16th hour — #2 Marked
Masterlist/ Previous
CW: themes of captivity, violence, sexual assault(not detailed) , and dehumanization.
Samuel's consciousness flickered like a sputtering candle as he awoke in the dim, grim confines of the transport truck. His limbs felt leaden, the remnants of the sedative dulling his senses. The air was thick with a pungent mix of sweat and despair.
He wasn't alone. As his vision cleared, he saw others huddled in the cramped space, their faces reflecting the same horror and helplessness that he felt.
A stifled sob drew Samuel's attention to a girl about his age, her shoulders shaking with each breath. Her eyes were red and swollen, tears carving tracks down her grimy freckled cheeks. Across from her, a boy thrashed against his cuffs, his voice a raw scream of defiance and fury.
"Fuck this! Let me out, you bastards! You can't do this to us! We're people, not animals!" His words bounced off the metal walls, unanswered.
"You fucking bastards! Let me out! Let me out!" His shoulders pounded against the walls of the truck, the sound echoing in the confined space. "I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you all!"
In the opposite corner, another boy had a girl pinned against the side of the truck, his intentions horrifyingly clear. Her terrified whimpers and pleas for mercy filled the air. He wanted to move, to stop the atrocity, but his limbs felt like lead, the sedative still dulling his reflexes.
"N-No, please... don't..." she begged, her voice breaking.
The boy's eyes were wild, filled with a mix of panic and desire. "Shut up! We're nothing now anyways. Might as well enjoy myself for the last time."
Samuel's stomach churned with a mix of fear and revulsion. He forced himself to move, his voice a raspy whisper. "Don't."
The boy turned his head towards Samuel, his eyes narrowing in anger. "Stay out of this pretty boy."
The girl looked desperately at Samuel, tears going down her eyes. Desperation fueled his movements. He stumbled forward, his body protesting every step. He threw himself at the big-bodied boy, their bodies colliding in a tangle of limbs. They hit the floor hard, the impact jarring Samuel's already aching side.
The boy looked like he was about to punch Samuel if only his hands weren't cuffed behind him. The attacker snarled, his hands closing around Samuel's throat. "You should have stayed out of it, hero." His grip tightened, cutting off Samuel's air. Spots danced in his vision as he struggled, his hands clawing at the man's wrists.
Just when the other boy could take any other action, the truck lurched to a stop, throwing everyone off balance.
The doors swung open, blinding light flooding the space. Uniformed men began pulling the captives out one by one, their expressions devoid of compassion. The girl that was about to almost get raped by the boy mouthed a thank you though it seemed broken.
The outside world was a stark contrast to the darkness of the truck. They were in a large, enclosed compound, the high fences topped with barbed wire. The air was thick with the cries and shouts of other captives, a symphony of suffering.
He was lined up with the others, their fates hanging by a fragile thread. The compound was a cacophony of fear and confusion. Captives of all ages and backgrounds milled about, their expressions a mix of shock, anger, and hopelessness. The sobs of "I don't deserve to be here." and lifeless voices of "Why am I here...?"had filled the room.
A stern-looking man in a uniform walked down the line, his cold eyes assessing each captive with dispassionate precision. He was flanked by guards, their expressions as hard and unforgiving as the concrete beneath their feet.
"Why are you doing this to us?!!" A guy demanded, her voice shaking from anger and fear. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO US!!"
Somehow seeing this rose up the voices of other people, as they tried pushing and breaking the cuffs behind them. The middle-aged man simply hummed, before swishing his hand to a guard.
The uniformed man smiled looking over at the clipboard in his hand, but the smile was a cruel, empty expression. "You're 'L,'" he said, his tone filled with proffesionality.
Before he could respond, a guard stepped forward, a branding iron in his hand, its tip glowing red-hot. The boy screamed as the iron seared his flesh, the stench of burning skin filling the air. His cries echoed through the compound, a harrowing reminder of their new reality. The guy buckled to his knees with small sobs, unable to hold his weight any longer as some officers dragged him away. The branding had left a cruel "L" on his shoulder, marking him less than human.
The other captives recoiled in horror, the entire place filling with uncomfortable silence. Some were weeping openly, others staring in stunned silence. Samuel's heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. He knew his turn was coming, and the thought of that searing pain made his stomach churn with dread.
