, but yet distinct. 
They searched the package warehouse, using the sound to guide them until they came upon a large wooden box. There was no shipping label, only the ripped remnants of what once was. A lost package. With pounding coming from inside. 
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buildingcages · 3 years
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the dry sob of a character being stopped mid-crawl, pinned. there was no chance of escaping by dragging themself along the ground, but still, their desperate hope has just been crushed. they aren’t strong enough to fight anymore, to run, to even argue for their freedom. this is the end of the line.
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buildingcages · 3 years
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WRU ACQUISITION TEMPLATE
Hey ho my beloved whump friends :3
I made a document template for all our sweet boxboy whumpees, so go ahead and have fun :D I would be super happy if you‘d tag me when you use it so I can take a peak ;3
The WRU logo was originally designed by the wonderful @endless-whump , I recreated their awesome design to use for the letterhead.
This is the google doc link:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1syvtct0iw4D-febBxqlgtk11Jz-N9MoJno1LgQOeBSU/edit?usp=sharing
Please guys make a work copy of this and don’t edit the original so everyone can have fun with this <3 <3
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buildingcages · 3 years
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Here’s a fact I know for Reasons: in most cases, superglue stays bonded to the skin for about 30 minutes depending on where it is. If, for example, your hands were glued together it would take about that long for them to come apart without taking off the skin. Lips are faster, closer to 10 minutes, which is just long enough to have a good think IMO. 
Consider: a superglue gag
A whumper armed only with Gorilla Glue and a lot of time
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buildingcages · 3 years
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33. Usefulness
CW: NSFW & Noncon mention, abuse mention, institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe
“No, that is not all right! That is, in fact, totally unacceptable. You have promised me the delivery and we have already agreed to accommodate your situation. Furthermore, we have already begun to advertise your products. What you are offering me now is not going to work.”
Silence.
“Yes. Please do that and get back to me as soon as possible. Thank you.”
Its mistress voice was so cold. It made the pet shiver, even though Coriander knew that the steely frost was not directed at the pet itself. It could hear her dialling a new number. ”Hi Carla, the bloody publishing house won’t deliver again! Yes, I know… yes, perhaps we could…”
The conversation faded into the background as Cory moved through the house. Miss Lydia was stressed. Work at the shop was hectic and there were so many things to arrange all the time. Those weeks she had taken off to care for this no-good pet probably didn’t help either… Even though Coriander tried to help out the best it could - and both Miss Lydia and Miss Carla praised it - it knew that they were too kind. It was slow and stupid and probably soon they would realise that they would be better off without it working there.
But pets had other uses, didn’t they? Coriander had for weeks been looking for an opportunity to prove how obedient and loyal a pet it was. Perhaps this was its chance?
It looked around the house. What would be suitable? Normally, it would always have had a cane, but Miss Lydia had thrown away the one that had been delivered by the WRU. She had thrown away the muzzle as well.
The pet lingered next to the poker in the fireplace. Perhaps..? But no, its mistress was a bit of a bleeding heart. She’d probably think that that was too much for a first time. Coriander snuck into her bedroom on its prowl through the house. There, inside her wardrobe. Perfect.
The leather belt was thin and light. It would leave beautiful, straight red lines all over the pets scarred back. Its mistress might enjoy that. It shuddered at the thought of the sharp, cutting pain, but clamped down the feeling. Pets needed to be useful to be kept. This was a good way to be useful.
Miss Lydia was sitting at her desk. Her face hidden in her hands. The pet kept the belt coiled behind its back as it quietly went and kneeled in front of her. Miss Lydia looked up and forced a smile. “Hi Cory, how are you doing?”
With a flourish, the pet presented the belt to her, holding it on upturned palms. She looked bewildered at it.
Oh right. Miss Lydia doesn’t know the first thing about owning a pet.
Coriander used to think that she was testing whether her pet knew the rules. Now, more and more, it realises that she is the one who needs to be taught.
“Miss Lydia, t-this pet has noticed that y-you are stressed.” It was so eager that it stumbled over the words. “This pet is here to help.” Appalled realisation had begun dawning over her face, but Cory pushed on. “Y-you can use this to hit your pet. M-most Masters do it and it is a healthy way to release stress and tension. Please, Miss Lydia, it is what this pet is for!”
She took the belt from the pet’s hands and it immediately begun pulling off its t-shirt. Miss Lydia stopped it with an outstretched hand.
“No. Wait.” The pet froze obediently in place. She opened a drawer in the desk, dropped the belt inside and closed the drawer. She took a deep breath.
“You are right that I am stressed. Thank you for noticing. But I will not hit you for it. It would not make me feel better. And even if it would make me feel better, it would be wrong to do so. Do you understand?” The pet looked helplessly back at her, it most certainly did not understand.
“B-but this is what pets are for.”
