#conditioned whumpee
Caretaker gets protective when people start asking to see whumpee in recovery. They don’t know how they’ll react, seeing it took them days to learn how to enter their hospital room without frightening them.
So, caretaker writes out a list of rules. Just a few things, like no raised voices, no touching, no sudden movements, no loud noises, no questions, no reaching for them, keep a soft tone-
The list goes on, and on, and on.
Snacks are acceptable.
(So evil of me for my mind to go in this direction but…)
Whumpee finds the list. Finds it and thinks it’s for them. They’re not allowed to be noisy, probably not even if they’re in pain. They must go back to walking with feather-light steps and slow careful movements, never reaching for things that don’t belong to them.
Don’t touch Caretaker’s things, don’t make a mess, sound sweet and happy at all times.
Snacks, they find once they reach the end, are allowed. It’s a small gift, one they’ll be grateful for, but it’s so little compared to what they’ve had these past weeks. Caretaker must have grown so tired of them so suddenly to go to the effort of writing it down and leaving it pointedly for Whumpee to find. They hold back the tears and swallow it all down.
Caretaker didn’t even want to talk about it–probably expecting Whumpee would make a scene if they did– they just left a note for Whumpee to read, alone, and obey.
They’ll be better. They’ll be different. Caretaker will see… they’re worth keeping around. They promise to themself, they’ll make this all right, they’ll show they can learn.
Prompts used: Dialogue, Conditioned
Content Warnings: Contitioning, blade, blood, death
Continued from May 22nd’s prompt
“Do you need a break?” hummed Whumpee’s boss, wiping a knife on his jacket sleeve.
Whumpee’s raw fingers clattered over the keys of the keyboard, trying to keep up with what Whumper had said.
“No, sir, I don’t want to be the cog that fails,” he said, his voice monotone and flat despite the important smile on his lips. He didn’t look up, just carried on typing, willing his brain to remember what his boss dictated.
Whumper nodded. “What happens to the cogs that fail?”
“They are discarded and melted down, sir.” Whumpee’s eyes only flicked up from the computer screen as his colleague’s body thudded on the ground. A slight smile that his boss insisted on still there on the dead man’s lips. As it should be, Whumpee thought, his own smile securely on his.
“I knew I was right to hire you, Whumpee.”
@themerrywhumpofmay@painsandconfusion
Capitalism™ is the biggest whumper of them all
If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!
Prompts used: Dialogue, Passenger seat
Content Warnings: Conditioning, brainwashing/culty stuff implied, shouting, noncon touch, manhandling, bad caretaker/rescuer
A looked out of the window as the trees and bushes passed the car by in a blur. C was so far away now, and he didn’t know how he felt about that.
B switched on the radio, just adverts right now, advertising things A didn’t know existed with the number of years he had been with C.
“Do you want to choose?” asked B. “Don’t suppose C ever gave you a choice in those sort of things.”
A turned to look at B, scowling. “Don’t talk about C like that.”
B curled his lip and shook his head in confusion. “What do you mean? C was a fucking bastard, look what she did to you!” B exclaimed, gesturing to the bruises that littered A’s grimy skin. B turned back to face the road and flexed his fingers on the steering wheel.
A sunk into his seat and crossed his arms. “Turnaroundthecar,” he muttered under his breath.
B tilted his head. “Huh?”
“I want to go back home,” A mumbled.
Slamming the brakes, both A and B jolted in their seats. “What did you just say?” B growled, narrowing his eyes.
“I want to go home, turn around the car,” grunted A, picking at the car roof.
B grabbed A’s wrist. “That hell hole is not your fucking home,” spat B. “And stop messing with my car.” He flung A’s hand back onto his lap.
A squirmed for a second before trying to open the car door. “I want C to take me back!”
B caught A’s t-shirt collar and dragged him back from the door. “You. Are. Not. Going. Back.”
A struggled and kicked at the dashboard. “I want C, I need C, I want to be back with C!” A sobbed. He practically vibrated with terror, anger and sadness, his tatty shoes bouncing off the glovebox.
“You don’t fucking need her!” B yelled, shaking A. “You have me!”
A froze and sank back down into his seat and B looked down, gently letting go of A’s clothes. He paused a moment, moving his jaw back and forth.
“I’m all you need, A, I promise,” whispered B, before starting the car once again, the radio still talking of things A didn’t know existed.
@themerrywhumpofmay@painsandconfusion
This is very much out of the fire and into the frying pan, like its better but still going to be shit for whumpee
If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!
Prompts used: Dialogue, Reading
Content Warnings: Conditioning implied, sleep deprevation implied, self harm
“And so Beowolf…”
Caretaker looked over their tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses to Whumpee, his eyes open and wide, still alert but looking nowhere in particular. Caretaker shifted in their armchair, their teeth running over their lip in thought.
“It’s getting late, Whumpee,” they said, closing the book they had been reading to him.
Whumpee’s gaze remained unbroken. “Please carry on,” he said, far away.
