can i get a whumpee in a straitjacket pls???? Thank you so much
Hi there! Coming right up! Thanks for choosing the Whump Drive Thru!
“Your latest escape attempt has irked me, to say the least,” Whumper drawled.
They approached Whumpee with something concealed behind their back.
“I do everything for you, give you all you could ever want,” they went on, “yet the moment my back is turned, you try to leave me. Why do you keep trying to leave me, Whumpee?”
The gag in Whumpee’s mouth kept them from answering, and the two agents holding them down on either side kept them from scuttling back in their chair. Whumper produced what they had been hiding from behind their back, and Whumpee visibly paled. A straitjacket, with buckles and straps going all the way down to the ankles rather than stopping at the waist. Without warning, Whumper and the two agents began to wrangle them into it, despite their muffled protests and pleas. By the time it was on, Whumpee had tears streaming down their face.
The agents zipped up the suit, and Whumper started to pull and buckle the straps. Whumpee squealed from the sudden compression- the straps were far too tight. Whumper circled them until they were right in front of them once again. They reached out a hand and wiped the tears from their face. Whumpee flinched hard, nearly toppling over.
“Oh Whumpee,” Whumper sighed, “do I have to give you a drug as well?”
Whumpee shook their head fervently. Whumper held up a hand, then nodded to their agents. One of them produced a syringe, handing it to Whumper.
“Mmph!” Whumpee pleaded desperately, new tears forming.
“Well I can’t give you a pill with that on,” Whumper said, tapping their gag, “I’m afraid this is the only way you can take your medicine.”
Whumper brushed Whumpee’s hair from their neck and injected the contents of the syringe into their system. Whumpee cried out through the gag, the sound never making it out of their throat.
“Shhh, all done,” Whumper said, kissing the injection site, “it’s alright now.”
Whumpee took shallow breaths through their nose which steadily became deeper as the drug sucked them down into a forced calm. They slumped forward in the chair, their hair falling like a curtain in front of their face.
Whumper nodded to the agents, who left the room. They scooped their captive up in a bridal carry and brought them over to the bed. They laid them down on the soft mattress, then started to apply the bed’s straps to their suit; this would keep Whumpee from falling out. Once that was done, they pulled the blankets up to their chin.
“Some time like this will help you reflect,” Whumper said gently, “I do hate to punish you so, but it’s necessary.”
Whumpee avoided Whumper’s gaze, their glassy eyes growing heavy. They wriggled in their excessive restraints, trying and failing to get free. In their stupor, they still tried to beg through the gag.
“Mmm…”
“I know I said I hate to punish you like this, but I must admit, you are adorable in this state,” Whumper said, carding a hand through Whumpee’s hair, “maybe your punishment should last a little longer.”
Thank you again for choosing the Whump Drive Thru! You have been served by Huffle! Have a wonderful day!
"No." Whumper said it simply, the word ringing with finality, like something he'd already made up his mind on. He'd thought it through, that part was clear. If he wanted Whumpee dead, they would've been.
Whumpee's terror only grew. They stifled any facial response, a widening of the eyes or a tremor to their hands, yet that all became pointless the very moment Whumper stepped forward. The hurricane of thoughts swirling around in their mind clouded their vision, pushing and prodding around their brain, forcefully taking the reins. They flinched.
Whumper caught it. A flicker of a amusement flashed across their face, alongside their overwhelming sense of pride. In that moment, where wary eyes met predatory ones, they both knew one thing for certain. With Whumper, death became the better alternative.
Whumper's hand made its way onto Whumpee's shoulder, and the latter didn't dare make a move. Any escape plan seemed a liability with this proximity, and Whumper's fingers digging in did not help turn that thought down. Rationale faded and fear took its place. "Did you truly think I was going to let you off so easily?”
"..No." Of course not. They'd hoped for it, though. Stupid.
He knew they did. He could see the way the hope still lingered in their expression despite their answer, the spark they'd tried to convince themself no longer existed. He leaned closer, head tilted to the side. "Good. I don't give mercy.”
"I know.”
He watched them for a moment. Watched their expression, the obvious hint of defeat. Still, defeat did not overpower the little bit of fight that defined their core.
No matter. It was his job to put that fire out, and he did not lack the means to do so.
Whumpee collapsed on the rough forest ground, their suit tattered and covered in dirt. They had been walking in the unforgiving heat for days without food or shelter, living off muddy river water. They just couldn’t do it anymore.