After a few torturing hours, his legs were basically throbbing with pain from standing for too long. The line had been going on, with the man marking with certain people as "L", "B" or "S", which was followed with agonizing screaming and crying that managed to send a flinch down Samuel's spine every time. He tried thinking about what they could've meant but every time he was interrupted by either shouting or the cracking of a taser when people became too violent.
"Step forward," the guard commanded, his eyes locking onto Samuel.
Samuel's legs felt like they were filled with lead, but he forced himself to move. He stumbled forward, his entire body trembling. The guard with the branding iron stepped up, the heat radiating from the iron making Samuel's skin prickle. The stout man looked at Samuel, and was just about to say something before Samuel cut him off.
"Can I ask something?" He blubbered out before he mentally slapped himself for thinking without speaking. The man only raised his eyebrow in question and signed his hand in a way as if to say 'go on.'
"I-Its just.. I-I thought the ones who were classified as livestock w-were the ones who were from lower class.." Samuel couldn't help but think how egoistic he must've sounded but right now that was the least of his worries.
"Samuel. Samuel Dawson. Son of Edward Dawson and Juli Wood. Mother passed away on your birth so your Father married Camila Fletcher. Your mother was classified as livestock." Samuel basically froze, his mind struggling to process what the man just said. He had been livestock by birth..?
The man simply smiled at Samuel, continuing with his now torturing claims. "Spotted many a time taking pity on livestock. Having arguments about livestock having rights. Secret letters to the government as well to consider dropping down the livestock system. My, my Mr. Dawson. And you ask why you're livestock."
The man laughed, though Samuel didn't think it was funny. "We cannot have anyone disrupting our system. It is the way it is and it will be as so in the future as well."
Before he could react, the man nodded and the guard pressed the branding iron against Samuel's shoulder. The pain was instantaneous and excruciating, a fiery agony that made him scream until his voice was raw. His vision blurred with tears, the world narrowing to the searing torment and the smell of his own burning flesh.
When the iron was pulled away, Samuel collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. He was dimly aware of the others being branded, their screams mingling with his own. The agony in his shoulder was overwhelming, a constant, burning reminder of his new status. He looked at his shoulder, and the disgusting sight of broken flesh and blood among a red covered "L" made him want to puke.
Just when he thought it was over, the man in the uniform frowned, looking at the mark on Samuel's shoulder. He gestured to another guard, who approached with a different branding iron, this one marked with an "S".
"No no nononno!!" Samuel tried backing away. What the fuck was going on?! He already got branded! Fuck he can't do this again!!
"There's been a mistake," the man said, his voice devoid of any hint of apology or compassion. "You're not an 'L.' You're a 'S'."
Samuel barely had time to comprehend the words before the second branding iron was heated. Unlike the first guard, this one moved more methodically, examining Samuel's shoulder for a spot not marred by the initial brand.
Before Samuel could react, the second branding iron pressed against a fresh part of his shoulder, the tip glowing with the same cruel heat. The second iron seared into his flesh with a new level of agony, the pain even more unbearable as the two brands burned into his skin. He screamed again, the sound raw and primal, tears streaming down his face as he felt his consciousness waver.
Samuel's vision swam with spots, the pain overwhelming his senses. When the iron was finally removed, he collapsed completely, his body unable to take any more. His mind drifted in and out of consciousness, snippets of conversation filtering through the haze of pain.
"Get him to the holding for 'S' class." He heard someone say, but he couldn't see who it was. The words were getting more distant or was it the people who were? There was a strange ringing in his ears and he could feel something cold dripping down his arm. He tried to lift his head, to see who was speaking, but his body felt heavy and unresponsive.
The coldness spread through his veins, numbing the agony, but leaving him disoriented and weak.
Samuel's breath came in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling with effort. His eyelids grew heavy, the world tilting dangerously around him. The voices of the guards and the other captives melted into a distant murmur, fading into the background like an elusive dream.
And then, with a final, desperate attempt to stay conscious, Samuel succumbed to the overwhelming exhaustion and pain. His body slumped forward, darkness swallowing him whole.
He had always been scared of the dark but this time he felt comfort in it. As if it was keeping it away from the troubles that seemed to keep mounting up on him.
