wisteria-whump:

i love when whumpee is being attacked and/or confronted by someone and their team, for whatever reason (not blowing their cover if they’re spies, not giving away their location if it’s a stealth mission, etc) just have to stand by and watch, but the second the threat is gone, they immediately rush over to whumpee.

Hawaii Five-O S03E06

By Request

genesissane:

“I’ll kill you,” X screamed as they were dragged away, “if you touch them, I’ll kill you.”

Y smiled and crouched in front of Z, who curled into themself.  “Now, what are we going to do with you?”  They asked softly.  Z couldn’t help the small whimper which escaped them.

whumppsee:

The choice game

(Tw: torture, betrayal, broken bones, forced to watch)

The rules are simple. Whumper gathers Leader and Whumpee in the same room. Every 20 minutes Leader gets to choose which one of them will be tortured next.

But what Whumpee doesn’t know, is it’s not a free choice at all. If Leader chooses Whumpee, then Whumpee gets whipped. If he chooses himself, Whumpee gets one of his bones broken. If he doesn’t choose at all or informs Whumpee about the game, Whumpee gets immadiatelly killed.

The only way to stop it is either by Whumpee’s death or by telling Whumper the information he wants.

From this place the ending can change depending on their personalities / how good relations Whumpee and Leader have.

—————

• Leader keeps choosing Whumpee to make him suffer less. But he can’t bare Whumpee’s heartbreaking crying for help. After multiple choices he breakes and begs Whumper to beat him instead. But rules are rules. Despite of Leader’s screams of protest, Whumpee’s leg gets broken.

(Works well when the Leader is also a Caretaker)

——————

• “I am not playing your games, Whumper”

“Oh, a reveal already? That’s a shame, you don’t really know how to have fun at all” He pulls Whumpee’s head back by his hair and exposes his neck. Presses the scalpel against his throat “Don’t look away now. It’s the consequence of your choice.”

Leader decides to not play at all. It’s a hard decision to make, but it’s the right one. He knows the instant death is a luxury while they are trapped by their torturer without any hope for escaping. There is nothing better than death waiting anyway.

Now it’s only on Leader to keep the informations safe and bare the interrogation alone. He showes he’s not the one to blackmail anyhow, because he’s ready to sacrifice it all.

———————

• Leader chooses himself right away to show Whumpee it’s a game. He doesn’t trust him enough to believe Whumpee wouldn’t spill the information while feeling betrayed. Also he won’t give Whumper the satisfaction of making them play by his rules.

“Looks like your precious Captain decided it’s worth to sacrifice your bones to make sure you shut up” Whumper laughts as the terror and realisation grows on Whumpee’s face. “Don’t worry, I will give you a choice too. Otherwise it wouldn’t be fair, right?” Whumper picks up a hammer from the corner of the room and then slowly approaches dragging it on the floor “Now, Whumpee. Your left leg or your right leg?”

———————-

• Leader trusts Whumpee and has Whumpee’s trust back. He’s completly calm about the information. The priority for Leader is to choose the less damage possible. So the interrogation keeps going with Whumpee being chosen over and over.

Whumper keeps on mocking Whumpee, while he’s sobbing and trembling in pain. “What’s that? Isn’t your Captain going to help you?” Whumper hitshim with a whip with all the strenght “Come on! Beg him or start talking! Beg him to help you!”

“Please sir! Please make it stop!”

“What do you say, Leader? Are you changing places?”

He doesn’t lift his eyes from the floor, as he responds coldly: “Continue”

***

After the interrogation ends / they get rescued, Whumpee confronts Leader first:

“I guessed it was arranged. I just thought I should play along to keep Whumper occupied for longer. Thank you for trusting me, sir”

————————

TW: noncon

The whumper regularly, publicly noncons the whumpee as entertainment for their friends and to incite jealousy and fear from their enemies.

The rescuer witnesses this while disguised in the crowd

A Test of Endurance

a commission written for @northofnowhere4

content warnings: whipping, blood, captivity, creepy whumper

(Character B: “Bee” and Character C: “Cee”)

—

Bee can’t take his eyes off his friend. Cee is strapped down to a metal table, gagged and sporting a black eye. It’s Bee’s fault they’re here. Cee came to rescue him, but Whumper caught them, and now his friend is in mortal danger and it’s all his fault.

“I’m so glad you decided to join us.” Whumper claps their hands together, pleased, and smiles down cordially at Cee. “You know what they say.” They ruffle Cee’s tousled hair, and Cee snarls behind the tape sealed over their mouth. “Two is better than one.”

Whumper turns then, redirecting all of their attention to their original captive. “Don’t you think so, Bee?”

