#abused whumpee
June 17th- “Just keep looking at me. You’re doing great.”
Short and prolly doesn’t make sense but I’m not really in a writing mood rn so apologies
Cw: rough wound care, blood, injuries, improper wound care, makeshift medical things, uhhh manhandling, rough caretaker, uhhhhhhhh idk what else, woods setting?
Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut against the pain, a gasp slipping from their lips as Caretaker pressed the alcohol-soaked rag against the wound.
Caretaker looked up to them, eyes softening in pity as they offered Whumpee a strained smile.
“You’re doing good, honey, so good,” They reassured, their other hand pressing harder against Whumpee’s leg, keeping it still as they dabbed the cloth against the gash.
Whumpee hissed in pain, their fists tightening as their nails bit into their palms, barely holding back a scream.
The dirt covered, rocky ground dug into their skin, poking through the thick material of their gloves and pants. Blood pooled on the dead leaves, staining the earthy floor a deep red.
They cried out as Caretaker prodded the wound once more, a burning agony shooting up their thigh as they continued to clean the wound.
Caretaker grunted, pausing their work momentarily as Whumpee’s leg kicked and spasmed, leaning back so they wouldn’t get nailed in the face.
“Hey- hey darling I need you to stay still for me,” Their tone was getting impatient as they readjusted their grip on Whumpee’s leg. “Just keep looking at me, okay? You’re doing great.”
June 16th- Chase and Catch
Cw: running, chasing, exhaustion, uhh falling, tripping, tackling, noncon touching, pinning, blood, head injury, uhhh idk what else
Hero couldn’t stop running.
Their lungs burned and their limbs ached, and by god they couldn’t
fucking breathe,but they had to keep running.
They could feel their stamina dwindling, every last shred of energy leaking from their tired muscles until they felt like each stride was draining away at their very life’s core, but they couldn’t fucking stop.
For every step they seemed to take, Villain took two.
Hero darted through the alleyways, the heels of their boots clicking loudly against the asphalt as they dodged past trash bags and dumpsters, barely managing to avoid face planting. Their feet were long past numb, a dull and heavy sort of pain beginning to creep up their legs as blisters undoubtedly formed and popped along their heels.
They didn’t dare look behind them as they took a sharp turn, nearly skidding into a brick wall as they bolted down a smaller, hidden alleyway. The half a second the action would take would undoubtedly lead to their demise.
They could hear Villain, hear the sharp thumpsof their enemy’s footsteps, drawing closer to them with each breath. They could hear Villain’s labored breaths as if they were right next to them, breathing in their ear-
Oh god they were catching up-
A loud cry tore from Hero’s throat as a weight crashed into their back, sending them sprawling to the ground. Stars exploded in front of their vision as their jaw knocked hard against the pavement, blood instantly beginning to fill their mouth. They let out a low groan, squeezing their eyes shut as a rough hand grabbed them by the hair and quickly flipped them over, a broad figure straddling their hips.
Villain grinned, their eerily sharp teeth glinting in the streetlight.
“I caught you.” They whispered.
June 14th- Counting
Cw: kidnapping, torture, mentioned beating, illness, death mention, fear of death, cell, uhhh cold, idk what else to put here
Whumpee’s hand shook, their fingers flexing around the small piece of jagged stone as they raised it to the concrete wall.
A chill crept up their spine as a frigid breeze blew in from the barred window, goosebumps raising along Whumpee’s sickly skin. The rock slipped from their frail fingers, falling to the floor with a small clatter.
“Shh-hit,” They cursed quietly, head whipping around to the barred door. For a moment, they barely dared breathe as they listened close, praying to whatever force would listen that the guards didnt hear them.
The wardens were not very forgiving whenever a prisoner broke the rules.
Whumpee waited a few moments, their heart pounding as a terrible dread began to fill their chest. Oh god, if they heard- they’d be beaten for sure, whipped even- their body wouldn’t handle that- they couldn’t handle that. They were already sick, already weak. Another beating would be a death sentence-
A small breath of relief slipped from their lungs when they heard no disturbance, but the weight didn’t lift from their gut as they carefully palmed the stone once more, fingers wrapping around it so tightly their knuckles turned white.