After a few hours, a voice cut through the woods. “Whumpee? Why don’t you come back so we can have a chat.” Whumpee laid there, motionless. They would have cried if they had the energy.
Heavy boots crunched the leaves beneath them as Whumper walked over and kneeled by Whumpee’s side. “Oh, you poor little traitor.” They gripped Whumpee’s hair and forced them to make eye contact with Whumper. “You will never get away from me.”
“Pet~ Supper’s ready!” Villain called out in a singly voice as he hummed to a tune on the radio.
Hero had accepted the proposal two weeks ago. In an odd way, it hadn’t been as bad as they were expecting. Villain never hurt them, aside from the few flicks to the forehead or chiding pinches to their side if they made any mistakes, but they could hardly consider that cruel. If anything, Villain almost acted like… a caretaker? Hero didn’t know how to describe their dynamic now. Food was constantly available, Hero had their own room—though there were no windows and the door was locked from the outside until Villain decided otherwise—and Hero even got their own wardrobe. It made them wonder if they had been lobotomized after all and all of this was just a scenario they were stuck in, in their own mind. It was possible.
They still couldn’t use their powers. It confused them, they weren’t aware of the power inhibitor lodged into their lower spine, but the thought did float around as they pieced together a few things. Despite all of the seemingly nice things about the situation, the reality of it all was that they were still a captive. A prisoner. Villain would remind them that they were their pet. Something meant to look pretty and be taken care of, but not meant to make a fuss or live for itself. This facade wouldn’t last forever. ‘Villain would get bored of this eventually and rid of them when they found another shiny toy’, Hero thought. How wrong they were.
Hero padded over to the kitchen with soft footsteps. The cold tile clings to their bare feet. No shoes to hide anything in. The aroma of crisp roast duck wafted into their nose. Making their stomach speak up for them. Villain turns with a nearly loving smile. It made Hero’s stomach churn.
“There you are. Come, come. Be my taste tester.”
Hero quietly obeyed. Coming up to Villains side, they eyed the pan that held a whole duck with potatoes and cabbage lining the sides. Villain cut a slice of the breast before raising the piece on the fork, offering it to their adorable pet. Hero hesitated, even after the past two weeks of realizing that Villain never tried to poison them with food, it was still a thought in the back of their mind.
“Hm. Not a fan of my cooking still, darling?”
Villain hummed with a mockingly sad pout that almost made Hero roll their eyes. They sighed and reluctantly took a bite. Villain beamed with content. A soft chuckle escaping them. Their free hand came up to trace the electric collar on Hero’s neck before trailing up to cup their cheek.
“Such a lovely pup. Always pleasing me.” Slender fingers gently tilt Hero’s chin up. “Should I reward you for being so good for me?”
The questions alone made Hero shiver uncomfortably. Only being enhanced with the deceivingly sweet touches. The duck still in the process of being chewed in their mouth, but they force themselves to swallow whatever’s left.
“If you think I… deserve it.” They try to play along. Just bide your time. Wait for the chance. It’s not worth making Villain pick their guard back up around them. Any small breakthroughs were one step closer to finding a way out of Villains grasp.
—
After dinner, Villain decided they wanted to watch a movie tonight… and Hero didn’t exactly have a choice but to watch it with them. Their head rested on Villains lap with the rest of their body lying on its side, on the couch. Familiar fingers card through their hair at a leisurely pace. Hero was tense for the first hour, but the movie was a decent distraction from the situation. They could almost slip their mind away for a moment. Imagining Villain to be one of their friends or a future partner instead, and this was just an average Wednesday. He wasn’t stuck in a villains base with no idea where they were or how to get out. They weren’t stripped of their powers. They weren’t constantly reminded with whispers of what could’ve happened if they hadn’t accepted this instead of the alternative. And they most definitely weren’t a pet.
Their optimistic daydream was broken when Villain very gently gave a small tug on Hero’s hair to get their attention. As they look up to meet what used to be sinister red eyes, were now a soft amber, Villain offered a small smile. “Should I leave the collar off for a time?”
