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#obedient whumpee
dinkflocculent · 2 months
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Creepy intimate whumpers make my heart go berserk <3
- Non-con kissing; grabbing their hair, shirt, horns, or head to pull them closer <3
- Non-con hugging; holding whumper as they squirm or violently shake <3
- Forcing whumpee for both of them to sleep in the same bed <3
- Whumpers who actually love whumpee (bonus if yandere) <3
- Physically-affectionate whumpers <3
- Whumpees who hate any form of intimacy; it is extremely unfortunate to be with whumper. <3
- Once physically affectionate whumpees conditioned to freak out when in intimate situations <3
I plan on having a whumper like this in a series; I just love them so much <33
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echoingalaxies · 9 months
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Content: self-punishment/injury, conditioned whumpee, trauma
Whumpee got up before dawn to prepare breakfast. For so long now, it had been their routine, something they'd gotten used to doing no matter their condition, no matter the amount of pain or exhaustion weighing them down. Coffee with two sugars, and three fried eggs, would have to be ready to be served precisely at 6, and Whumpee would carry them to Whumper's room where he would still be sleeping, wake him up, and stand there, head bowed, wait until he finished his meal and then take the dirty dishes to the sink.
The few times Whumpee had missed the 6 am mark, even by a couple of minutes, hadn't ended well. Whumpee ran their fingers over the scars they'd received for those mistakes, wide and raised under their shirt, as they waited for the food to cook. They kept glancing at the clock, anxiously, shivering at the thought of being late, but they also couldn't hurry too much because the punishment for undercooked eggs would be just as cruel.
At 5:58, Whumpee had everything set up, and taking the plate and the large mug of coffee in their hands, they started to head toward the stairs, moving slowly for their aching body. Whumpee had become really good at counting in their head, so they knew they were right on time, as they balanced the mug on the plate for a second to knock on Whumper's door.
They pushed the door open, flicked on the lights - so much brighter than Whumpee remembered... He hadn't changed the lightbulb, so had Whumper had to do it himself? How come hadn't he told Whumpee to do it? - and went next to his bed.
"Your breakfast, sir," they said, trying to sound chipper but gentle, humble and happy to be there. "Good morning, sir," they added quickly after, almost having forgotten the proper way of greeting. What has wrong with them today?
Whumper, usually waking up to their voice and demanding to have the food immediately, just pulled the duvet to his chin, face deep buried into pillows. He grunted something inaudible, and Whumpee was left standing there, unsure what to do.
"S-sir? It's morning, sir, time to rise. Are you feeling ill?"
"Shut up," Whumper growled, and his voice was odd, but Whumpee pressed their lips together tightly, afraid to make a sound. "What the fuck are you doing, it's so damn early..."
The plate and the mug were shaking in Whumpee's hands as they began to breathe heavily, panicking. They'd been on time, but they'd made a mistake. They'd made some kind of mistake. Whumper was upset, and oh, when he'd wake up, hell was awaiting for them...
"Please," Whumpee whispered. "I- I'm so sorry. So sorry, sir..."
After a few mess-ups, Whumper had introduced Whumpee to an alternative option when it came to punishments of slipping off schedule or not completing their tasks just as Whumper had told them to. Quicker, easier, and for Whumper, even more fun than getting to carve marks on Whumpee's skin.
He'd love to watch Whumpee be humiliated.
"I don't want to waste my time on you when I have better things to do," Whumper had once said. "Make it simpler for the both of us. You know when you mess up. Why not get the consequenses out of the way? Use whatever's available, as long as you clean up the blood."
Whumper was still under the covers, perhaps falling back to sleep. Whumpee was still confused by the situation, but it seemed like he should've somehow known to not bother him this morning, oh no, they'd done gravely wrong, and there was only two ways out...
And they'd made their choice which route to take.
Whumpee set the plate on the nightstand, and closed their eyes, when with trembling hands, they took the mug of still steaming coffee above their head and spilled it all over themselves. Even as cried out in agony, they kept reminding themselves whatever Whumper would have done to them would've been worse, and with any luck, this would be enough.
Whumper was once again woken up by Whumpee's cries, and bolted up from the bed like he'd been electrocuted. Whumpee felt a sting in their heart. Of course they'd want to watch. Why would they miss the show? Maybe they'd be unsatisfied with their pain and make Whumpee throw themselves down the stairs for good measure.