Once again, they raised the rock to the cement, pressing the rough edge against the wall.
Ever so slowly, they began to drag their hand down, careful not to move too quickly for fear of giving themself away.
The scraping sound was barely audible, yet still much, much, much too loud.
Whumpee let out a small sigh, pulling the rock away from the wall and gently setting it down. Their eyes flicked over the tally, the newest scar added to the dozens upon dozens which already lined the walls.
Day one hundred and forty-eight.
They couldn’t help but wonder how many more they’d be able to survive.
June 13th- “Did I say you could stop?”
Cw: abuse, forced to clean, cruel Whumper, kicking, exhaustion, denied sleep, uhhhh idk what else
Whumpee blinked hard, trying to clear the fog from behind their gaze as they stared down intensely at the floor in front of them.
They stifled a small yawn as they dipped the rag back into the bucket, what had once been full of warm suds having long since turned into a cold mixture of dirt and cleaning products.
A moment later, they pulled the cloth back out, vision blurring as they began mindlessly scrubbing the tiles once more.
The tiles were beyond disgusting, coated in layers of dried blood and grime—most of it likely their own. They barely noticed as they’d hand slipped, already bruised knuckles scraping hard against the floor as they dragged the rag across a particularly difficult stain.
A twinge of pain shot through their fingers, but Whumpee didn’t react, much too exhausted to focus on anything other than the task at hand.
Whumper had said that only once they finished cleaning, would they finally be allowed to rest.
They had been working for hours, the minutes dragging by as they cleaned tile after tile, only taking a break every so often to refill the soiled bucket and switch out the rag.
Whumpee let out a surprised yelp, their arms giving out as a sharp kick to the ribs took them by surprise. They came crashing to the ground, chin knocking against the slate flooring as they landed.
Whumper glared down at them, their face twisting in disgust.
“I didn’t say you could stop, now, did I?” They hissed, drawing their leg back once again. For a moment, Whumpee could only grace themself for the incoming blow, their eyes squeezing shut. But instead, the toe of Whumper’s boot slammed into the bucket, knocking it over. The dirty water sloshed out, quickly soaking over the section Whumpee had just spent the last ninety minutes scrubbing.
“Get back to work.” Whumper rolled their eyes, spitting onto the floor before turning and stalking from the room.
Whumpee didn’t even have the energy to be annoyed as they slowly rose to their feet, picking up the bucket and stumbling back over to the sink.
June 11th- Forced to watch
Okay okay, I’m my defense I was camping. There was no service like, all day yesterday.
Cw: stabbing, threats, restraints, noncon touching, manhandling, forced to watch, death threats, knives, torture, gagging, hair pulling, uhhhhh bit more stabbing
Caretaker’s face twisted into a terrible fury as they let out a scream, their limbs thrashing against that which restrained them.
“WHUMPER- WHUMPER LET THEM GO I SWEAR TO GOD-” They yelled, tears of pure anger dripping down their jaw as they kicked and fought against the chains that kept them in place.
On the other side of the room, Whumper let out a frustrated sigh, their face twitching into a sneer as they roughly yanked the knife free from Whumpee’s thigh.
For a moment, a guttural scream drowned out Caretaker’s protests, before Whumpee broke down into sobs once again, curling in on themself on the cold floor.
“For god’s sake, shut them up already! I can’t fucking work like this!!” Whumper spat, throwing the bloodied dagger to the side.
Not a moment later, Caretaker’s yells were cut off as a guard shoved a dirty rag into their mouth, carelessly knotting around the back of their head, ripping out strands of their hair in the process.
Whumper rolled their eyes, their nostrils flaring as Caretaker continued to scream and thrash.
