Creepy Whumper - Blog Posts

Brutal whump idea:

A large ring pierced through Whumpee’s mouth, below their tongue and straight through their jaw. A chain hooked to that, and used to drag them around like on a leash, tugging whenever they’re moving too slow.

Not only the pain, but it works as a permanent gag. Maybe it goes through their tongue as well. They can’t speak right. They can’t eat. Any sound comes out as a pathetic whine. They can’t close their mouth, maybe their hands are bound behind them so they can do nothing about the blood and saliva dripping down their chin.

The only thing that matters is that they certainly won’t be mouthing off to Whumper again.

tw: drugging

a defiant whumpee trying to claw at whumper’s arms in protest as their body reacts to the sedative that was just injected into them. they can only muster aggravated, painful groans and whimpers as whumper cards a hand through their hair.

“shh, my love… don’t fight it,” they whisper, guiding their captive to lay back down.

You'll Need Your Strength

Whumping the Whumpers - Part Twenty

(tw: force-feeding, restraints, concussion, broken nose, beating, multiple whumpers, knife, creepy whumper, "good boy" used, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned whumper)

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Ethan nudged Elias with the toe of his shoe.

Nothing.

He sighed, pulling his foot back to kick his leg instead.

-A twitch-

One more time then,

Ethan pulled back again, punting Elias in the stomach.

His eyes flew open.

Theeeere we go.

Elias sputtered and choked, writhing back. His eyes were sparkling and prickled when they rolled up to meet Ethan’s.

Ethan smiled down at him. “Good morning sunshine. Glad to have you back.”

Elias’ trembling gave out as he clenched his fists behind his back - that probably hurt, they’d been like that 12 hours now. Nice.

Elias glared up at him.

Ethan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Save that shit for later - I brought you some food.” He held the small bowl of oatmeal up a bit lower - not that Elias could see inside. He probably didn’t want to see it anyway. It looked like shit.

Cooking aside, Ethan had just brought him food. Fucker should be grateful. Instead, Elias narrowed his eyes at Ethan.

That’s going to get old real fast, isn’t it?

“Get up.”

Elias didn’t move.

Ethan’s fingers twitched around the bowl. “You have ten seconds to get up on your knees before I put you there.”

Still didn’t move.

Fuckin- Ugh.

Screw the counting, he wasn’t going to count when Elias had no intention of complying. Ethan sank another kick into his stomach, only enjoying his sputtering for a moment before gripping his hair and wrenching him up onto his knees - so conveniently curled up under him after that kick.

Almost like he planned that. 

Elias started thrashing back, but it only settled him closer to his spot on the ground. 

Ethan kept a tight grip on his hair, twisting until Elias grunted when the bastard wouldn’t fucking hold still.

Ethan knelt in front of him, pulling his head back until he bared his teeth.

“Just hold still - be grateful I’m even feeding you.” He jerked again as Elias looked like he was working up some spit - that wouldn't be smart. Then again, Elias wasn’t the brightest knife in the shed. Fucker probably wouldn’t even know what was wrong with that sentence.

“I’d suggest you eat before I get bored. You don’t have to be well fed to bleed or scream.”

“It’s true, you really don’t,” Nate piped up. 

Elias’ eyes slid over Ethan’s shoulder - presumably to wherever Nate was lurking behind him. Ethan rolled his eyes. He glanced over his shoulder too.

“If you’re going to be here, at least be useful.”

Nate smiled. “If you want help, you’ll have to be a little more polite.”

Ethan’s hand unwound from Elias’ hair, turning to fully glare at Nate.

Nate raised his hands, laughing. “Fuck - fine - okay I’m coming.” He took his sweet time getting behind Elias, kneeling down as well and forcing his head back again. Elias damn-near squeaked that time. 

Ethan’s eyes shot to Nate’s hands, trying to figure out what he was…

Twisting- he saw the way Elias’ jaw was tipped - he’s twisting…forcing pressure down -not back, just down- on the angled vertebrate… Ethan’s lips pursed as he filed that trick away for later.

Ethan scooped up a half-spoonful of the oatmeal, holding it up to Elias.

“Open.”

Elias grit his teeth. “Fuck. Off.”

Ethan’s heart beat a little harder - hammering against his chest. It sent warm static tingling through him. 

He moved the spoon a bit closer. “Come on, you’re going to need your strength today.”

Then Elias started thrashing.

Joy.

Ethan gripped his jaw, squeezing until he wrenched it open. With Nate holding his head relatively still, Ethan scraped the spoon past his teeth and dropped most of the oatmeal inside.

