Wumpee being kept as decoration during Whumpers meetings.
Men in suits, elegantly dressed, sitting at a large wooden table, some of them eyeing a naked whumpee up and down while others pay them no mind.
Whumpee being kept in bare minimum clothing as they serve drinks to the lot before returning to their owners side.
Whumper either motioning to them to sit on the floor or pulling them onto their lap, forcing whumpees back against their chest as they mindlessly torment them. Hand trailing over their body, pinching and poking at cuts and bruises as they continue their conversation.
One of the other men purposely spilling their drink and calling whumpee over to lick it off their shoe. Following it up spilling it onto their lap, making whumpee suck at the clothes and grunting through the entire process, jerking their hips into Whumpees face. (I need reading suggestions related to this please)
Whumper letting all of them take turns as long they get their way in whatever matter they were discussing.
Whumpee watching as they eat, unaware of the fact that they're dessert. (This too guys)
ON THE CONTRAST
Whumper being extremely possessive of Whumpee and not letting anyone else see them.
Someone going to the bathroom and running into Whumpee.
Whumpee not knowing how to say "No" as they have their way with them
Returning to the meeting and commenting at the end as everyone's leaving about how lucky they are to have a slut like Whumpee.
Whumper confused at first as to how they know about Whumpee but then raging at the fact that they touched them
The person defending their actions by saying "They never told me to stop"
Whumper beating them senseless and dragging them to Whumpee as an apology gift.
Bonus: That person becomes the new Whumpee or at least takes the beating for a good while. Original Whumpee watching with a sick sense of happiness and then hating themselves for enjoying it just like Whumper does.
Whumpee being regularly passed around multiple whumpers- one just wants to hear them scream, another wants a servant, one wants to have sex and pretend it's consensual, another wants to humiliate them to the point of tears.
Whumpee develops different personas and coping mechanisms for each one, explaining it to themselves as letting part of them rest while another part plays a role (and having to work feels easy after having been put through pain, having “consensual” sex means they get “looked after” and that can feel nice, but being humiliated is almost cathartic after having to pretend they wanted it, and torture at least doesn't require their collaboration, or even feels dignified compared to the rest- every one thing is a break from the others). They fall into a routine where they know how to manage each whumper, and end up acting very differently depending on who's in the room with them.
And then all the whumpers decide to have a nice get together, and entertain themselves with whumpee...
“Ah, shit. Damaged again?”
“Yeah. Boss isn't gonna be happy that it'll be out of comission.”
“It almost got killed out there today. That would've been annoying paperwork.”
“Heard it obeys every command.”
“Think it'll kiss my boot?”
“Just set the bone. Don't think the thing even feels anything.”
“Fucking ugly mug it got there. Looks like it was shredded by a lawnmower.”
“Right? Is it too much to ask for to have a mindless thing with a pretty face?”
“Stupid thing lost their gun in the fight. We should send it into the next one without one. Should teach it not to lose our shit.”
“What's his name?”
“Who? Oh, that's not a person. Listens to any name as long as you look at it. Watch. Hey, fuckass. Come here. See?”
“Look at it. Big fucking idiot. Can't even change its fucking clothes. It's like a deadly toddler.”
(Whumptober, Day 19: Living Weapon, Dehumanisation)
Currently thinking of this scenario where there are multiple whumpers watching a whumpee getting beaten up/tortured/interrogated after pissing off the opposing side with their defiance and arrogance,
So when they watch whumpee take this visibly painful hit, the thud of their body against the wall or furniture, their whimpers and groans,
their captors hiss and laugh, maybe they go 'ooh, that it looked like it hurt real bad' and in the midst of choking on their own blood, the pain and the world spinning around them, whumpee can only grit their teeth in anger, and endure the mockery.
Lead Whumper leaves for a while, puts some of their subordinates in charge of Whumpee. Their orders were simple. Keep Whumpee alive.
Lead should’ve been more specific, considering they wanted them not just alive, but functional: they return and Whumpee is, for a lack of a better term, broken.