They stalked back across the room, grabbing the discarded knife from the floor before returning to Whumpee’s side. They grabbed a fistful of the later’s hair, forcing their head back as Whumper shoved the knife against Whumpee’s throat.
“Caretaker, shut the fuck up.” They growled, a bead of blood welling from where the knife dug into Whumpee’s neck. “I swear I’ll fucking slit their throat right now if I hear another fucking sound out of you-”
Caretaker’s eyes blew wide, a tear slipping down their flushed cheek as they quickly went quiet, clenching their jaw around the dirty rag. They could do nothing but twist their wrists against the chains that kept them bound to the chair, and watch as Whumpee sobbed and shrunk back from the blade.
“That’s much more like it,” Whumper spat, pulling the knife away from Whumpee’s neck.
Caretaker didn’t have a moment to relieve before Whumper thrust the blade into Whumpee’s shoulder.
June 10th- Rules
Shhhh pretend I posted this yesterday
Cw: whipping, broken glass, bleeding, restraints, rules, creepy whumper, blood, screaming, uhhhh captivity
Whumpee flinched, a small whimper slipping from their lips as the long braided tail of the whip cracked against the basement floor, the sharp sound echoing through the cold, dark room.
They squirmed, tears pricking their eyes as they tried to shift the weight off their knees.
Whumper had really planned ahead with all this, they realized with a terrible shudder.
The ropes around their wrists had been pre-tied, fastened around a rafter that crossed the ceiling. Below them, sharp bits of broken glass cut into their shins and knees, droplets of fresh and dried blood alike staining the ground.
“Pl-please,” They whimpered, squeezing their eyes shut as they braced themself.
Behind their back, Whumper let out a low growl, their fingers tightening around the whip’s handle.
“It seems we need to revisit your rules,” They seethed, anger burning behind their eyes as Whumpee trembled in anticipation.
“Ple- pl’se I- I’m sorry I- I didn’t mm-”
Their words broke into a scream as the whip cracked hard across their back, drawing a line of fire across their exposed skin. They crumpled forwards, a sob tearing from their throat as their wrists were pulled back, shoulders straining at the pressure.
“Rule number one, you speak only when spoken to.” Whumper hissed, drawing their arm back in preparation for another strike.
June 9th- ‘It’s okay, you could never hurt me.“
Cw: gore, blood, bear trap, failed escape attempt (ish?), rough caretaking, inexperienced caretaker, bit more gore, leg injury, improv medical care, idk what else to put here but be warned it’s gorey
A terrible agony seemed to swallow Whumpee’s leg whole, creeping up their thigh like fire, burning every nerve in its way. They grit their teeth, forcing themself quiet as Caretaker twisted the tourniquet a bit tighter, fastening it into place.
“Deep breaths, sweetheart,” Caretaker reminded, their eyes filled with worry as they glanced up at Whumpee’s teary eyes. “I- I promise I’ll be as careful as possible-”
Whumpee let out a gasp as their leg twitched, a whole new kind of hell crashing over them as they quickly turned their head away, dry heaving.
They couldn’t bare to look at the gruesome sight any longer.
Caretaker’s stomach twisted, blinking hard as they looked back down at the mess of flesh and bone.
The teeth of the bear trap were stuck deep in Whumpee’s shin, undoubtedly piercing the bone. Blood ran down their calf in a river of crimson, only now beginning to slow.
They had to look away as bile began to creep up the back of their throat.
Of course Whumper would fucking booby trap the woods.
Caretaker took a moment to steel their nerves, forcing their expression neutral as they turned back to Whumpee.
“I- I need to get the trap off,” They rushed to get out, stumbling over their words. “It- it’s going to hurt-”
Whumpee let out a dry sob, quickly shaking their head. “Nn- y..y’ could nn- n’ver hur- hurt mm.. me,” Their voice cracked, breaking into frantic cries as they quickly raised a hand to their mouth, biting down on their knuckles to keep quiet. “Jus- just dd- do it-”
Caretaker gave a stiff nod, taking a deep breath themself as they reached to grab the sides of the trap.