Hero’s eyes widened with a flicker of hope and relief. It took some willpower to not show their enthusiasm, in case it made Villain change their mind. They settled for a timid nod. Soft fingers traced their hairline and traveled down their neck, dancing along the collar. In a ridiculously simple fashion, Villain pressed a button that made it fall off. ‘Was it really that simple this whole time? A button of all things?’ Hero complained in their mind. However, they couldn’t deny how freeing it felt. No more cold metal constricting just tight enough to keep them aware of its presence, no irritation, no fear of whatever the collar had the power to do if they misbehaved. A gentle touch soothed the irritated skin with slow rubbing. Hero should’ve hated themselves for feeling so relaxed right now. As if this was normal. As if this was domestic enough for them to feel safe. They should be fighting tooth and nail to escape right now. Not yet though. Not yet.
“Better, love?” Villain cooed. Hero simply nodded. Their eyes falling closed. “Mm, such a good pet. So pretty. So well behaved.” The praises made Hero feel a flutter in his chest while making him feel sick to his stomach at the same time.
—
A few days passed where Villain had taken the collar off of Hero periodically. Each time, Hero would behave. No signs of disobedience. As a reward, the collar would be left off for longer.
One night, Villain held Hero in their arms in the comfort of their bed. Collar off. The room was dark and the soft sound of classical music hummed in the silence. Hero was drifting off. Expecting Villain to make them go back down to the basement or at least put the collar back on. Until he heard the soft snore fill his ear the Villain breathed against. Heart skipping. They look over their shoulder slowly. Greeted by the sight of a sleeping Villain. Arms loose around them, heart steady. This was it.
With careful and patience maneuvering, Hero managed to replace their body with a pillow in Villains arms. Only moving on with their escape when another snore rings out. Having memorized the creaky floorboards by now, Hero tiptoes through the maze and up to the door. Taking their time with every possible move. ‘This has to work. This will work.’ They repeated to themselves for a boost of confidence. Through the bedroom door. Down the hallways. Out to the main base. Follow the industrial pipes. The whole time, the only thing Hero could hear was their own heart pounding in their ears. Their arms wrapped tightly around themselves. Sweating bullets from the blanket of anxiety weighing heavily on them. Villain would be here any second. They’d catch them. They’d hurt them. Bring them back to the day they chose this life.
They’re snapped out of their thoughts by the sight of the door they remember being taken through. The outside world just a door away. A heavy breath leaves them, quite still, as they slowly take a hold of the handle. The moment the door cracks—
WARNING. WARNING. EASTERN ENTRANCE OPEN WITHOUT BIOMETRIC PERMISSION. WARNING. WARNING.
Fuck! Hero swings the door open and sprints out. Red spotlights circle around the perimeter and sirens blare with the warning message. It felt like a thriller movie. Horror. The only thing they could see were trees, and that’s exactly where they booked it. Feet stumbling over branches and piles of leaves in the darkness. The moon filtering through taunted Hero. Giving slim hope with what little light it provided.
“HERROOO!” Villains voice echoed for miles. Nearly making hero’s heart stop. Their lungs burned from the freezing air. Feet clinging to the to the ground with every desperate step that pushed them into a sprint. They had to make it. They had esca—
The tackle was harsh and instant. Hero gets slammed to the damp earth, making them cry out desperately from fear and the pain of face planting. Front lobe throbbing, nose stinging. Dirt painted their cheeks and seeped under their nails. A heavy weight pinned them down. They thrashed and struggled. Heaving for air just as heavily as Villain was. Villain whipped Hero around to make them lay on their backside. Pinning their wrists above their head into the soil.
“Get off! Getoffgetoffget the FUCK off!” Hero was hysterical. Fight or flight mingled. Desperately wanting to flee, but having to fight their way out. If only they had their powers. Why the fuck couldn’t they use them anymore?! They never realized how helpless they could be without them until they met Villain.
Villain didn’t say a word. Simply keeping their flailing pet underneath them until their fight died out. Until they were heaving for air and their body went limp in their grasp. Hero’s eyes were glassy. Trying desperately not to let their tears rise, but at this point, why bother hiding it. A gentle touch finds its way into Hero’s hair when Villain lets go of one of their wrists. Hero pathetically leans into the touch.
“Done playing, pet?” Hero meekly nods. What else was there to do? Fight? That didn’t prove to do much. Run? Didn’t get very far. Beg? They’ve begged countless times for countless reasons, and it rarely ever worked. A sniffle elicits a soft ‘shh’ from Villain. A mock comfort. “Good.” A sigh follows. Annoyance? Disappointment? Did it matter? “I suppose I should’ve expected this. I had such high hopes for you.”
“V-Villain I—“ A sharp tug at Hero’s hair silences them. Their breath hiccuped.