“It is definitely not what you are for. And Cory, I absolutely forbid you to offer anyone else to hit you, even if you think it might be good for them. That is an order. Do you understand that?”
“P-pet understands. Only mistress may hit this pet.”
She sighed. “That will do.”
Coriander fervently cast its thoughts about. This didn’t work. What else could it do? It steeled itself, but continued.
“Would Miss Lydia like to use this pet for sex?”
“Would I what?” She stared at him with startled brown eyes.
“T-this pet is not trained f-for it. But… but it has done it sometimes f-for previous master a-and mistress, a-and for other people. It… it could do it for you.”
“Oh Cory.” Pain and pity in her voice now. “I am so, so sorry that you had to go through that. But you and I will never have sex.”
Of course not.
“T-this pet is s-sorry for being so broken and u-ugly. Please forgive it, Miss Lydia. It - it was presumptuous.” It could feel tears in its eyes and lowered its head. Not even this was it good for.
“Oh, Cory. No!” She reached out and cupped its face in both of her hands, tilting its chin up to meet her eyes. “Listen to me. You are very handsome. If we had met in other circumstances, I would have been all over you. Honest.” She smiled. “And I am sure that there will be lots of other people in your future that will, if you want them to… But you and I could never have that kind of relationship, it would not be good for either of us. And besides, I can’t see you in that way.” She paused thoughtfully. “You could be my little brother, if you want?”
“Your little brother, Miss?”
She let go of its face and reached out to tousle its hair with a playful grin. “Yeah, I can totally see you like that. You should think about it, all right?”
The pet nodded, confused.
“I have a few things I need to finish up, so give me an hour. But if you want to join, we could go for a walk later?”
The pet left the room. Her little brother, huh? Its mistress was strange… but sweet. It guessed that meant she wanted to keep the pet around, anyway. Even if she didn’t want to use it like it should be used.
Tag list: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection
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buildingcages · 3 years
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Please please please can we see Joanne reacting to the Chris saves himself au???
The Chris Saves Himself AU: One | Two | Three
CW: Whumper POV, abusive family member, ableist, ableism, pet whump universe
Jo's sitting at an outdoor cafe, sipping a hot cup of fresh coffee while the ocean beats against the Hawaiian sand. She's waiting on her breakfast and has a book open in front of her she has yet to read.
The sky and the water are nearly the same blue. It's dazzling. She can't take her eyes off it.
She's here for work, helping with getting a newly-opened WRU Facility off the ground. There have been protests, of course - Hawaiians have protested WRU making inroads pretty viciously, and Jo is glad for the secret employee entrance she uses so that the residents of this place don't know who she works for. Still, WRU is paying for the extended-stay hotel and three meals a day, and her nephew's inheritance pays for the drinks.
She cuts the thought before his face can enter her mind.
She dreams about him slumped over, mumbling about how tired he was, sometimes. Once the sedatives kicked in, anyway. She'd been irritated the first round didn't seem to work, and then worried she'd accidentally overdosed him after the second.
But no. No, the Acquisitions team had assured her he would be considered in perfect condition. And her finder's fee and bonus had really emphasized that he was.
Whatever. That problem is solved.
Joanne sighs, wistful. There are already people in the water, even at dawn. She can hear laughter filtering up from the beach.
It's beautiful.
Ronnie would have loved Hawaii. They had always planned to go together, before their falling-out.
Too bad her fucking husband and stupid brat dragged her down with them. Too bad the husband was a shitheel Irish mob asshole, too bad Ronnie's son was a piece of fucking work, too bad the stupid bastard couldn't stay hidden the one time it counted...
Joanne sniffs and wipes at the corner of her eye. Grief is hard - it comes and goes. But at least Tristan isn't her problem any longer.
He's probably happy as a clam doing someone's fucking gardening somewhere. Joanne simply refuses to admit that isn't at all what he is likely to be used for. It doesn't matter.
What she doesn't know, she isn't legally responsible for.
Lost in her thoughts, Joanne doesn't notice the uniformed officers who enter the cafe behind her. She takes a photo of the morning sun as an officer holds up a photocopied piece of paper to the server behind the counter. She posts the phot to her Instagram with #islandliving is the life for me! as the server points her direction and the officer nods and thanks them for their help.
She has missed calls and texts on her phone, but she'll check those later. Jo never looks at her phone before 8 am anymore. It makes everything much more peaceful.
She sees the first couple likes trickle in as the officer speaks to his partner and the two of them head her direction.
"Joanne Botham?"
She's startled out of her thoughts by the officer's voice and looks up to blink at the woman, her straight black hair in a low ponytail and expression stern. Jo feels an instinctive beat of apprehension. "Yes, that's me. Can I help you, officer?"
The officer has an odd look to her. Not hostile, but... not friendly. "Joanne Botham, resides at 435 Janus Way, in Berras, California? Employed by WRU?"