Whumper cursed loudly and grabbed Whumpee's arm, pulling them out of the room and to the nearest bathroom. He shoved Whumpee under the shower and turned it on, turning the temperature cold. He squeezed Whumpee's arms, shaking them lightly.
"Oh god, Whumpee, why would you do that? What were you thinking?"
Whumpee coughed, the water getting into their mouth. They shivered, from cold and from fear.
Another mistake.
Nothing made sense.
Why was whumper helping him? What was all of this?
Whumpee tried to pry themselves away from Whumper's grip and out of the shower, but Whumper held them still.
"I'm sorry, sir, I'm sorry -"
"Wait," he said, sounding concerned rather than angry now. "Oh shit, Whumpee, no, stop that. Look at me. I'm not him."
Whumpee did as they were told and raised their gaze to meet the eyes they expected to be gray and cruel, and was shocked to see hazel, and nothing but kindness.
"I'm not him," he repeated, and Whumpee blinked a few times, letting their eyes take in the rest of the person's face. "Everything is okay. You're home, remember? Safe."
The person had dark circles under their eyes. They had a friendly face, although right now, they wore a worried expression. Whumpee wiped water from their face to see better... their eyes must've been lying to them...
"I..." Whumpee begun, stammering. "S-sorry... I should've let you sleep... I didn't know... I'm sorry..."
"Whumpee, shh." The person reached to turn off the shower and then let go of them to grab a large, thick towel they spread on Whumpee's shoulders. "Don't, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realise it was you. You shouldn't even be walking! I thought it was Teammate just annoying me, I was barely awake, I didn't mean to be harsh towards you."
Whumpee pulled the towel around them, turning their head to look around. They knew this bathroom. They'd been patched up here many times before, years earlier. It was Caretaker's.
They looked at the person in front of them. They knew them. It was coming to them slowly, but they knew them better than anyone.
"Caretaker?"
They smiled. "Yeah. It's me. It's okay. You've been home for a few days now, remember?"
"I... guess."
Caretaker helped Whumpee out of their wet clothes and let them shower privately, washing the coffee off their hair and ease the pain in the burns on their scalp, their face, their shoulders.
When whumpee was ready, they opened the door to let Caretaker in once again. Caretaker sat them down on a little stool and started to treat their injuries, talking in a calming matter throughout the process. Whumpee was still feeling lost, his brain struggling to understand what was real and what was not.
"I'm still so sorry, Whumpee," Caretaker said, spreading something soothing over his burns. "I never should've allowed things to go so far that you'd do this to yourself."
"I didn't want you to hurt me," Whumpee said quietly. Caretaker stilled for a second, then continued rubbing the lotion on Whumpee's skin. Whumpee bit their cheeks. Caretaker, and everybody else, didn't know much about what he'd been through with Whumper. They hadn't had many opportunities to talk that much yet.
"I would never do that." Caretaker leaned in and pressed an unexpected kiss on Whumpee's forehead. Whumpee blushed, though they were grateful it probably was hidden by their already reddened face. No one had done that for... Whumpee didn't even know how long. "No one will ever hurt you here. And you never have to hurt yourself, okay?"
Whumpee wished they could keep that promise. But who was to say what happened this morning wouldn't happen again?
"Yeah," they said. Caretaker's touch was gentle and comforting, and Whumpee remembered them as a trustworthy person.
Only it all wasn't up to Caretaker.
And it wasn't up to Whumpee. They didn't decide to forget they were not living in that nightmare anymore.
But if things were to be like this, would they ever truly get out?
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astrowhump · 1 year
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“I’m yours right?”
“Hm?” Whumper’s eyes look up from their book and land on the trembling figure of whumpee in front of them. He looks…troubled.
“I-I-I mean I,um,belong to y-you…right master?” He’s fidgeting his fingers nervously, trying to find the right words.
“Ofcourse, whumpee. Where is this coming from?”
“S-s-so you’re not gonna leave me? O-or give me away to others?” He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears. Whumper sets the book aside and walks up to him to hold his blushing cheeks in their palms.
“I didn’t spend this long training my sweet pet just to give it away.”