Bee stiffens, tearing his eyes away from Cee and meeting his tormentor’s gaze.

“Let them go,” Bee whispers, tears already gathering in the corners of his wide, frightened eyes. “Please, let them go.”

Whumper’s smile broadens, and they approach their captive. Bee is shirtless, wearing nothing but the bloody shorts he’s worn for the entire duration of his imprisonment thus far, and his hands are bound above his head with coarse rope. He tugs uselessly on the restraints, wishing he could run over to his friend and protect them from whatever horrible plans Whumper surely has in store.

“Oh,Bee,” Whumper says, almost pityingly. “As much as I adore your pleading, we’ve already been over this. Your friend is going to be staying here with us. They came all this way for you, and you want to turn them away?” Whumper shakes their head, “I know I taught you better than that.”

Whumper moves closer, leaving hardly any space between them, and Bee swallows hard, thoroughly intimidated by his captor’s proximity.

“I’m sorry,” Bee says quickly, his voice rising in pitch. “I’m sorry, just please don’t—”

“You’regoing to be sorry,” Whumper corrects, tone suddenly harsh, and Bee flinches. His torturer leans forward, their lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “You’re going to be sorry you ever dared to wish for someone to take you from me.”

Bee shivers, every muscle tensed. He knows Whumper’s words are as much a promise as a threat.

“Here are the rules,” Whumper begins, signaling the start of what Bee assumes will be a horrible, twisted game. They grab his chin, forcing him to meet their eyes. “Listen carefully so you don’t fuck it up.”

Bee nods frantically, and Whumper, seemingly pleased, slips behind him and squeezes his cheeks, forcibly directing his gaze toward Cee.

“Now, see your little friend over there? Look above them.” They steer his gaze upward to a heavy stone slab suspended in the air, dangling from the ceiling. The rock is bundled in a net of rope, and Bee’s heart stops when he realizes it’s positioned directly above Cee’s legs.

All the breath leaves his body in a horrified exhale. “No.”

He can feel Whumper’s malicious grin. “I’ve rigged it up so you—” Whumper yanks Bee’s head back, their hand tangled in his hair, his neck strained. They guide his eyes to where the rope tied around his wrists connects to a pulley system, “—are the only thing keeping that thing in the air. If you fall to the floor, well…” Whumper lets go of Bee, and, with both hands now free, they smack their hands together in a gruesome representation of what will happen if the rock drops. “It’s a bit like pulling a pin from a grenade, if that helps you wrap your mind around it.”

Bee feels as if he’s going to be sick. He meets Cee’s eyes, and his friend stares back at him, their defiance apparent in the set of their jaw. They might not be afraid, but Bee… he knows a weight that heavy, falling from that high up, will destroy their legs.

Whumper snaps suddenly, looking as if they remembered something they’d almost forgotten. “Oh, and I’m going to whip you. Your back could use some more scars, and I’d like to show our guest what we get up to around here. You don’t mind, do you?”

Bee gapes at his captor wordlessly, stunned.

“I can’t do it,” Bee whimpers, already defeated. “Please don’t make me—it’ll kill them, I can’t—!”

“Of course you can,” Whumper reassures. “I believe in you.” They pinch his cheek a little too hard. “My resilient little Bee.”

“Ican’t!” Bee protests. Whumper steps away and heads toward their rack of instruments. “Please, I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt them!”

Whumper uncoils the single tail whip and slaps it against the cement floor. Bee flinches at the sound and the promise of pain, his breath speeding up as his tormentor circles him like a shark would its prey. Bee catches Cee’s eyes, and his friend gives him a little nod as if to say “it’s alright.”

“I won’t hurt them, Bee,” Whumper says conversationally, standing somewhere behind him where he can’t see. “You will.”

And without further preamble, the whip cracks against the bare skin of his back. Bee bites back a shout, jerking forward and arching his back in an instinctual attempt to escape the bite. He hardly has a second to react before the next blow comes, and the next, and the next. The strikes follow each other in quick succession, relentless. It’s mere minutes before Bee is trembling, his legs quivering violently, his wobbly knees threatening to give. He jolts and struggles, trying to escape the reach of the whip, barely containing his anguished yells behind grit teeth.

“Tired already?” Whumper taunts, pausing for a second. Bee can feel their breath on the back of his neck, and he winces when their nails scrape the welts forming across his shoulder blades. “You must not care for your friend very much.”

Bee grimaces. They have to be strong. For Cee.

Whumper chuckles and steps back, starting up again. They bring the whip down hard, the sound echoing throughout the room, louder than Bee’s suppressed wails and Cee’s muffled curses. He squeezes his eyes shut, his toes curling.