He ripped the metal back out, cracking it along the teeth again because the motherfucker didn’t know how to open his mouth properly.

Ethan let go of his jaw. “There. Was that so fucking hard?”

Elias seemed to be chewin-

Nope. Spitting. It was spitting.

Ethan’s eyes dropped to the glob of chunky grey sludge on the floor - narrowly missing his leg. His gaze snapped back up to Elias. 

His tone darkened. “Alright, let’s try that again.”

Ethan started into the bow, skimming more mottled grain off the top - congealing now. His eyes dropped to the glob on the floor.

He promptly tapped the mouthful off the spoon, setting the bowl to the side and scooping the pieces off the floor instead.

He held them to Elias’ lips. “Open.”

Elias’ eyes flicked to the wet glob - shining from spit. He snarled at Ethan.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you made it gross.” Ethan gripped his jaw again, squeezing until the taught muscles gave way under his fingertips, cracking his mouth open. Elias tried to thrash, but Nate kept him still - one hand creeping around his throat. Ethan shoved the spoonful inside, clamping his jaw shut this time and holding it tight. Elias thrashed and grunted uselessly, trying to work the bite back out.

Nate’s mouth pressed behind Elias’ ear, whispering- “I’d swallow if I were you. There’s plenty of less dignified ways to force it down your throat.”

Too late, Ethan was already losing patience. He clamped his other hand down over Elias’ mouth. Unable to breathe through the broken nose, Elias started squirming almost immediately.

“Swallow and I’ll let you breathe.”

Elias was shuddering, head twitching in his attempt to throw them off of him. 

Ethan rolled his eyes. “This isn’t something you can win. Save your strength to scream nice and pretty later.”

Nate raised an eyebrow at him.

Ethan squinted back. “What?”

Nate shrugged. “Nope. Nothing. You keep doing what you’re doing.” He glanced down at Elias. “Still not budging, huh?” His hand gripped tighter around Elias’ throat, rubbing up and down.

Elias sputtered, swallowing under the sensation. 

“Aw, there you go,” Nate smirked. He pat Elias’ cheek roughly. “What a good boy.”

Ethan grimaced at Nate. “Okay, now you just made it weird.” He let up his grip, letting Elias suck in gasping breaths.

Nate ignored Elias’ noises. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was everything up until that socially acceptable?”

Elias cut in, trying to twist to look at Nate. Pissed. “Fuck- who even are you, man?”

Nate gave a polite smile that Elias could hardly see. “Friend of the family.”

“He doesn- he doesn’t have a family.”

Nate pursed his lips. “Long lost twin?”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed.

Nate tried again. “How about ‘high school crush’?” He was grinning again.

Elias just looked confused.

Ethan rolled his eyes, standing up. “Alright. I’m bored of this.” He planted a solid kick to Elias’ stomach before wandering off to set the bowl on the counter. 

Nate let go of Elias as he doubled over, coughing and wheezing at the impact. Elias looked up to Ethan, some concern breaking through the mask.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t give me that look. It’s not my fault you wanted to skip to the good part.” His fingers trailed over the rack of knives.

“Let’s get started, then.”

.

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FEBUWHUMP2022 DAY 8, ALT 7: BLINDFOLDED

@febuwhump

CWs: creepy/intimate whumper, vague noncon touching, stress position

Whumpee is scared.

They try not to show it, but trapped in complete darkness, not knowing where or when Whumper is going to touch them next...it's hard. It's impossible, really, to hold back the gasps that come each time the monster's fingers trail over their back, and then disappear.

And then run over their chest, and gone again.

And then slide along the inside of their thigh, and again, gone.

Their mouth is free, but they promised, they promised themselves they wouldn't beg, just minutes ago when they'd heard the door open...

"You're really something else," Whumper tells them, and that makes them whimper again, helplessly, because this can't be happening. Not really. One moment they were on their way to Caretaker's, the next—

They don't know. They were just here, blindfolded and confused. But surely Caretaker will come for them. They will.

Whumper's breath ghosts over Whumpee's neck, and they flinch, swinging forward a bit, all their weight forced up on their aching tip toes, the rope around their wrists keeping them above their head cracking on whatever it's attached to.

"Wh...what do you want?" they ask finally, when they've gotten as steady as they can again, trying not to sound as desperate as they are.

Whumper takes Whumpee's chin in their hand, and pulls them forward, far too close.

They chuckle softly, as Whumpee wiggles, off-balance, and quietly say, "You."

“Good morning, Whumpee.” Whumper walked into the room, letting the door fall closed behind them. Their hands were clasped behind their back in a businesslike fashion.

