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AI-less Whumptober

Day 1 Collapsed lung, Contusion, "Well, that shouldn't have happened."

TW/CW: Attempted murder (Whumpee -> Whumper), threats, conditioning, punishment, knife whump, Word count: 791

When this day began Whumper didn't expect to find themselves at the wrong side of a blade by the time it ended.

Yet here they were, lying in their bed while Whumpees dark silhouette held a knife high above them in their slightly trembling hands.

Whumper sighed, they weren't really in the mood to dish out a punishment right now, having been asleep and all but seems like their little toy wasn't giving them a choice. And so they slowly started sitting up, careful not to lose sight of the weapon.

"Don't-don't fucking move!", Whumpee warned, hands holding the knife handle tighter. "Don't move or I swear we will finally get to find out what your blood looks and tastes like instead of mine!"

Whumper hesitated only a moment at that. Only long enough to shoot their insubordinate little plaything a look. That was all it took for Whumpee's eyes to widen so delicously and their hands to start trembling, holding the knife closer to their body again. So now Whumper could finally sit up and move their legs over the edge of the bed, however not turning on the nightstand lamp, not yet. „So let‘s talk.“

„I don‘t want to fucking talk! I want to end this!“, Whumpee yelled.

„Quiet!", Whumper commanded, voice suddenly rising as well, still rough from sleep. "Let‘s discuss," they continued normally again, "Why I find myself on the end of a blade by someone whom I‘ve taught what happens if they ever dare to try and harm me. Let‘s philosophize about how you are out of your room which you were just recently locked into due to random disobedience.

„Stop it! Stop talking!“, Whumpee yelled, interrupting Whumper and wrapping their shaking fingers closer around the hilt of the knife. Knuckles having turned white.

„Because you told me to? Demanded it? I thought I had ingrained into you where your place is. Do you earnestly think holding that knife in your hands is what gives you power? First, it was your friends‘s safety as leverage that gave me power. And after that, my sweet, mine, slowly but surely, it was my efforts and your losses that gave me power. Every time you cowered when I threatened. Each time you begged after I dealt that one drop too much pain, and every single time you surrendered to the comfort only I provided you.“

"Shut up, shut the fuck up.", Whumpee demanded but it was more akin to a whimper now.

"No, you will be silent!", Whumper yelled, quickly standing up now with a lot of noise. Making himself large. "Why should I tolerate such insoltent behaviour from a nothing like you!?"

Whumpee whimpered violently and dropped to the floor. Scrambling backwards on their knees.

„I own you, and you best remember that you are nothing without me.“ Whumper stepped to Whumpee, backing them against a wall by their mere approach, and leaning down. They trapped Whumpee‘s jaw in their hand and forcefully tilted it up against the terrified flinches and trembling. „So. One more time. Do you think you get to demand anything?“

Whumpees eyes downcast in Whumper‘s hold. „No, Whumper.“

„And do you think its okay to blatantly break the rules I set for you, escape your room, Draw A Blade At Me!? Especially for something like you, my sweet little puppet?“

A tear escaped Whumpees eye. „No, Whumper, I‘m sorry. I shouldn’t have done any of it.“

„Very good, darling.“ Whumper reached behind them where the knife had been left abandoned on the floor and picked it up before straightening up and turning on the nightstand lamp. Moving over to their desk they grabbed a length of course rope. „Whumpee. Get on your knees prettily, by the bed. Don‘t move.“, they ordered.

Their victim immediately complied and while Whumper tied them down in a kneeling stress position the only thing going through Whumpees mind besides dull shock and adrenaline was self-loathing.

Of course they had to go and mess things up. Why could they think that that they could be anything more than a plaything for torture successfully. Anything more than a slave. Thin was the only thing they were good for. And Whumper was the only one merciful enough to let them try anew time and time again. This was all their worth, hoping for anything else was foolish and pathetic. Gosh they were so sorry. And so gross.

Whumper finished tying the last knot and gave Whumpee a kiss on the forehead before violently stabbing the knife into the floorboards before their tied up plaything. „I‘ll talk to you tomorrow, sweetheart.“

And with that the nightstand lamp turned off once more. Leaving familiar darkness and familiar words to mingle in Whumpees sleepess brain.

Taglist: @ailesswhumptober , @yourlocalgaefae33 , @princessofhe11 , @loreleiloon