Taglist: @anutz1234 @ash-reh @whumped-by-glitter @catnykit @morning-star-whump
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@demetercabingreen-thumb @noeul-whumpppssssss1234(let me know if you want to be added or removed <3)
Reblogs are appreciated :)
picture this: the entire team is captured, outnumbered and outmuscled, there are three people holding the strongest member down. the leader is forced onto their knees in front of the enemy leader, who ponders who to break first.
youngest's face blanches white as they meet eyes with whumper
leader and the eldest team members, who considered themselves somewhat of youngest's parental figures, lunge forward against their restraints, hurling curses and threats at whumper as they approach youngest like a predator cornering a small animal
"you leave them alone!"
over the rest of the team's outrage, leader turns out to be the most protective, cursing profusely without regard for the consequences
their previous image of being "the composed one" flying out the window with every word they spit in their blind fury
"touch her, and i will be the last thing you ever see."
more meaningful if leader and whumper are acquainted with each other
their most protective teammates try to protest, offering themselves up for torture instead, but leader orders them to stand down with gritted teeth or a sad smile
"what a good role model you are, [title]. wanna show your team how it's done? you should lead by example, after all." — whumper, probably
works especially well if youngest is usually the rowdy one/most troublesome according to leader
a weapon is placed in youngest's grip, heavy in their hands, guided to point at leader's chest
whumper closes their hands over youngest's, tightening their hold on the weapon as the youngest sobs, terrified out of their mind as whumper hushes them in mock soothing
“sh, sh, sh, don’t cry now… your [title]’s gonna have to pay for every teardrop, you know.”
leader reassures youngest with the softest voice they can muster:
"hey. hey, look at me. it's okay. you're gonna be okay. do as whumper says."
A trope I adore: not only a drugged Whumpee, but the act of drugging Whumpee.
Pinning Whumpee’s arm to the ground or a table, keeping them still enough to push the needle into their arm
Causing a sharp, sudden pain that makes Whumpee cry out, their mouth opened just long enough to shove a pill inside—then holding a hand over Whumpee’s nose and mouth until they swallow or suffocate
Forcing Whumpee to drink something they know is laced (or don’t)
Waving a strong chemical beneath an unconscious or exhausted Whumpee’s nose, and watching the effects hit their system almost immediately
Making Whumpee finish a suspiciously chalky meal
Restraining Whumpee and hooking them up to a constant drip of fluids meant to keep them docile. Bonus: Whumpee fighting tooth and nail to keep the needle from their arm because they know—once it’s in, there’s no chance to escape
Caretaker and Whumpee are hiding from Whumper’s forces. Whumpee can’t help moaning in pain and Caretaker keeps begging them in a whisper to be quiet.
“Gag me,” hisses Whumpee through gritted teeth. “I can't… can’t keep myself quiet, so gag me.”
Caretaker stares at them; they know that due to previous experiences Whumpee even finds holding something in their teeth because they don’t have enough hands to be triggering. “Are you sure?”
“As sure as I can be. Do it before I lose my nerve.”
When Jonah meets Vincent he is nothing but delighted - the handsome stranger takes him out on a date and even offers to help him get the job he’s always dreamt of. But what started as a little flirt soon becomes the worst experience of Jonah’s life…
cw for the story in general: abusive relationship, creepy/intimate whumper, mentions of and actual torture, non-con touching, drugging and references to past drug abuse
Keep reading
(tw: gun, death threat, brief gore mention, restraint, forced to hurt (restrain others), hostage whump)
“You.” Whumper gestures toward Whumpee with the barrel of their gun.
Whumpee glances over their shoulder at the other hostages.
“Yes you, idiot. Stand up.”
Whumpee keeps their hands raised as they take a shaky step forward.
Whumper tosses a package of zip ties at them. Whumpee catches it clumsily, almost dropping it with shaking fingers.
“Tie them all up.”
Whumpee’s eyes meet Caretakers. They give Whumpee an encouraging nod. Whumpee glances down at the plastic. They know Caretaker’s training is their best chance of getting out of here. Can they really doom everyone in here by restraining them?
Whumper cuts off their thoughts. “Make em tight - fuck it up and I’m blowing your brains across the wall.”