Her heart beats faster and Jo sets her phone down. Then picks up her coffee. "Yes. Is something wrong with my house?"
"No. Do you recognize this individual?"
The officer holds up another printed out photo and Jo's stomach falls to her knees and firmly lodges there. She drops her coffee, mug shattering on the floor, ceramics and liquid everywhere. The officer doesn't even flinch.
It's her fucking nephew.
It's Tristan in a hospital bed, looks like, staring at the camera with wide uncomprehending eyes. His hair is shorter than it used to be, and there is a ring of bruising around his neck, more bruises littered over his collarbone and shoulders.
She has a sudden wild urge to say she's never seen him before. Instead, she swallows and repeats the story she's practiced over and over until she's sure she can pass any lie detector test. "Yes. That's my late sister's son, Tristan. He ran away after their deaths. I thought he was dead."
The officer doesn't argue, just nods. "I see. Well, Ms. Botham, what would you say if I told you that your nephew is alive?"
Jo looks carefully, believably surprised. "He is? Where did you find him? I looked everywhere I could think of!"
"Did you?" The way the officer asks the question tells Jo there is a piece of the puzzle she hasn't seen yet... and it won't be something she likes. "Well, you'll be relieved to hear he was found alive."
"Yes... yes, I am. Relieved."
She's furious.
That little shit is going to ruin her life all over again, isn't he? She'll set his inheritance on fire before she lets him see a dollar. WRU was supposed to make it so she never saw him again.
She should have kept him locked in his room and left him there.
"I'll fly back home right away to see him," She says, a distant ringing filling her mind. "Where is he?"
"Your nephew is receiving medical care. Let's head down to the station. I'll fill you in on the details when we get there."
"Well-... Of course, officer, but I need to call my workplace-"
"We are already in contact with WRU, Ms. Botham. They are aware that you will not be in to work today. A WRU representative will be at the station."
Joanne takes in a breath and slowly lets it out. "I... I need a lawyer, don't I?"
"That's up to you, ma'am. All we want to do is talk. Please come with me." The officer steps back and gestures. Joanne stands, and the beauty of the day is suddenly lost on her entirely.
"Am I being charged with something?" Her voice is faint, suddenly. She swallows hard. "Am I being-"
"The only charged so far are laid against Governor Oliver Branch, ma'am."
"Against who?"
"Ma'am. Please come with me." There's a hand on her elbow and Joanne stumbles along. At the counter, the server is taping this, streaming it live. Jo glances up at the television over in the corner ceiling to see a news anchor talking about a WRU-branded human pet falling out of a balcony at the California governor's mansion and the resulting scandal.
Joanne thinks of all those missed calls on her phone.
"They're blaming me, aren't they?" She asks, coming to a sudden stop on the sidewalk outside. "They're blaming me! I'm going to be the fall guy, right?"
"Get in the car, Ms. Botham," The officer says firmly. One hand moves to her hip. "We can discuss this at the station."
Joanne sees the server with their phone out, following. The stupid little ass is smiling. They think this is funny.
It occurs to Jo they knew who she worked for all along.
She turns and with wild eyes yells, "WRU knew! I did nothing wrong! They knew!"
She's going to need one hell of a lawyer.
She's going to need a miracle.
She suddenly wishes she hadn't spent so much of Tristan's money. She could've used it for her legal fees.
-
@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @what-a-whump @whumptywhumpdump @downriver914 @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @whumpfessional
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buildingcages · 3 years
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I’m on hiatus until my new job stops eating my brain, but hello! I will be back eventually
Hey, are there any other neurodivergent writers in the whump community?
If so, can I follow you and/or interact with your blog?
<3
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buildingcages · 3 years
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buildingcages · 3 years
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For mine:
- trainee 583299 was scammed by his business partner, leaving him holding the bag for a LOT of money that he and his close friends and family that helped him get started now owed to investors and obviously didn’t have to pay back. WRU offered to buy the debt and bail out his loved ones. The guy at his bank who referred him got a kickback. 
- Coral’s adoptive family fell on hard times right around the same time she turned 18 and told them she didn’t have to put up with their bullshit anymore and was cutting them out of her life. They sold her under the table. 
I’ve also been wanting to play more directly with the predatory lending angle. I can imagine for example a student going into college being offered a much more appealing loan with a better interest rate if they just sign themselves over as collateral.
How do people become box boys or box babes?? Confuses me every time
how does tjmaxx get people to open rewards credit cards? they're wiley, and they sit around and think about it a lot. for real though, here's a post with a good answer, which begins in that second paragraph that starts with "I'll begin with a brief overview"
@ashintheairlikesnow has a great "bbu worldbuilding" tag if you want to know more!
for my bbu story, my character Jamey was arrested at the tender age of 19 for a serious crime. he was offered prison time or signing himself over to wru. he did the latter out of general ignorance, hubris, and really shady legal counsel.
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