It’s pathetic. Lead enters Whumpee’s dark cell and is greeted by the sight of them curled up on the floor, sloppily bound, blindfold half off their face, covered in bodily fluids. Shaking, cowering, trying to shield themself.
Lead is incensed, demanding to know what possessed their subordinates to do such a thing. They flip on the lights, untie Whumpee, remove the blindfold, yet Whumpee doesn’t move or take advantage of the moment. They remain on the floor, shivering in fear like a small dog.
The subordinate Lead entered with has no idea about what led to Whumpee’s state. Lead will deal with the others later. They help Whumpee up; after flinching like they expected Lead’s outstretched arm to be one that hits, Whumpee doesn’t fight the assistance. Lead brings Whumpee to a new, clean cell, provides them with clean clothes and some food. Whumpee entertains neither, ignores the bed, and instead presses themself into a corner, back to the wall, knees to their chest, arms wrapped around their legs, face buried.
Lead watches this, growing more and more angry. The change in environment hadn’t worked like Lead had hoped. The once defiant, stubborn, tough person they’d finally gotten their hands on had been reduced to this. The easy problem now would be finding who did it. The harder one would be fixing the mess Lead was now left with.
CW: continuation contains implied noncon!
Lead leaves Whumpee’s cell, putting a trusted employee on guard to watch them, on a mission to locate and punish whoever broke their perfect Asset. It doesn’t take long to put the pieces together. A small cohort of the ones left in charge formed a tight group, and let nobody else access Whumpee or view that they did to them.
Now, Whumpee wasn’t exactly in a position to protect themselves. The group found them a fun prize, an attractive thing that talked back. Person? No, that wasn’t a descriptor that even passed through their minds. All they saw was an object to exploit, and they did. Over and over again, until Whumpee expected every touch to hurt, fighting to be useless, suffering as a given. Learned helplessness was now their defining philosophy.
At first, they group brags. When they realize they’re not being met with praise, but disapproval, their tone switches to justification, to victim blaming. Oh, come on, you’ve seen them, you understand, don’t you? Lead stops the discussion there. They don’t have to hear much to know their course of action. None of their employees will forget what happens when they cross Lead.
They return to their Asset, knowing now how horribly violated they were in Lead’s absence. The least they can do is tell them it won’t happen again. They’re not empathetic, this comfort is strictly pragmatic. They need trust, or something close enough to it that Whumpee won’t break down at the mere presence of people. They’re not feeling bad for Whumpee. Whumpee is their detainee, their Asset, they cannot afford to spend more emotional energy on them than they already have.
The Guest shook his head in disappointment and shot a disgusted look down. “What do you do when they show such blatant disrespect?” he asked his friend.
“I hit them,” Whumper said with an apologetic grin. “Punch them.”
“And then what? Does that work?”
“Well, not really.” He let out a little chuckle. “But I don’t mind.”
A sigh, followed by a short silence. “You’re way too soft on them.”
“I kinda like it when they push back.”
“There’s a difference between liking the fire in them and allowing them to do whatever they please.” The Guest shot him a look. “Like insulting visitors.”
Both looked down in silence at Whumpee, who was writhing at their feet after a merciless beatdown, listening to their conversation. Whumper didn’t seem admonished or ashamed, but did seem to think that over.
“Maybe you should leave them with me for a week,” the Guest finally said.
Whumpee stopped breathing. Their eyes went wide. They sharply looked up, winced hard as pain shot through them, but they found Whumper’s eyes. He was looking at them with a strange expression; still thinking it over. Whumpee held his gaze, shook their head.
“You think?” Whumper asked slowly, eyes locked on Whumpee but addressing his guest.
“I’ll instill the basics. Nothing too drastic, don’t worry. I know the line between that fire you like and desired behaviour.” He looked down too, his sneer turning to a cold gaze. “And they should know as well.”
“Well, alright,” Whumper said, to Whumpee’s horror.
A hand immediately clamped around their wrist and pulled them up without mercy, not caring about the bruises and pains he inflicted just moments ago.