A look of pure relief washes down whumpee’s face and his puppy-eyes pop out - the eyes he makes everytime he has something to ask and he wants to beg for it nicely.
“I promise, promise, I’ll be good. And obedient. I’ll be the best pet for you master a-and I’ll take whatever pain you, uh, give me like a good boy.” He sounds genuine. Whumper only smiles in response.
“Is this about last night?”
Whumpee averts his gaze, which means they were on point. They take his chin between their fingers and force him to make eye contact again. He nods his head shyly.
“I don’t appreciate how my friends exchange their pets either.”
“I-i-i-it’s just- they’re scary and it just seems like- like-“ whumper shushes him with a thumb on his lips before he could ramble on anymore.
“I just wanna be yours master.” He says in the cutest voice he’s ever made.
Whumper tugs at his collar, as if to make a point.
“You are. Mine. Forever.”
More like this
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sordayciega · 1 year
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Whumper likes making Whumpee flinch for no particular reason.
Seeing their anxiety levels spike without any real effort needed on Whumper’s part.
Whumper makes a quick, jolty movement toward Whumpee and the poor thing can’t help but flinch. A perfectly natural human reaction they can hardly control.
Whumpee’s breath catches and they hum out a small noise unintentionally. Their heart beat picks up and they lock eyes with Whumper while pursing their lips.
“Why are you so jumpy? I didn’t even do anything,” Whumper smiles.
The unspoken ‘yet’ was loud and clear.
Whumpee heaved in a shaky breath through their nose. It did nothing to stop the sweat that began to prickle down their back and the tears that began to well in their eyes.
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whumpee carries around a pocket knife because
whumper doesn't like getting blood on their hands
do you guys see what's going on here
a minor wrongdoing followed by whumper's cold
"Three."
and quick three flicks and whumper gets back to whatever they were doing
and there's blood trickling down whumpee's forearm
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whumpberry-cookie · 9 months
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Whumpee without self-respect but WITH some severe back pain.
(Cw: captivity, humiliation, dehumanisation)
(Wr): *knocks Whumpee down and puts their boot on their face* That's where your place is. On the floor.
(W) Can I have a request tho? Could you...eh.. step on my back instead?
(Wr) Oh? Well, you asked for it. *steps and puts their whole body weight into it, expecting Whumpee to squeal in pain*
*loud cracking sound*
(W) Ahh!! Yes, that's the stuff! Now between shoulder blades, my back's killing me.
(Wr) ...? I changed my mind. I don't want you. Get in the car, I'm dropping you out.
(W) What?! NO! I'M STAYING!
(Wr) I SAID GET IN THE CAR!
(W) Wait, I can be useful! I can be your carpet! Your doormat? YOUR TRAMPOLINE!! I CAN'T AFFORD A CHIROPRACTOR!
----------------------------
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mightaswell-whump · 6 months
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Thinking about a whumpee used as nothing more than a bedwarmer. Not a human. Just something to make sure the sleeper is suitably comfy
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dresden-syndrome · 20 days
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For the ask game:
Obedient/docile whumpee! The opposite of defiant whumpee.
Whumping in EESU: Obedient whumpee
Whumpee is walked to an interrogation room. They've never tried to fight the officers, resist the guards' grip or otherwise act out yet they're fully restrained every time they leave their cell. Whumpee dreams they won't have to wear them one day. EESU laws say no matter the behavior, restraints are a must.
Whumpee is on a detention medical check, silently hoping they won't be deemed fit for hard manual labor.
After several horrible interrogations, whumpee finally writes down their confession, watching their tears falling on the paper and mixing with fresh pen ink.
Test subject whumpee having to go through another long and invasive examination, staying still as the doctors bend, move and observe their body; they won't say it out loud but in their mind they've been begging for it to stop thousands of times.
Test subject whumpee watches themself being covered in restraints, unable to move at a cold medical table, hearing the researchers discuss the oncoming procedure. The sense of dread fills their body, the silent tears run down their face, unseen and unheard.
Labor camp whumpee, overworked and exhausted, struggling to move from muscle pain, silently carrying themselves to work in hopes of getting a shorter sentence or being eventually promoted.
Class 4 whumpee getting a gift for their compliance - a task to mop the floors within their allowed part of the facility. A menial chore for workers, a first opportunity to walk out of the cell for the subject; even in the tight leg cuffs, they're glad for that tiny piece of freedom they can get.