The second their hands touched the rusted metal, Whumpee let out a guttural scream.
“Shit-” Caretaker cursed, quickly yanking their hands back. “Fuck I’m so sorry-”
“Nn- no-” Whumpee sobbed, squeezing their eyes shut as they quickly shook their head. “Don- y’ have to jus- j’st do it.. qu-quick-”
“Okay, okay okay okay,” Caretaker cut them off, a surge of adrenaline passing through their body as they readied themself once again. “I’m sorry-”
In a quick movement, they grabbed onto the sides of the trap, grunting with the effort as they forced it open just enough for Whumpee to rip their leg out of.
The scream was loud enough to make the birds flee.
June 8th- Bedside vigil
Cw: coma(ish), unconscious, bruises, implied kidnapping, abuse
The darkness swallowed the room whole, seeping away at their warmth and hope until nothing was left within Caretaker but cold, dark fear.
The soft glow of the nightlight barely seemed to make a difference, illuminating a small circle of wall and floor around it, but nothing more.
The curtains were drawn tight over the shut window, yet the cold somehow still managed to slip in, chilling Caretaker to their bones.
With a shiver, they leaves forwards, grabbing the folded blanket off the foot of the bed and fanning it over Whumpee’s unconscious form.
If they were cold, Whumpee had to be freezing…
For a moment, caretaker paused, squinting through the darkness as they tried to make out the bruised features of their friend, but all they could see were layers of shadows upon a canvas of darkness.
With a sigh, they slumped forwards, arms falling to rest against the mattress as their head dropped.
They were nearing the three day mark. Three days since they had rescued Whumpee from that horrible, horrible place. Three days and they hadn’t woken up.
Caretaker wasn’t entirely sure when they had begun to drift off, but the next thing they knew they were jolting awake to a light knock on the door.
“Caretaker?” A soft voice called through the wood, as the knob jiggled and the door slowly swung open. “I brought you some food…”
“Thanks, Friend,” Caretaker sighed, wincing as they say up straight, their back cracking. They blinked a few times, clumsily rubbing the sleep from their eyes.
“Of course,” Friend smiled sadly, propping open the door with their foot as they stepped inside, flicking on the light with them. “Any change?”
Caretaker let out a small groan, squeezing their eyes shut against the sudden exposure.
They took a moment to adjust to the light, their eyes bloodshot and cloudy as they glanced over to Whumpee’s abused face, looking exactly the same as it had all those hours prior.
“Still asleep,” Caretaker mumbled, heart twisting as they smoothed the blankets over Whumpee’s chest.
June 7th- Experimentation
Cw: forced stripping (kinda—non sexual, just a shirt), noncon partial nudity, restraints, threats, noncon touching, implied noncon body mod, noncon surgery, lab whump, implied torture and kidnapping, threats, mentioned gore (not really)
Whumpee let out a strained cry, their pupils dilating as Whumper flicked on the bright O.R. lights. Their limbs moved on their own, twisting and thrashing against the restraints that kept them pinned to the operating table.
“WHUMPER- WHUMPER PLEASE-” They screamed, hot tears dribbling down their cheeks, craning their neck as they tried to see what their captor was doing.
Whumper’s movements were quick and calculated, almost mechanical as they moved around the frigid cold room. They didn’t bother to look up as they washed their hands in a plain sink, drying them on a sterile white towel, before slipping plain see-through medical scrubs over their typical outfit.
“Oh hush,” They sighed, surgical mask already pulled over their face as they slid their hands into a pair of latex gloves. “You’ll be fine.”
“NO- NONONO WHUMPER- PLEASE-” Whumpee’s eyes blew wide as they watched Whumper circle the room, picking up a tray of surgical instruments and carrying them closer.
“I said be quiet,” Whumper snapped, slamming the tray down on a stand closer to the table with much more force than necessary. Whumpee flinched at the clanging of metal. “Maybe I’ll cut your vocal chords while I’m at it, hm? That’ll sure teach you…”
Whumpee’s body went cold.