“No… No, wait—” Whumpee started as the pain flared up all over their body, not sure if they were protesting this horrible arrangement, or were hoping for a second to gather themself. Or both.
A slap echoed out. Sharp pain exploded over their face. Dazed, horrified, they let Whumper’s guest pull them in close.
“Do as you’re told,” he hissed in their face.
All they could do was give a meek nod. And let themself be dragged off. To god knows where. With some unknown man.
-
Days had passed and they still didn’t know a thing about this guy. Didn’t know his name, so they just referred to him in their head as ‘Whumper’s friend’. Whumper’s goddamn awful friend. Or asshole, bastard, rotten idiot. Never out loud. No, never again. That had been their first lesson.
So by now, after a week, the only thing they knew about him was that there were no bounds to his cruelty. And that he accepted no resistance whatsoever.
Even laying down, on this cold barren floor, the pain of all the punishment still racked through them. Bruises throbbed with each movement, cuts threatened to reopen, reminding them of their struggles, their resistance, of what he wanted from them. Only the welts on their back fully drove that home and were the ones that snapped that last thread of defiance.
Even a sob hurt, so they just lay there… waiting.
The door creaked open and automatically their body curled up, all tense.
Footsteps echoed closer.
Whumpee hesitated, but still raised their head. Slowly, as if it took the greatest effort. Well, it did. But it was better to gauge what his mood for the day was. Or see if he carried a weapon with him.
“Oh, my,” they heard a familiar voice say instead.
A soft but sharp inhale through their nose. They snapped up—immediately winced in pain.
Whumper crouched down in front of them.
“Oh my,” he said again, this time his tone laced with amusement instead of surprise. “Must be a trick of the light… I’d swear I saw some relief there.”
For once they were glad of their broken body and that wince that covered that relief. Still, they looked away.
But Whumper wouldn’t have it.
His hand cupped their chin, rougher than he would before, fingers digging under their jaw, and he yanked hard to force them to look at him.
“What did you learn this week?” he asked.
Whumpee snarled, biting back their anger. They didn’t want to say it, it would be humiliating. They wanted to sneer and rage instead; shout how his friend was a sadistic bastard, and so was he! But a voice in the back of their head stopped them, a voice that sounded an awful lot like—
“Please,” they started in a soft voice. “I want to come with you.”
“Why?”
Their voice died in their throat. If there was anything they had learned this week, it was to tread carefully. He’d probably get angry if they said he was softer, not as angry as his friend…
“If you learned to be this good...” Whumper purred, and lightly pushed their chin up, “Then it wouldn’t matter with whom you stayed. You wouldn’t need any more punishment.”
No. But if they did… and they would… it was an easy choice between a fist or a whip. Whumpee started trembling. Tears pooled against Whumper’s fingers. He was not swayed.
“Say it. Or I’ll think you’ll need another week here.”
A hiccup. Then a whisper. “He is cruel… so cruel. Please, I want to come with you. You’re not this wicked, you’re—” They choked on the only word they could find that wouldn’t offend but appeal—but it would be awful to say. They swallowed it down. “You’re merciful.”
He let out a soft but kind scoff. The fingers in their jaw fell away. And he held out a hand to them instead.
“Then let’s go home.”
-
General whump tag list: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @auroragehenna @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop @treasureguardingdragon @morning-star-whump @jumpywhumpywriter @stars-hide-our-fires @whumplicity @whumpasaurus101 @theloveofwhump @turquoise-peach @ieattoenailsforlunchlikearealone
Stomping whumpee's chest until they gasp out all their air
Using whumpee's bootlaces to tie their feet together without even having to take off their shoes
Boot on face as a threat to break whumpee's neck
Whumpee, beaten on the floor and unable to move as whumper walks up and their boots come into where whumpee can see them, stopping ominously in front of their face.
Heeled crotch-stomp.
Threatening whumpee by raising a booted foot and making them flinch back, afraid to be kicked
Whumpee flat on the ground, pinned. Boots crushing and scraping skin off whumpee's wrists and ankles by the goons that are holding them down for whumper to beat them.