“You’re such a disappointment, you weak little thing.” Pain blossoms across his back and shoulders, and tears slip down his flushed cheeks. Whumper sounds euphoric. “C’mon, darling, scream for me.”

Bee, fully aware of his audience, tries his best to keep his reactions contained, but as the longer it goes on, the more his control starts to slip. Breathing heavily through his nose, he bites through his bottom lip, blood dribbling down his chin. Snot-nosed and gasping, he weeps openly. His back is onfire.

“Beautiful,” Whumper purrs. The whip curls over his shoulder, and Bee yelps. “But I told you to scream, Bee.”

Whumper doubles their efforts, and soon Bee feels the skin of his back split open, hot blood spilling forth. He’s so dizzy with pain that he doesn’t even realize he’s shrieking.

“Stop, stop! Please, please, I-I can’t, it hurts, I can’t!”

Whumper doesn’t let up. Bee wavers on his feet, screaming and begging for mercy, and then—

His legs give out, his willpower depleted. Despite his best efforts, he can’t withstand the torture. He sinks to his knees, his arms nearly yanked from their sockets as he drops to the floor. After the initial force of crumbling to the ground, the line of rope falls with him, no longer taut. Through the haze of tears and agony, Bee remembers that he was supposed to stay upright… but why?

His eyes fly open. Cee.

A bloodcurdling scream cuts through the air.

“My Toy” (Concept)

Tw: Nsfwhump, 18+ Theme, Non-Con, Forced To Watch, Free-Use, Pinning, Humiliation, Nudity mention.

× × ×

Whumper mercilessly fucking Whumpee for their personal pleasure in front of their henchman, or another Whumpee, or better yet, their caretaker.

Whumper softly praising them for being such a good little obedient toy.

Whumpee has no choice but to lay there, bent over Whumper’s desk stripped nude numbly with no emotion, staring into the other eyes, silently pleading for an escape from the tight grips of Whumpers hold, feeling each little movement. 

The intense feelings of humiliation and embarrassment flood their senses while hot tears burn the corners of their eyes and stain their reddened cheeks. 

Knowing that Whumper will only stop once they reach release, Whumpee will occasional whimper a soft moan or breathy gasp to help encourage them, though genuinely feeling disgusted with themselves during and after for doing so, but they always try to remember; It was only so Whumper would leave them and the other alone.

May 7th “Relax”

@themerrywhumpofmay

Okay, this one is a doozy and I’ve held onto it so that I could get to the cannon noncon first. It’s short, the noncon is only like two paragraphs and not detailed. (If you’ve been following cannon, that’s what I mean by detailed.) Heed the tags though for other Volkov horribleness.

This is my last Merry Whump of May post. I did them all! \o/ \o/ \o/ \o/

Comfort | Branded | Trembling 

Ben was sobbing and trembling with absolute terror.  He knew what was coming.  Volkov had tattooed him repeatedly during his first captivity.  Apparently, it was a Russian thing, that’s what Volkov had told him.  Ben had been having regular appointments to have the tattoos removed since he’d been rescued.  And now, stripped down to his underwear, bent over face down on a table, wrists tied together underneath the table, legs bound to the lower end of the legs, he knew there would be no removing this. 

Volkov had been furious when he’d seen the faded and disappearing tattoos when he’d taken Ben’s shirt off on the plane.  Ben’s ribs were still bruised from the beating he’d taken as a result. 

Ben glances helplessly to where Jake was bound on his knees, with his arms pulled up nearly vertical behind him and secured to a hook in the pillar.  There was blood still on Jake’s face and burns on his chest and abdomen from the electric baton they’d used on him.  His mouth was stretched around a black rubber ball as he screamed for his brother, screamed for them not to hurt him, screamed for them to hurt him instead.

Their eyes locked and they were both terrified for each other.  Ben had a ball in his mouth as well and he couldn’t do the one thing he wanted to do which was to reassure his brother that it was going to be okay.  Was it? a little scared voice asked inside his head. 

Volkov stroked his hair and Ben sucked in a gasp of air through his nose. 

“You tried to erase who you belong to, didn’t you?”

Ben whimpered and shook his head. 

“You’re mine.  Always.  You will always be mine.  And I’m going to make sure you remember that this time, Malyshka.” 

Ben dissolved into sobs again.  Dmitri approached and handed Volkov the glowing white metal.  Ben squealed in terror and doubled his struggles, forgetting temporarily that he was trying so hard to be strong for his brother, to not make it worse for him.  Volkov leaned over and kissed Ben’s spine, licking the spot between his shoulder blades where his mark would reside. 