“NO-” They yelped, before quickly realizing their mistake and shutting their mouth. They instead shook their head, more tears welling in their eyes as they watched Whumper pick up a pair of metal shears.
“That’s much more like it,” Whumper grumbled, stepping forwards and grabbing the hem of Whumpee’s shirt.
Whumpee barely had time to panic before Whumper cut the tattered material clean down the center. A small sob slipped from their lips, the cold metal just grazing their skin as Whumper cut both the sleeves, and tore away the fabric.
Goosebumps pricked against Whumpee’s exposed skin, making them shudder as Whumper set down the scissors.
They watched anxiously as Whumper stepped away from the table, moving out of Whumper’s line of sight.
A few moments of tense waiting later, Whumpee jolted as an oxygen mask was pressed over their mouth and nose, the elastic band pulled back around their head and fastened in place.
“Now,” Whumper stepped back around into their sight, eyes creasing with a grin as they sauntered over to the tray of instruments, looking over them for a moment before picking up a wickedly sharp looking scalpel. “Where to begin?”
June 6th- Stumbling
Cw: kidnapped, restraints, bruises, broken bones, captivity, cells, blood, injuries, property destruction, bank robbing, bombs, medical neglect, rough wound care (mentioned), manhandling, noncon touching, broken nose, collapse
The world tilted around them, colors and sounds blurring together as Villain limped forwards, their muscles drawn stiff as they were escorted through the maze of halls.
Their hands were bound tight behind them, arms wrenched into an awkward position by the power inhibiting cuffs. Two guards, dressed in bleak grey uniforms flanked them, each with a grip on their arm forcing Villain forwards.
The stark lights of the compound burned Villain’s eyes, making them to squint in any attempts to see clearly. A sharp throb echoed through their skull, like a heartbeat in the back of their head, reminding them that they were still alive.
After the day they just had, it was easy to forget.
Their wounds ached terribly, undoubtedly fractured ribs constricting their lungs, stabbing pains shooting through their with each breath.
The heroes had seen it to them that they gotten “superficial treatment” on the transport back to base. All that had meant was some undertrained medic poorly setting their broken arm and binding it with dirty bandages.
They hadn’t bothered to take care of the deep gash above Villain’s eyebrow, that hours later was still dripping blood. Figures.
A small cry slipped from the captured criminal’s lips as their footing faltered and one of the guards wrenched them upright, jostling their broken arm. Hot tears sprang to Villain’s eyes as their vision went white, consciousness slipping away for half a moment before slamming them back to reality.
“OW-” Their voice cracked as they looked up to the supposed good-guy.
The guard rolled their eyes and let out a muttered “keep walking,” as they dragged Villain forwards.
It was so stupid.
Villain’s day had already been going shit, even before they were captured. Their coffee maker had broke first thing in the morning, then they had left their waffles for too long in the iron. They were out of milk, so they ended up having dry cereal for breakfast.
They were a criminal mastermind, Goddamn it! They shouldn’t be having dry fucking cereal for breakfast!!
The bank they had intended to rob didn’t have nearly as much cash as they expected, which they almost instantly blew off paying their debts and giving their henchmen paychecks.
Then, as if their day could get any worse, they cafe they went to for lunch was out of lettuce. How was Villain supposed to have a salad if there wasn’t any fucking lettuce?!
If the heroes had known how their morning was going, Villain was sure they would’ve been pardoned for blowing up the crummy old diner.
It was going to be torn down in a few weeks anyways! If anything, Villain had been doing the city a favor!
Butnooooo.
Hero went on a thirty minute rant about how that was a “serious offense” and “highly illegal” and- right when Villain was beginning to doze off, they attacked!
Villain scoffed, tripping over their own feet as the two guards dragged them further through the halls, entering a poorly lit, secluded corridor.
The walls were dark and made of concrete, a plain metal door every fifteen feet or so, secured with all sorts of different locks. On each, a number painted in plain white.