“You need sleep,” Caretaker explained, easing themself up from the old armchair and taking off their glasses. “You’ve done so well so far, learning not to clean all the time. And now you need rest.”
Whumpee’s head snapped to look at Caretaker. “No,” he whispered, his eyes passing beyond Caretaker.
Shaking their head, Caretaker continued to the bookshelf and placed the book between a book of Arthurian legend and The Hobbit. Their hand lingered in the air, their finger hovering over the spine. Caretaker sighed, their whole body moving with their lungs.
“Another then,” said Whumpee, desperation entering his voice.
“No, Whumpee,” insisted Caretaker, looking back at Whumpee on the edge of the bed. They shook their head and let their arm slip into their trouser pocket. There, their hand played with the house key. “You need sleep.”
“I don’t!” Whumpee suddenly yelled, his arms gripping the bed, shaking with sudden anger. His face was red and pained as he shook his head.
Surprised at Whumpee’s anger, Caretaker pressed the point of the key into their palm. The door was locked, locked like Whumper’s front door always was. Caretaker kept their lips pressed together so as not to let out a whimper of pain.
“You need sleep, Whumpee,” Caretaker repeated as they felt the key dig into their hand. Their hand didn’t move though.
“No, I don’t,” Whumpee whispered softly. “That’s laziness.”
@themerrywhumpofmay@painsandconfusion
Today in I read and watched too much dark academia recently…
If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!
Making the McIntyre Toy
For@amonthofwhump Mafia Madness! Prompt: Rite of Passage/Initiation
Introducing you to Irish mob boss Rhys McIntyre and his pet Pumpkin, and their very dysfunctional relationship. These characters were first created in RP with @whumptakesthecake, so thank you, Alex!
Tagging a few people who might be interested: @painful-pooch @whumptakesthecake - let me know if you want to be added/removed!
CW: pet whump, BBU, lady whump, organized crime, heavily conditioned whumpee, derogatory language, stripping (nonsexual), gun in mouth, tattooing
***
Rhys runs his hand over the pet’s lower back. “Take your shirt off, Pumpkin,” he says in a low, growly voice. “Just the shirt.”
Pumpkin trembles under his touch, but undoes the buttons on her white shirt and pulls it off, folding it neatly.
Rhys takes the shirt from her and throws it into the corner of the dimly lit room, leaving the pet in nothing but a bra and navy blue pants. “Tonight, my pet will officially be allowed to take her place under my control as a McIntyre toy. She’ll receive our family crest.” His sharp Irish accent echoes off the walls and bounces back to him and the pet.
Pumpkin keeps her back straight and her chin up. She’s earned this. She’s fought for this. Her place as a McIntyre toy wasn’t just given like all those other pets. She deserves this.
hey nsfwhump-mania followers long time no see let’s talk about begging
begging is so great in nsfwhump scenarios
you got whumpee begging for it to stop
you got whumpee begging for it just to be over already, to get on with it
you got conditioned whumpee begging for whumper to touch them
you got caretaker begging whumper to take them instead of whumpee, and vice versa
you got whumpee begging whumper not to kill them and just fuck them instead (or the other way around)
lots of opportunities. add yours down below
I love these! A few more that come to mind:
whumpee begging for the assault to happen a different way (“please just use my mouth” or “I won’t fight you - just untie me, please, I can’t breathe like this” or “I’ll submit, but I can’t stop myself from struggling - please just tie me down”)
whumpee begging a future partner/caretaker to help them recreate parts of the abuse for potentially unhealthy repetition compulsion reasons (“are you gonna fuck me like you mean it or what?”) or for potentially healthy healing/processing reasons (“think I might need you to hold me down. can- can you do that for me?”)
whumpee begging for caretaker or other witnesses not to watch (“don’t look- fuck, please, god, caretaker, cover your eyes- ”)
whumpee begging for caretaker or other witnesses not to turn away (“caretaker, please, hold my hand - don’t let go - tell me when it’s over- ”)
whumpee begging for gentleness (“please - fuck, please, slow down, it hurts- ”)
whumpee begging for harshness (“this isn’t lovemaking - if you’re going to rape me, just fucking doit”)
whumpee being made to beg for the abuse so as to avoid a worse punishment (“please- fucking hell,please, no, only you- only want you- don’t- don’t share me- justwannabeyoursplease- ” or “fuck me, fuck me, please, not that, not that again, pleasegodIwantyoutofuckmeplease- ”)
@much-ado-about-whumping am inspired to add some of my own cause your angsts never fail to thrill me with whumperflies holy shit
- whumpee begging caretaker to “use” them because they’ve been conditioned to feel that’s their purpose
- whumpee begging to “serve” caretaker (or whumper or anyone, if they are conditioned and traumatized enough) as thanks for some mercy or kindness
- whumpee begging for sexual touch or contact because they just want to be soothed and think they have to pay a price for it with sex
- whumpee begging whumper (or caretaker) to let them “make it up to them” for a mistake
- whumpee begging whumper to use them, to please not abandon or get rid of them, because they can be useful for something
might add more later but that’s what I’ve got! <3