Whumpee starting to know more and more about their facility's work, see more things facilty workers do and hear conversations they have; in a state of horror and pain for their fellow subjects, unable to do anything about it, they feel utterly helpless.
Whumpee trying to cope with knowing the terrible things EESU government, such a fine system from the outside, has actually been doing all along.
Whumpee tries to brace themselves for resisting the guards or asking questions yet every time the facility guards open the cell door and call their new name, a four-digit ID number, all they can do is obediently walk to them as if they've been hypnotized.
"Personal property" whumpee finally standing still while their owner tightens their old collar again; they know how much pain they'll be in if they try to refuse.
Whumpee bringing food, drinks and requested loads of paperwork to their owner's table, looking confused, powerless and pathetic among the powerful, confident, relaxed high-rank officials gathered in their owner's office.
"Long live the European Communist Party! Long live the Supreme Commander! Long live EESU!", whumpee automatically repeats when asked to, almost unconsciously, as they learned from a long time of repetition, discipline and punishments.
Class 2 whumpee writting letters to their family every time they come home from work; their loved ones are so close but letters are the only way to keep in contact since they haven't received a permission to leave their labor commune yet.
Whumpee, a relatively innocent political convict, becoming conditioned to fully believe they are an enemy of the state and they deserve what it brings upon them.
[Masterpost link]
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gotta-whump-them-all · 11 months
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I'm on a roll here with my stupid whump memes!! (also my sister approves of these memes)
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whump-or-whatever · 11 months
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Whump Vignette #11
Contents: power dynamics, obedient whumpee, creepy whumper (sort of?), psychological whump, whumper has just acquired a new play thing
• • •
Whumpee sat very still on the edge of the bed. Their back was ramrod straight, hands folded neatly on their lap, head facing forward. The heat of anxiety was ever-present in their chest.
Whumper paced a steady beat back and forth across the floor in front of Whumpee. Each shoe fall was punctuated by a distinctive ‘tunk’ sound, which seemed to fill the room.
One, two, three, four—swivel—one, two, three, four…
Whumpee kept their eyes straight ahead, face expressionless. It was their way of showing that they were prepared to listen, to follow whatever orders they were given.
Their composed demeanour was little more than an act.
Every nerve ending in Whumpee’s body tingled with dread and anticipation. It burned its way from their cheeks, through their neck, across their shoulders and chest, all the way down their back to the base of their spine.
When the footsteps finally fell quiet, Whumpee had to stop themself from flinching, so loud was the silence. As the quietude stretched, they dared not move a muscle.
Then, the footsteps began again. They moved slower this time, growing ever closer. Whumpee’s vision, unfocused as it was, was overtaken by a dark shape. They stared unseeingly through it.
There were several moments of pause, during which Whumpee’s body coursed with adrenaline at the proximity of Whumper. The tone of Whumper’s voice was delicate but cold when they spoke at last.
“Look at me.”
As those three words entered the room, all air left it. Whumpee’s chest constricted as they fought the urge to shrink away from the command. It took a great deal of self-control to maintain their dispassionate comportment.
Ever so slowly, they raised their eyes. Whumpee’s gaze skated up the trail of buttons on Whumper’s jacket, reached their neck, then hesitated before meeting their eyes.
The angle at which the light fell across Whumper’s face painted it with shadows, giving them a near-demonic visage.
Whumpee shivered, eyes straining up through their lashes. They lifted their chin laboriously, as if it were weighted, until their neck strained. Whumpee looked up at Whumper with a lax jaw, brows raised in an expression of innocence.
They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. Whumper stared as if their sight were a knife which could whittle Whumpee down to their very soul. With each passing moment, Whumpee hunched a little further under the weight of Whumper’s scrutiny, gaining precious millimetres between them.
Finally, Whumper’s lip quirked. An unnerving grin bloomed across their face.
Whumpee felt their throat tense up, a twitch of their eye the only outward expression of their fear.
“Yes.” Whumper’s voice was smooth as silk. “You’ll do just fine.”
• • •
Fin
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dinkflocculent · 2 months
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A few years ago, I read a wonderful pet whump on Wattpad. Unfortunately, it was deleted, but gave me a great whumper idea.