“What else am I to do, hm? I don’t give second chances, but I gave one to you. My pathetic, sweet little pet.” Villain shakes their head. A brow raised as they fall silent. Eyes trained on nothing. Until they snap down to Hero’s flooded eyes and quivering lip. “I thought you’d be the one… how mistaken I was.” Villain tightened their grip on Hero’s hair as they started to drag them along. Not giving them enough leverage to pick themselves up or dig their feet into the ground to stop them. Hero sobbed, scratching and grasping at Villains hand that was straining a headache from the taut strands. The leaves and damp dirt cling to the fearful Hero’s clothes and skin.
“No NO NO! Please please p-plea-I'm sorry, 'm so sorry. I d-don't know why I did that. I swear I won't do it again!” Their pleas were ignored and cast away mercilessly. Dragged all the way back to Villain’s base. Their prison. Their glassy eyes flit one last time to the sky before they’re never allowed to see it again. Familiar white walls cave in around them. A trail of grime mixed with dread makes a trail behind the two. Painting the floor like breadcrumbs, all the way to a room Hero’s never been to before. Down deep in the forgotten parts of Villain’s base. Broken lights flicker overhead and discolored marks stain the walls.
Hero is picked up roughly by their hair. Leaving them struggling until they find their footing. Their scalp getting relief when Villain’s fingers slip away, not before gripping Hero by their shoulders and shoving them into a pitch black room. Breath hitched, shaking from the freezing temperature and fear, wide eyes try to adjust to the darkness. With a few desperate blinks, they thought their mind was playing tricks on them. Seeing a face in the darkness in front of them. Until Villain switched on a light and Hero jumped back. It wasn’t just one person, it was entire room full of them. Hero’s heart was thumping wildly as they took in what they were seeing. The people. The… heroes? These were other heroes they recognized. Only, they were nearly just as unrecognizable. Their bodies appearing dormant. Not moving an inch. Eyes glazed over and staring at nothing. Were they even breathing? Hero flinches again when Villain places a hand on their back. A deep sigh escapes Villain.
“Why must each of you be so ungrateful for my love?” Red eyes scan over all of the husks that don’t respond, before landing on Hero. Villain’s hand sneaks back up into Hero’s hair to yank their head to face them. “Hm? Do you know?” Hero stays silent. Pleading eyes flicker between Villain and the sea of heroes… well, who were once heroes. Villain tugs at their hair harder to keep their attention. “Don't you see, darling? This is what would've become of you if I had not allowed you to worm your way into my heart.” Each word spoken through gritted teeth with harsh hisses following. Hero whimpers pitifully. Helpless. Oh so helpless.
“Please.” A small whisper. Barely making it past their lips. Villain hums without approval. Their hand coming up to caress Hero’s tears away from their cheek.
“No. I can’t allow you to take advantage of my love like the rest of them did.” Villain pulls the pliant Hero closer. A breath away before they press a featherlight kiss to Hero’s forehead. Making their pet shiver and quietly sob. “Such a pity. You were my favorite.”
—
Hero found themselves back in the same room that brought them here. The room they had begged for death in. Where they gave up their life, their soul to Villain. To think, it hadn’t even been a month before they went and messed everything up. If only they had just stayed good. Was it really all that bad with Villain? Compared to what they were going to become now. How the others had become. Villain brushed Hero’s hair back as they sat them down on the same bed. Watching the miserable hero dissociate. No more tears left to shed. The ocassional plea slipping from their lips like a broken record. ‘How beautiful they looked like this’, Villain thought. Perfectly submissive. Adorably pitiful. They crouch down in front of the hero. Their pet. Hands gently cradle shaky ones. Their eyes meet.
“Tell me, love. Does my pet deserve one more chance?”
+++
Date: July 28, 2025
Taglist for those who asked for a part 2: @bloody-grin, @books-bring-me-joy
[Didn’t want to tag anyone who wouldn’t want to be tagged lol]
Whumpee and Caretaker are running through the woods. They breathe hard, greedily inhaling the cold, thin air. Their hearts beat wildly, their legs burn from the strain. Just a little further...
The faraway barking fills them with dread: Whumper is on their tail!
Suddenly, Whumpee hears a stifled groan. They turn around to find Caretaker on the ground, grimacing and holding their leg.
"No, no, no!" Whumpee panics.
They try their best to help Caretaker up, but it just doesn't work. Whumpee isn't strong enough!
"Just go!" Caretaker orders with their commanding voice. "Now!"