Whumpee flinches back, but takes one out of the package.
Whumpee tries to be sneaky. They loop the zip tie over Caretaker’s thumb before tightening it down over the visible wrist.
A gun clicks against the back of Whumpee’s head.
Whumper voice is soft in their ear. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Whumpee trembles “J-j-just what y-ou sai-”
“Fix it.”
Whumpee trembles, reluctantly pulling out another zip tie, puting it around Caretaker’s wrists. They cinch it tight with sweating fingers.
“Tighter”
“But it’s-”
“Tighter”
Whumpee flinches back, but snugs the zip tie tighter yet.
“More.”
Whumpee turns to them. “I can’t any more - it’s-”
“For fucks sake.” Whumper reaches around them, jerking the tail up and down until Caretaker hisses at the pain. It’s digging deep into the skin now.
Whumpee whispers harshly against their ear. “If you can’t learn to follow orders real fast, I’m not going to have a use for you.” The barrel grinds against their skull, bowing their head forward. “And guess what happens when I don’t have a use for you?”
Whumpee shivers, swallowing thickly. “I-I’ll be good. I can - I. I won’t do it again.”
“Good.” The barrel eases slightly. “Now keep going.”
.
(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @jadeocean46910 @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @lav-whumps @wormwriting @meowsikbox @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep )
cw: gagged whumpee, implied kidnapping, pet whump, intimate whumper
we all love whumpees screaming and begging but what about gagged whumpees tho
- whumpee being gagged in the middle of them screaming and they’re still desperately trying to scream / get their voice out until whumper forces them to shut up
- whumpee quietly whimpering under their gag as (intimate) whumper runs their hand through their hair
- whumpers putting muzzles on their pet whumpees
- that trope where whumpee is making a recording and suddenly they’re grabbed from behind, a hand goes over their mouth and they reach out for the camera as they’re dragged away (maybe the camera falls down and whumper picks it up to smile at it before the recording ends)
- whumper stuffing something in (defiant) whumpee's mouth only to have them bite down on whumper's fingers
- defiant whumpee who refuses to shut up even though they've been gagged
- stoic whumpee biting down on their gag to suppress a scream when whumper tortures them
nsfwhump under here (warning for noncon, bad caretaker) (18+ only pls)
- whumpee whimpering under their gag as whumper fucks them and it’s music to whumper’s ears
- drool leaking out from under ball gags 👌
- bad caretaker gagging them and having their way with them in a room so nobody hears them
- a gag that keeps their mouth open so they're forced to suck cock after cock
-The whumper grabbing them roughly by the chin and forcing them to look them in the eye
-Or pulling them closer so they can cut/burn/whatever them in just the right spot
-OR carefully turning their head so they can “admire” their work, and the whumpee is either too exhausted or too conditioned to resist despite their gentle touch
-Caretaker trying to turn a semiconscious whumpee’s head to look at a face wound, but they flinch away thinking it’s the whumper
-”Don’t look at them/it. Look at me. Just me. Focus on me and everything will be okay.”
-Caretaker telling a feverish whumpee who’s lying in bed to turn their head to the side so they can hold a cold compress to the back of their neck
-Or so they can clean a wound
y’all understand
Fair warning guys, this one is really long! I don’t know how it got this long, but it did.
The Whumptober prompt for this was Forced Mutism. I’d like to thank both @jinmukangwrites and @fidothefinch for being two enablers.
Characters: Jason & Damian, some minor Bruce and Dick
Words: 10,261
Summary:
“The little one will do.”
“No!” Jason cried, tugging at his restraints as he tried to push himself forward, “Leave him be! Whatever you’re doing, it’s me who’s been after you not him. He’s got nothing to do with this.”
The smile the man gave Jason sent chills down his spine, “Exactly.”
~
Jason pulled his legs a little closer to his body and tugged at the cuffs on his wrists again, trying for what felt like the millionth time to get his hand to squeeze through. He was pretty close, they hadn’t tightened them incredibly tight, and Jason thought that maybe if he dislocated his thumb or broke it he could maybe slip them off.
He gave up for the time being, letting his hands flop to the ground, the metal of the cuffs clinking against the concrete. Even if he could get them off and get out of this far too tiny closet, Jason had no idea where they were keeping Damian. The last thing he was doing was leaving here without his kid brother.