- Whumper would use the clicking of their tongue for commands for whumpee. It would alert whumpee to stand up straight to their master.
- Whumper would show off their pet to guests, like they were a rare breed of dog they just adopted.
- Whumpee would be severely punished when making a sound—any sound—without being told to. If whumpee needs to sneeze or cough, they need to hold it in.
- When rescued, whumpee is conditioned, and it might take years for them to let it go partly.
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The whumpee plays along with the whumper’s game, staying as obedient and passive as possible so they can get close. Having to deal with the inevitable punishment would be worth it if they get to stab the whumper on the back the second they get close enough.
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astrowhump · 11 months
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Junior #4
flash back- a gloomy morning
TW: mentions of abuse, broken bones, blood, implied murder, stockholm syndrome, angst
[previous chapter]
“…are you okay?”
One harsh glance is enough to make Junior stammer.
“s-s-s-sorry m-m-as-ster-r…” his head droops down to avoid the angry gaze.
Alexander is in a gloomy mood today; he spent a good few minutes just staring out the kitchen window with an empty expression. Junior wrestled with himself for a while before he decided to speak up. It’s very unusual for Master to be grumpy so early in the day; he knows Alex is an early bird, religiously bound to his hour-long morning rituals. No, something special must be going on today.
Alexander is in no mood to be disturbed by the pesky pet; he considers gagging and locking him in the basement. But then he’d be bored out of his mind all day, he isn’t in the mood for that either. He weighs up his options. Finally, with an intentionally long sigh, he decides to open up. Afterall, why shouldn’t he? This boy will be dead and dumped in a landfill eventually.
“It’s my father’s death anniverssary today.”
Junior didn’t expect a soft tone out of that miffed face.
“Oh! I’m s-sorry m-master.” He gathers all his courage to put a reassuring hand on his master’s elbow. His right hand never lost the tremor even after his broken wrist healed.
Alex bursts into an unlooked-for fit of laughter, loud and terrifying. Junior immediately withdraws his hand, but his master doesn’t even notice, howling with laughter until he’s out of breath.
“Sorry? Oh no, little pet. Today is a jolly jolly day. It’s the anniverssary of the day I got rid of that good-for-nothing piece of garbage.”
He turns to face his boy and Junior’s eyes go wide. His master’s face has turned a bright shade of pink with how hard he’s smiling, like a child excited for a trip to Disneyland. It’s never good when Alex is excited.
“I think we should celebrate.”
Junior has a good guess what ‘celebrating’ translates into in his dictionary. He takes a step backwards, not really hoping to get away, but to delay the inevitable ‘celebration’ for as long as he can.
“You know he was the first person I ever took the life of. Well-deserved I’d say…”
Alex’s predator spirit is back, he backs the boy out of the kitchen step-by-step, into the living room.
“It was a beautiful sunny morning. I woke up to the sound of my mother screaming…that poor woman.” Something similar to sorrow takes over Alexander’s expression for an instant and disappears in the blink of an eye.
He keeps his eyes glued to Junior’s dilated pupils as he follows him, dragging out each step, fully certain that his boy has nowhere else to run to.
“I walked in on him beating my mother to shit right there in the living room, under our family photo…You could say my father wasn’t really a morning person.”
He pauses for a second, trying to recall everything in vivid detail.
“Do you know what I did, Junior?”
Junior only shakes his head no; internally scolding himself for asking, regretting every single choice he made today.
“Do you?” Alex shouts. His raspy voice, his creepy smile, how he slowly crouchs like a beast ready to hunt, and that hair-raising glint in his eyes; they all come together to force a stream of tears down his boy’s face.
“…n-n-no m-m-master…” he’s nearing the sofa, a dead end; he doesn’t want to know what happens when he runs out of room to get away.
“I grabbed the telephone…” he says as he reaches for the antique phone sitting uselessly on the coffee table. The back of junior’s knee hits the sofa.
The chase is over, here comes the pain.
“And I slammed it right into his disgusting head.” He swings the phone at the boy’s face and it lands right below his eye. Junior lets out a blood-curdling scream as he crashes to the ground.
“And I kept striking blow…” the phone hits the untouched side of Junior’s face and he feels his jaw crashing under the force.
“…after…” another hit to his broken cheekbone.