Whumpee shifted in the confines of their cage, short enough that they had to sit- or kneel, by Whumper’s demand- and suspended in the air at about waist height. They had been left there for long enough that they didn’t know how much time had passed. That being said, they were a little salty.

“Found the time to visit? I thought you were far too busy. I’m not getting in the way of your appointments, am I?” They reclined in their cage as much as they were able to, pretending like the bars didn’t dig into their back.

“Oh, don’t worry, I cleared my whole schedule. I want to take my time with you.”

“How considerate.” Whumpee took a deep breath and yawned, hopefully looking bored. “Sadly, something came up while you were away, and I actually have to cancel on you. I hope you can understand. Which way to the exit?”

“You talk too much.” Whumper frowned, though the lack of any actual anger sent red flags flooding through Whumpee. “Luckily, I have just the thing to break you of that.”

They unclasped their hands from behind their back, revealing a leather muzzle dangling from their fingers.

Whumpee slammed themselves as far away as possible. The cage swayed unsteadily on its chain. “Absolutely not- you are not putting that thing on me.”

Whumper took a step closer, eyes glinting as Whumpee shrank further into themselves. “Oh, doll, do you think it’s a choice you get to make? What have I told you?”

Whumpee swallowed heavily. “I belong to you. I exist to- to please you.”

Whumper hummed in agreement and reached out.

“But- but you said you like to hear me scream,” Whumpee said desperately. They cringed at the flimsy argument, hating themselves for it. Hating themselves for the warring inside of them between obedience and rebellion. Hating that they were considering obeying at all.

“Oh, I do.” Whumper grinned. “And believe me, I will make you scream soon enough. But today I want to see you obeying me, and to do that, I can’t have you talking back.”

Whumpee’s breath caught in their throat. As they stared at the piece of leather in Whumper’s hand, everything else seemed to fall away. They suddenly couldn’t gather much thought past the repetition of what it was, trying to make sense of it. It was a muzzle. A muzzle. Like you would put on a dog that bit someone. The thought of wearing one was humiliating and degrading and so very wrong.

Their vision blurred.

“Whumpee? You still with me?”

Fingers snapped in front of their nose. They jumped, flinching. Whumper laughed and ran a thumb over their face. Whumpee quivered under the intimate contact that held them at the edge of panic. The hand drew back, and they found themselves leaning forward after it for half a second, desperate for the small comfort it provided. They quickly stopped themselves and pulled back again.

Whumper clicked their tongue. “Don’t pull back, you were being so good. Sweet. Come here for me, so I can put this on you.”

“I- please. No,” they whispered. Their eyes ached from holding back tears. They tried to muster up some courage, to say something clever, but nothing came to mind. They were numb with fear. Somehow, wearing that muzzle seemed like accepting Whumper’s crazy notions. If they couldn’t actively argue with Whumper, how long would it be before they started to believe them?

“Don’t be difficult.”

“It’s not being difficult for me to- I’m not a dog! You can’t make me wear that!”

Whumper raised their eyebrows, unimpressed. “You belong to me, don’t you? I can make you do anything I want, and it’s time you learn that. It’s perfectly reasonable for me to keep my belongings in line. Now, come here.”

Whumper’s tone edged into dangerous territory- the voice they used when they were done with Whumpee’s disobedience, and it would be punished if it continued.

Whumpee ground their teeth together and leaned forward, inches from the front bars of their cage. Whumper’s hands slid through, holding the muzzle.

They tapped Whumpee’s chin. “Open up.”

Whumpee did, closing their eyes. The bit slid into their mouth, weighing heavily on their tongue and not letting their mouth close properly. The leather stretched tightly over their face, digging into their cheeks and pulling at their hair while it was fastened behind their head. It would leave red marks, if not bruises.

Through the leather they felt Whumper’s hand on their face again, running possessive lines over them. Whumpee opened their eyes, shuddering at the sight of Whumper’s adoring grin.

“Oh, that silence is beautiful. I thought I’d like the sight of you like this, but this… you’re just so precious, Whumpee. With your eyes all wide and scared. That little crease between your eyebrows. You can’t talk back to me, can’t defend yourself. I might just have to keep you like this.”

Whumpee’s heart wrenched. Their eyes pooled with tears that fell before they could do anything about it. The tension seeped out of their muscles, leaving them empty and numb and wracked with sobs.

Whumper sighed dreamily and crouched level with them, cupping Whumpee’s face in their hands.

“How lovely,” Whumper murmured to them, tilting their face upward. “I can’t wait to see you break for me.”

Whumpee sagged against the bars, limp and pliable in Whumper’s hands.

——-

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