If there was anything Jason was confident in, it was that Robin was still alive, and probably just as fine as he was. The guys who’d grabbed them could have easily killed them when the fight had gone sideways, but instead they’d been tied up and dragged here, to some kind of processing plant, with Robin being dragged in one direction, and Jason another.
There were a couple things to take from this, one the men hadn’t really cared whether or not Jason knew where he was being taken, and they hadn’t bruised either of them up more than was necessary. Though, to be fair, in both their cases they’d fought tooth and nail, so that was almost a negligible fact.
Whatever was going on, Mr. Evil Bossman, AKA Barnes, had a plan for Red Hood and Robin, and while Jason didn’t like the idea of sitting around waiting, he liked the idea of causing trouble and getting Robin killed even less.
Keep reading
How do we feel about caretaker having to take whumpee prisoner because of opposing sides but they still look after them and the whumpee is like so scared and the ✨A N G S T✨
anon you have unlocked whump GOLD 🤩 I don’t vibe with every captivity scenario but this one ✨HITS ✨
the fear in caretaker’s eyes matches the fear in whumpee’s, and all they can do is whisper “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” under their breath as they lead them to their captors.
caretaker lightly holding whumpee’s arms behind their back: firm enough to look convincing but gently enough that it doesn’t hurt. still, they can feel whumpee trembling under their fingertips, knowing what comes next.
when whumpee is led away from caretaker, and casts one last terrified look over their shoulder, so scared and small-looking that caretaker feels their heart shattering.
caretaker watching helplessly as whumpee is brutally, mercilessly interrogated for answers caretaker knows they don’t have.
caretaker volunteers for night shift after night shift to guard whumpee. they’re woefully sleep deprived, but no one is hurting whumpee on their watch.
caretaker sneaks whumpee a little extra food and a blanket at night, after all the others have gone to sleep.
caretaker feels guilty af when they have to take the blanket back in the early morning hours before anyone wakes up - and it nearly crushes them when they see a sleeping whumpee curl up tighter as they try to retain the heat they’re losing.
caretaker finally stepping in to stop a particularly personal line of questioning: “no. stop. that’s enough.”
caretaker walks them back to their cell and secretly slips their hand into whumpee’s and gives it a squeeze. whumpee squeezes back, and caretaker doesn’t miss that whumpee holds it a beat too long before letting go.
caretaker fighting back tears as whumpee rocks themselves back and forth in the corner, singing softly to themselves. if only caretaker could just give them a hug-
THE GUILT CARETAKER FEELS THE WHOLE DANG TIME
when whumpee gets sick, and caretaker desperately tries to obtain any bit of medicine to help. when they bring what little they find, whumpee looks at them with such fevered gratitude that caretaker can hardly bear it.
that night, caretaker says to hell with the consequences and gets whumpee and themselves out of there.
whumpee’s so exhausted from the ordeal that caretaker has to carry them out in the dead of night.
let’s not forget the night they have to spend in the woods on their way to the safe house, caretaker curled around whumpee’s body to keep them warm.
when they reach the safe house, and caretaker refuses to leave whumpee’s side, nursing them back to health and staying with them around the clock.
when whumpee is finally out of the woods, a guilt-wracked caretaker collapses into whumpee, hands clutching the fabric of whumpee’s shirt, sobbing about how sorry they were.
“we should I have left sooner - I should have done more - I could’ve done something….”
whumpee swallows around the lump in their throat and tentatively strokes their caretaker’s back. “shhhh,” they whisper soothingly. “it’s alright. it wasn’t your fault. you did what you had to. and hey,” they smile weakly, thumbing the tears away from whumpee’s cheeks, “you got me out, didn’t you?”
caretaker nods, but they still don’t let go of whumpee for a long time after that. and whumpee doesn’t let go either.
As Whumpee is recovering, Caretaker notices that they always move both arms together and pick things up with both hands, as if part of them still thinks they’re wearing manacles.
| she/they | nvm i identify as a gremlin | surprisingly an adult | Hi, I am literally a little sly raccoon reading all the cool whump people write. If you’re one of those people, know that you’re so cool and talented you guys literally make my dayWARNING: This blog contains some NSFW content, please be careful <3
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