“…blow…” Junior hardly comprehends anymore; his vision starts going black, but not quite enough to stop the feeling of pain, just enough to make his eyes burn and his ears ring each time the handset bashes him in the face.
“…until his obnoxious fucking brain was all over the floor,” He says that with a prideful smile as he lands his final blow on the almost-unconscious bloodied mess on the floor. Junior yelps, not quite present enough to do much more, fractured skull sending wave after wave of pain through his nerves. He keeps his eyes shut, begs his brain to shut down and let go of this agonizing consciousness; but the ache keeps tapping on his window the second he starts drifting off, bringing him back to the present moment.
Alex’s smile slowly fades away as flashes from the past make him feel nostalgic. He places the blood-stained landline phone back in its place and collapses on the sofa right above where Junior lies sobbing.
The birds chirping ouside and the sunlight luminating the room is a delight to the captor and headache-inducing to his prisoner. It’s a beautiful day and blood is in the air, exactly as it was years ago.
“This just might be the best anniverssary I’ve spent so far. Stop ruining it with your annoying weeping.”
Junior doesn’t have an ounce of force in him to respond; he just lowers the volume of the whimpers to avoid getting on his master’s nerves.
“Come on now, Junior. It’s not that bad. Go clean yourself up.” He nudges at his side with his foot.
The boy tries, he puts all his energy into it but his brain is just too weak to order his limbs to move. He wants to sleep so bad. He rolls to his side and coughs out some of the blood that’s started pooling inside his mouth.
“Ah goddammit!” He stands and lifts the drowsy boy up by his arms, putting a firm hand behind his back to keep him still. Even though he’s obviously irritated, his touch is gentle.
“Man up, Junior.” It’s Alexander speaking, but those aren’t his words. Deep down, he’s just a cheap impersonation of his father.
He helps the boy toddle back to the kitchen and wash his face in the sink. The cool water helps soothe the constant burning in his jaw.
Junior’s head is still spinning. His fingers unclasp from the edge of the counter as his vision goes black. For just a second, he loses his balance; but to his dimay, he doesn’t crash to the floor, instead he lands on a warm chest and Alexander’s hands wrap around his shoulders. His tormentor holds him as he cries, lulling him into a sense of care, however false or temporary that might be.
“I’m sorry…sorry…” Junior whispers between his sobs as he sinks his face in his master’s shirt; too over-whelmed to know what he’s even sorry about.
“shhh it’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay…” Alex cooes in his hair as he presses soft kisses to the crown of his head.
Basking in the peaceful moment, they remain still, enjoying the warmth of each other’s embrace, for as long as it lasts.
taglist (tell me if you wanna be added) @ladygwennn @darkthingshappen @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @thelazywitchphotographer @horribleauthortm @angelwhump @hiding-in-the-shadows @oddsconvert @gala1981 @there-will-always-be-blood @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @whumperfully @pigeonwhumps @cc1010fox
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sordayciega · 1 year
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Sometimes I like a Whumpee who is immediately obedient to Whumper.
Whumpee is so submissive that they hardly fight back at all.
They may try to suggest Whumper not hurt them, but they never directly defy him. They may squirm if they’re touched, but never move from the spot they were told to stay in.
A Whumpee who puts actual effort into obeying Whumper right off the bat because it feels unnatural to do anything else.
After all, isn’t it obvious who is in charge here?
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pendarling · 7 months
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Electronic Devices
Whumpee stared at their screen blankly. The words loosely tied together created an eerie sense of comfort. They read it over and over again; still unable to believe it.
The text was written in thick black letters; asking them a single question on their laptop’s screen.
‘ARE YOU ALONE?’
They gazed a few minutes longer; small “yes” and “no” buttons appearing beside the words. They leaned onto their chair as it whined under their weight. Whumpee furrowed their brows still confused at the sight.
Their hair was soaked in water; a small towel wrapped around their shoulders caught each drop. Whumpee had been working for hours on this new project, and decided to take a short shower before heading to bed.
All they wanted to do was spend the day relaxing and finishing their job. It was hideous work to get through, but it made good money. The best thing about it was that 90% of their work didn’t require them to come into office. That was the hook that swept them in.
But right now, Whumpee had a regret come over them, an aching regret that asked them why they didn’t decide to work in groups instead of alone.