Volkov straightened up and then he brought the branding iron close to Ben’s skin, letting him feel the heat, dragging out the terror on the boy’s face before pressing it into his skin.  Ben’s scream rose to a shriek of absolute agony. 

Jake screamed from where he knelt, barely even able to keep his head raised due to the strain on his shoulders from his stress position.  He would not look away though.  He wouldn’t leave his brother alone in this.  If all he could do was bear witness to what Volkov was doing to him then he would do it. 

It seemed like an eternity before Volkov pulled the brand away from Ben’s skin, leaving a stinking burned smell in the air and literal smoke rising up from the horrific mark on Ben’s flesh.  Ben’s body continued to quake and twitch while he screamed through the pain, eyes squeezed tight shut. 

Jake didn’t think it could get any worse.  But then Volkov did the unthinkable and tore off Ben’s boxers.  Ben screamed and thrashed, eye’s shooting open and his panicked gaze meeting Jake’s.  Jake held his gaze while Volkov prepared himself. 

Both brothers cried out when Volkov thrust roughly into Ben.  Jake watched powerless as Ben was brutally used.  Thankfully, Volkov didn’t last long, too aroused by what he’d just done.  He collapsed onto Ben’s back, hips still jerking as he finished himself inside of his captive. 

Ben lay utterly exhausted and in extreme pain.  Volkov pulled out of him and ran his fingers over the fresh brand on Ben’s back. 

“So beautiful, so fucking perfect, Malyshka.”

Ben’s eyes slipped closed and all he could do was breathe.  He was so tired.  He felt his restraints being loosened and then he was pulled off the table.  He let himself be dragged away, unable to even open his eyes and process where he was being taken.  He sank to the ground where he was dropped and passed out. 

*!*!*!*!*

Jake was finally released from the stress position he’d been held in for hours.  They’d taken another hour after taking Ben away to beat and shock him.  He was exhausted and in pain, but he forgot all that when they dumped him in a stone room with Ben. 

They dragged him to a wall and chained his wrists and ankles to make sure he couldn’t get away from the wall, but the chains were long enough that he could slip down to the floor.  He reached out and could just barely reach Ben, who was only chained by his wrists. 

He pulled on the chains, arms screaming with pain and dragged his brother’s limp body towards him.  He checked his pulse.  Thank God, he’s still breathing.  He pulled Ben to his bare chest and cradled his little brother against him. 

He was careful not to touch the fresh circular brand on the back of his shoulders.  The stylized letter V filling the middle of it.  Jake’s eyes flooded with tears as he took in the injuries up close.  He didn’t care how weak his body felt, he was going to hold on to Ben as long as he could.  He rocked him in his arms like he did when they were children.  He remembered being a precocious eight-year-old and having to sit very still when his mama put the tiny bundle of new baby in his arms. 

He’d promised he’d protect him, that he’d be a good big brother.  His tears dripped down into Ben’s head as he kissed his hair.  Chalk it up to one more fucking failure in his life. 

“I’m sorry.  I’m so fucking sorry…”

*!*!*!*!*

When Ben awoke, he was resting against a warm surface.  It was soft, but it moved.  Ben felt himself raising and lowering slightly, but every now and then it shook.  He could hear crying.  Someone had an arm around him and for a split second he thought it was Volkov.  But why would Volkov be crying?  He wouldn’t. 

Ben blinked his eyes open.  The room was dark, the warm surface beneath him moved slightly and Ben could hear chains rattle with the movement. 

“I’m so sorry.  I’m sorry.  Oh God am I sorry.  Please be okay.  Please.  Please. Please.”

Jake.  Ben moved his arms slowly, weakly, and wrapped them around his brother.  He felt his brother kiss the top of his head like he used to do when Ben was very small. He winced as the movement pulled at the fresh brand at the center of his shoulder blades. Volkov was such a fucking bastard.

“No’ your faul’, Jake,” Ben whispered.  “Ne’er your faul’,” he slurred, jaw still aching from the gag. 

Jake let out a small sob. 

“I… I love you, Jake.”

“Love you too, baby brother.”

Ben stayed pillowed on his brother’s chest, arms wrapped around each other for a long time.  Neither of them spoke; what was there to say?  They cried off and on, sometimes together, sometimes just one or the other, but neither of them broke contact.  They needed each other.  The truth was, any second here with Volkov could either be their last with the other, or their last moment alive. 

Both of them fell into a distraught slumber brought on by utter exhaustion, breath hitching even as they slept. 

befuddled-calico-whump:

“So let me get this straight,” A said through clenched teeth. “You want me to give up information that you’ll use to kill thousands of people, in exchange for onelife.”