Whumpee hesitates, fear and guilt tearing them apart. They flinch at the sounds of pursuers getting closer, then in a split second they turn around and keep running. In their mind, they beg Caretaker for forgiveness but don't dare look behind.
Soon Whumper and the guards reach Caretaker.
"Your little friend has abandoned you?" Whumper mocks them with a cruel grin. "Don't worry, we'll get Whumpee yet. For now, you're coming with us."
Whumper motions for the guards to pick up their victim off the ground and drag them along, but Caretaker stands up and follows Whumper...
cw: drugging, brief violence (whumpee fights back 🙏🙏), intimate whumper (carewhumper). lmk what i missed 👍
~~
It’s faint.
The twitch in my fingertip is faint, barely noticeable even to myself, but it’s there. I know it is. It has to be. My eyes, tired and unsteady, flick downward at the hand he isn’t holding. Every nail is freshly cut, filed tenderly, and almost to the bed. It’s admirable, nearly, how much careful gentleness he puts into every subtle threat, as though he were disciplining an unruly child rather than holding a prisoner. But my index finger, my perfectly-manicured index finger, can curl in on itself if I focus enough. The slightest bit of my autonomy is returning to me in consciousness, meaning perhaps I can reclaim it all if I play these delicate cards right.
I tilt my head sluggishly, looking back at his lap. He’s holding my hand with both of his, one supporting my knuckles and upper palm while caressing me with his thumb, and the other manning the silver nail clippers as he poises its jaws over the nail of my middle finger. I hate him so damn much. That gentle rub wears through my skin, sending hellish needles through my arm as my knuckles feel raw. I’d almost prefer to be struck than to be coddled and pretend that everything is the way it used to be.
He glances up at me, a small, fond smile that lets his teeth poke out belying the torment and carnage I know he’s capable of. His hand squeezes mine as he mutters, “Almost finished, then I can lock you back up. You can sleep off the sedative until dinner. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
No. It sounds terrible. But I don’t tell him that. I instead grumble unhappily. It’s all I’m reduced to like this, and it’s humiliating. He just laughs, laughs, and continues to raise my indignation with his “pampering.” It’s okay, though, because I’m starting to move my wrist, too. I don’t dare test the movement in the hand he’s working on, though I’m almost confident it, too, is capable of movement. I close my eyes, trying to keep my face and breathing calm. He can spot a shift in attitude like a shark can smell blood, and if a hitch in my breath is what gives me away, I will never forgive myself. I feel him move the clippers to my ring finger, and I know I’m running out of precious time.
I curl my fingers into a fist as I flex my elbow. Through my bangs, I look up at him. Still, he’s so focused on my nails. I want to laugh bitterly; the ever so benevolent companion, so doting and loving, too interested in his prized possession to see the threat to his right. I don’t go back, I don’t second-guess, I just slam into his cheekbone.
Everything happens so quickly, so perfectly. He lets go of my hand, groaning as I shove him off the bed and to the floor. I stand, holding on to the bedframe at the foot of the bed as I stare down at him. It’s where he belongs. Before he can snap out of his stunned stupor, I collapse on top of him, heaving with effort as I clench the collar of his shirt. With every ounce of strength I can muster, I slam his head into the metal frame.
“I… f’ck’n… hate… y’...” I declare, my eyes squinting as I place my hands around his neck. He stares at me, not afraid, but… amused. It makes my face flush red as I tighten my weak grip. “You… are… dirt…” I sneer through gritted teeth, “Noth’n… but… traitor… scum…”
“Sounds like you’re still a little tired,” he muses, albeit with some trouble. One hand clenches both of my wrists as the other reaches into his pants pocket.
Dammit, dammit, dammit!
“Maybe you should take your nap earlier,” he sweetly suggests. I hardly comprehend what’s happening before I’m back in bed, my eyes wilting shut as the sting of my neck grows more painful. “I’ll finish your nails while you sleep. We can talk when you wake.”
Recaptured living weapon Whumpee who is about to face the consequences of their escape. And when Whumper brings them back into that painfully familiar room, when they calmly take out the whip, Whumpee knows precisely what to do.
Their feet take them to the middle of the room, and they kneel, methodically disposing of their shirt. As their shoulders roll back into a straightened position, they can practically feel Whumper's gaze burning into the back of their head. A sadistic, eyes-only smile, knowing that even though Whumpee was physically free for some time, they never truly escaped.