Four… six… eight…
The guards pulled them to an abrupt stop outside door eleven, holding them upright as Villain’s knees buckled. One of the guards pulled a ring of coppery keys from their back pocket, letting go of Villain’s arm for a moment as they fiddled with the locks, sticking a different key in each one and twisting, before finally undoing the deadbolt and pushing the door open.
The cell inside was small, a cold draft hitting Villain’s skin and making them shudder.
A yelp slipped from the criminal’s lips as the second guard shoved them forwards, tripping once more. With their hands bound, they could only twist midair, letting their shoulder take the blunt of the force as they promptly face planted into the cement.
The guard snickered.
“Make yourself comfortable, Villain,” The other guard laughed as they clumsily rolled to their side, blood beginning to gush from their nose as a terrible burning sensation swallowed their face. “It’ll be a while before Hero can see you.”
June 4th- Hostage
Cw: threats, noncon touching, restraining, bruises, kidnapping, hostage, creepy whumper
The coarse fibers of the rope dug into Whumpee’s skin, leaving dark bruises after hours of struggling.
The rag shoved in their mouth had soaked through with saliva, leaving a disgusting taste on their tongue. They had to fight back the urge to gag.
The room around then was poorly lit and cold, illuminated only by a bare, flickering lightbulb in the center of the ceiling, framed by exposed beams and wires. Off to the far end was a set of unfinished stairs, leading up to a closed—and certainly locked—door.
A basement, if they had to guess.
Whumpee didn’t know how long they were left to wait in silence, the only sounds being those of their own shaky breaths. The terror of having woken up restrained and alone in a strange place had faded to an anxious anticipation.
They feared the moment when they would no longer be by themself.
The last thing they remembered was going to sleep, safe in their own bed, tucked in after a nice tea and two melatonins.
Everything had been so peaceful.
A tear slipped down their cheek and Whumpee scoffed, though the sound never left their throat.
They would’ve never guessed that this was where they’d be, not a full day later. God, it was so fucking stupid-
Whumpee startled as the basement door slammed open, their breath hitching in fear as they quickly twisted, craning their neck so they could see the figure descending the stairs.
The stranger was dressed in dark clothes, a hoodie tossed over their head and a bandana covering the bottom half of their face.
Whumpee shuddered, their stomach dropping as they hear the sharp clicks of their kidnapper’s heels against the concrete floor. Click, click, click…
Whumper sighed, their lips twitching into a frown behind their mask.
“Shit, darling, I’m sorry,” They muttered, shaking their head as they stepped around in front of Whumpee, allowing them to see them without having to strain. “I told them to be gentle-”
Whumpee flinched back, whimpering as Whumper reached forwards to cup their chin. Their entire body stiffened as Whumper’s thumb slipped under the side of the gag, brushing over the fabric but not yet pulling it away. Their frown deepened as they noticed the bruise forming against Whumpee’s cheek.
Their eyes met Whumpee’s, glinting manically in the poor lighting.
“Things are gonna be real simple, darling,” Whumper whispered, their fingers brushing along Whumpee’s jaw. “I’m only going to keep you here until your dear little caretaker finishes their job, then you can go.”
Whumpee’s brows furrowed in confusion, tears brimming in their eyes. Caretaker? What did caretaker have to do with anything?!
“I have no reason to hurt you, sweetheart,” Whumper sighed, their eyes flicking down to the ropes that wound around Whumpee’s body. “Not unless you give me one.”
June 3rd- “Façade”
Cw: noncon touching, asphyxiation, strangling (ish), corsets, forced to dance, threats, manhandling
Whumpee wasn’t sure what was worse; the stifling hot air that filled the ballroom, so stuffy and humid they could barely breathe, or the god awful corset, laced way too tight around their midriff.
Sweat beaded on their forehead, hidden behind the dark veil of their mask, their shallow gasps of breath lost in the symphony of the orchestra.
Each breath just added to the unbearable pressure building in the depths of their chest, building and building until they couldn’t stand it.