Villain smiled down at them, their knife resting against B’s throat. “But not just any life, A. Your friend’s life. Will you really just stand by and let me kill them?”

A squared their shoulders. “To protect innocent people? Yes.”

“You’re a fool then. Give me what I want and you and your friend go free. You can run away to anywhere you’d like and forget. For once in your life, be selfish.” They increased pressure on the knife, drawing a choked noise from B. “Or do nothing, and watch them die.”

“Do it then,” A replied. “Kill them, and lose the only bargaining chip you have.”

“I suppose you make a fair point there.” Villain’s fingers twisted through B’s hair, yanking their head back with a sharp motion. “But I wonder. How long will it be before the sound of their screaming breaks you?”

YES YES YES YES

hllwbitch:

“I bet your Cuck Husband can’t fuck you like this, can he slut? Tell that loser who owns this married pussy now!”.. “Oh God no! Your pathetic little dick can’t compare to his baby! He’s sooooo much better! Fuck!!..My pussy belongs to you now Daddy! Uhhh Yes!!.. Make me your bitch in front of my wimp of a husband!! Show him how a real man fucks his wife!! Ohhh fuck yes!! ” ❤️

befuddled-calico-whump:

“So let me get this straight,” A said through clenched teeth. “You want me to give up information that you’ll use to kill thousands of people, in exchange for onelife.”

Villain smiled down at them, their knife resting against B’s throat. “But not just any life, A. Your friend’s life. Will you really just stand by and let me kill them?”

A squared their shoulders. “To protect innocent people? Yes.”

“You’re a fool then. Give me what I want and you and your friend go free. You can run away to anywhere you’d like and forget. For once in your life, be selfish.” They increased pressure on the knife, drawing a choked noise from B. “Or do nothing, and watch them die.”

“Do it then,” A replied. “Kill them, and lose the only bargaining chip you have.”

“I suppose you make a fair point there.” Villain’s fingers twisted through B’s hair, yanking their head back with a sharp motion. “But I wonder. How long will it be before the sound of their screaming breaks you?”

A White Rose (Pt. 9)

(This series is created using the prompts from @summer-of-whump)

Continued from here

@sparrowsage

CW: Noncon touching, dehumanization

Killian leaned back in his chair, listening apathetically to the ramblings of the others in the room. Sometimes he wondered why he even still bothered to show up at Nicholas’s house.

The door opened and Killian glanced over as the man with the wings came in. Shea— he had said that was his name— glanced towards Nicholas’s feet and then quickly away. Something seemed different about him… he seemed somehow even more timid than before.

“Shea.” Nicholas said and Shea flinched.

“Yes, sir?”

“Bring in some drinks.”

“Yes, sir.” Shea gave a slight nod and left the room again.

Killian watched him go.

“Killian.”

“Hm?” Killian directed his gaze to Nicholas, who had said his name.

“You like Shea?”

“He has nice wings.” Killian shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone with wings as black as his.”

Nicholas smiled. “Yeah. He is kind of fucking stupid though.”

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t ever do anything except for what he’s told to do. Otherwise he just sits in his room all day.”

“Doesn’t he ever try to push back if you tell him to do something he doesn’t want to?” Killian asked, feeling that he already knew the answer.

Nicholas laughed. “No! He’s too much of a fucking coward to do that! He never even asks me to stop if I do something he doesn’t like.”

Shea reentered the room with a tray of drinks. After he had passed them out, Nicholas called him over. Shea obeyed without hesitation.

Killian’s stomach turned as Nicholas stroked Shea’s wings, causing him to flinch violently each time. Killian felt even more ill as Nicholas pulled Shea to sit on his lap and Shea’s face paled drastically.

Most people didn’t view the Winged as humans— and maybe they weren't— but whatever species they belonged to was every bit as intelligent and relational as humans. Killian wished he could set them all at liberty.

Instead, however, Killian was forced to sit in this room and watch as this poor shell of a person was mocked and taken advantage of.

Despite obvious discomfort, Shea never once made any move to resist or push Nicholas away. Nicholas seemed to be getting frustrated by this and was becoming increasingly more invasive.

In the next hour of chatting that passed, Shea glanced at Killian once and immediately looked away when he saw that Killian was already looking. His eyes seemed to be pleading for help, but there was nothing Killian could do. If he said something, it would take away any chance Killian had of getting Shea out. So he had to watch.

After a while, Nicholas seemed to get bored with trying to elicit a response and sent Shea away.

“I’ll be right back.” Killian said a few minutes later, excusing himself.