They were never good at making friends, but still… how did these curious words know?
Whumpee’s fingers couldn’t stop trembling as they leaned forward with wide eyes. A combinations of fear and the air seeping through the windows from a winter storm forced their teeth to slightly chatter.
It wasn’t just the fear of not knowing who sent the message that scared them. It was the sudden cold realization that Whumpee recalled they left their laptop with its lid down before taking a shower. If they didn’t, who else could have opened it again? What else were they blind to?
Whumpee finally snapped back into their senses and reached for their mouse. They pawed around the screen looking for an exit. Their other hand rapidly pressed the “escape” button in the hopes that something would happen. Yet, a single evidence of change didn’t appear at all.
Whumpee’s heart rate must’ve been loud enough to alert the computer to quickly switch questions. They watched it with ominous excitement as it typed out a new question.
‘ARE YOU SCARED?’
Goosebumps ran all over their skin.
“…What?” They whispered cautiously.
Without another moment, to answer this new question, the screen blinked again and another scramble of words appeared.
‘CHECK YOUR DOORS’
Whumpee quickly slammed the screen shut. Their mind helplessly venturing off to find a logical answer for this situation.
Their sensories grew stronger, and Whumpee couldn’t help but become keenly aware of everything surrounding them. They jumped out of their seat; eyes frantically searching the room for cameras. They bolted for the window and shut the curtains tightly, horror building up at the thought of being seen.
After tightly double checking all doors and windows in the small house, Whumpee sat on their couch, breathless.
The clock was just a little past midnight.
With a cold hand, they placed a palm onto their chest. Their heart rate was still running high, Whumpee’s body temperature had become a little bit warmer since coming out of the shower, but it wasn’t enough to keep them from getting a cold.
They stood up and turned on the tv, having some noise in the background would definitely keep them in check. That way they wouldn’t be so crazy anymore.
Whumpee skimmed their hand against the bottles and grabbed the pills they were looking for. Whatever insanity they were going through, a few medications could put down.
A low mumbling in the distance echoed down their hall and Whumpee walked slowly back inside their living room. Now satisfied and relaxed after a long day of work and hallucinations.
Maybe even a lack of sleep contributed to this unusual phenomenon. The entire idea of being stalked so carefully through a screen was too surreal.
They watched the reporter on the channel drag their hand behind a large map describing the worsening weather.
Yet, even though they tried to distract themselves all Whumpee could think about was the events that just occurred.
Were they not alone?
Click
The electricity died.
It was so out of the blue that it took Whumpee almost an entire ten seconds to process that the room was chillingly quiet. It sent them back into a state of panic.
Their heart rate began to shoot up forcing them to take deep breaths. “Relax, relax, relax…” They smoothed a thumb down their thighs, a calming gesture they’d learnt to do at young age. Whumpee peered into the empty rooms that they could no longer see, and hoped no creature would be stirred to life.
“It’s just the storm.” Whumpee closed their eyes; listening in on the noises of the rough snow etching marks on their window.
The tv buzzed back on.
Whumpee blinked again taking in the faint light they were now blanketed under. Hesitant eyes watched the screen flicker several times before familiar words returned.
‘RELAX’
This time Whumpee didn’t have an answer. They tightly gripped onto the edge of the couch. Knowing that there wasn’t a way to escape their virtual stalker.
“Why won’t you leave me alone?” They mumbled.
The screen turned pale again. The texting flashing off for several moments.
Whumpee swallowed dryly and bit their cheek when nothing happened for a long time.
“Who are you!?” They shouted this time, feeling a bit braver than before.
A response came faster this time.
‘A FRIEND’
~~~
MASTERLIST
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livelaughwhump · 11 months
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I think I finally realized why I prefer obedient whumpees to defiant whumpees
When defiant whumpees are punished, there's usually a reason. They lashed out at whumper, bit whumper, tried to escape, etc. So defiant whumpees arguably deserve the pain they're receiving
But when obedient whumpees are punished, it's just for the sake of hurting them. The whumper just likes it when they cry or likes hearing them scream or maybe they had a bad day and just need to take their anger out on something. Regardless, in most cases, it's not the whumpee's fault they're being hurt and there's nothing they could've done to stop it. They don't deserve anything that's happening to them, and yet it's happening anyway
I love it😈
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