The world around them spun and swayed in rhythm with the melody, Whumpee’s body no longer their own as they were twirled across the fine marble floors. Their feet barely grazing the ground, every last shred of their confidence focused solely on not tripping-
“Come on, darling, look alive,” Whumper whispered, their smooth voice slipping through the chords, loud enough for only Whumpee to hear. Under their deep scarlet mask of silk, only their eyes were visible, their dark irises glinting in the light of the chandelier.
Whumpee stumbled, a small whimper slipping from their lips as Whumper’s grip quickly tightened around their waist, keeping them upright.
“Remember, sweetheart,” Whumper’s voice dropped as they leaned in close, breath tickling hit against Whumpee’s ear.
“One little slip, and I’m make sure you regret it.”
May 31st- “Sir?”
[middle of nowhere | freezing | lighter]
Cw: accidental whump, cold, freezing, noncon touching, manhandling, slight guilt
“Oh darling,” Whumper sighed, a frown curling across their lips as they pressed their palm to Whumpee’s forehead. “You’re as cold as ice…”
Whumpee let out a small whimper, their fave scrunching as they nuzzled into the warm touch. Their body was barely trembling, every last bit of energy drained from their being
Whumper’s heart twisted.
Sure, they loved to watch Whumpee suffer, but this… this wasn’t intentional.
They felt… bad.
They felt bad for the poor, pathetic creature that squirmed under their touch, inching closer to the body heat radiating from Whumper’s skin.
They really hadn’t meant to leave the window open. They certainly wouldn’t have done so if they’d known a blizzard was coming.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Ehumper sighed, bundling Whumpee up in their arms and standing up. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
May 30th- “What are you doing?”
[car | last resort | alarm]
Cw: captivity, failed escape attempt, implied kidnapping
Whumpee’s gaze flitted around the living room, the whites of their eyes stark against the dark.
The room was lit only by the faint beams of moonlight that drifted through the cracks in the blinds, their surroundings blurring together into clumps of inky shadows.
A chill ran up Whumpee’s spine.
They shouldn’t be doing this.
There were so many ways this could go wrong, so many ways their plan could fail.
They had been working for months to earn Whumper’s trust, wearing them down enough until Whumper finally allowed them to sleep in the guest bedroom.
The lock had been much easier to pick than the ones in the basement.
They were so close.
Not twenty feet away, the front door, wooden frame barely distinguishable from the wall.
Whumpee barely dared to breathe as they tiptoed forwards, easing each footstep as to not make the floor creak.
In the silence of the house, any little sound would surely give them away.
Moving as slowly as possible, Whumpee reached forwards, slowly sliding the deadbolt out of place.
It seemed easy. Too easy. But in their haste to escape, Whumpee didn’t even think as they gripped onto the doorknob and twisted.
A blaring alarm shattered the silence, along with every last bit of Whumpee’s remaining hope.
May 29th- “Don’t make me”
[collared | cane | flinching]
Cw: collaring, intimidation, bruises, implied torture, kidnapping, abuse
The collar buckled around Whumpee’s neck pinched their skin, drawing a hiss of pain from their chapped lips with every little movement. The leather dug into their throat, fastened much tighter than necessary, making their breaths raspy and labored.
They flinched, every muscle in their body tensing as Whumper’s footsteps came to a halt behind them, so close Whumpee could feel their presence.
“What were the rules?”
Whumper’s voice was flat, tone unreadable. They didn’t move, didn’t say anything else. Just stood there, behind their trembling captive.
Whumpee opened their mouth to speak, not daring to turn around. Their voice cracked before they could even get a word out, breaking into a whimper.
“What were the rules?” Whumper repeated, their voice slightly quieter than before, which only seemed to unnerve Whumpee further.
“Nn..not t’ take- take it ‘ff..” Whumpee whispered, their voice bouncing back at them off the walls of the basement.
The collar seemed to pull tighter, itching at their skin.
“And what did you do?”
…
“I t-took it.. it ‘ff…”
