“Needing to kiss to hide from bad guys.” /// “Its six in the morning, you’re not having Vodka.” /// “I didn’t mean to get blood on your shirt.” /// “You asked for this / You wanted this.”
DURRING CAPTURE
“Karaoke night!! Hanna go sing your favorite song! /// “Conner, let Hanna do whatever she wants for five minutes.” /// “Conner letting Hanna leave and Hanna being unable to do so.” ///
AFTER ESCAPE
“Whumpee talks to someone on an online app, only to eventually call them.” >>> Continuation where Conner proposes to Hanna
ASKS
ABOUT THE OC’S
“How deeply do your OC’s feel?” // “Scale of 1-10 how baby is your OC?” /// “How tall is Hanna?” /// “Conner Whump?” /// “Why does Conner want Hanna?” /// “Is Conner a cat or dog person?” /// “Hanna's favorite animal” /// “Were there ever moments while in Conner’s possession that Hanna tricked herself into feeling safe?” /// “Will we ever see a bigger badder villain than Conner?” /// “What does Zero like about Hanna the most and Hanna about him?”
TO THE OC’S
Conner
What’s your greatest fear? /// Do you have the hots for Hanna? /// Conner, do you have any friends? /// Connor, thoughts on being pegged? /// Conner, what kind of drunk are you?
Hanna
Hanna △ if Conner wasn’t your captor, how many shots would it take for you to make out with him?
CHALLENGES
Comfortember 2020 Master List
THANK YOU TO . . .
All of my readers who have commented, liked it, and/or reblogged my work! I certantly wouldn’t remain motivated if it wasn’t for you guys! Additional thanks to @bloodandbandages and @diamond-star for being my Beta! You're the best! Seriously!!!!
And, more specifically, the problem with them. Don't get me wrong, I am all for a fierce leading lady who can hold her own in any situation. Inspiring, intimidating, capable. All-around badass. But it seems like lately, every other female character we meet is cut from the same warrior cloth, and it's starting to feel a bit predictable.
First, let's give credit where credit is due. The influx of strong, capable, and independent female characters in recent media is undeniably empowering. Seeing women take charge, wield swords, and save the day sends a powerful message to audiences young and old: girls can do anything. And that's a message worth celebrating.
However, there's a flip side to this trend that's worth examining. In the rush to break away from the tired old tropes of delicate damsels in distress, it seems like some writers have swung too far in the other direction. How many recent female protagonists can you name who aren't strong and independent? Who have weaknesses that they aren't afraid of showing, or aren't able to hide? We're seeing a lot of new male leads with these characteristics, which is great, but it's like we've traded one stereotype for another.
All this results in a lot of one-dimensional female characters. I want to see girls who are witty, goofy, immature, sensitive, cocky. While it's great to see women kicking ass and taking names, it's also important to remember that strength comes in many forms.
One of the things that makes characters truly compelling is their complexity. Sure, it's empowering to see a woman single-handedly lead or defeat an army, but what about her flaws? Her insecurities? Her moments of vulnerability? Those are the things that make her relatable, that make her human. That makes her resonate with readers.
Take the classic "strong female character" archetype and add some depth to her. Maybe she's a skilled warrior, but she's also quick with a sarcastic quip. Or perhaps she's fiercely independent, but she's also afraid of being vulnerable with others. Or maybe she's not. Maybe she's not strong or independent or fierce at all. Maybe her strength lies somewhere else. Give her layers, give her contradictions, give her flaws.
And let's not forget about the other roles that female characters can play. The witty sidekick, the comic relief, the immature goofball, the sensitive soul—these are all valid and important character types, and they deserve to be represented just as much as the badass warrior woman.
So, to all the writers out there: by all means, keep giving us strong female characters. But let's make sure they're more than just stereotypes. Let's make them human. Let's give them depth and complexity and nuance. Because in the end, that's what makes a character truly unforgettable.
Working on the next HC undress, but for now, I had a WuLian idea 🚶♂️calamity Xie Lian making Wu Ming take off his mask….🧍♂️forcing him to show his wounds after a battle….🧎♂️AUUHHHH
CW: explicit nsfw smut, m/f/f, BBU, intravenous use of an aphrodisiac drug, amateur needle use, dubcon, sounding (female), slight accidental watersports, begging (including sincere begging to stop!), crying, edging, overstimulation, sex toys, anal, f/f and m/f, missionary, frottage, nipple play, light caning, mirrors
Where Amber gets a hold of a WRU drug used to train (and retrain) romantics. She and Belle want to give it a try, and they invite Cam. <3
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Belle was excited, mostly.
Amber saw her clock watching and gave her a fond look.“You scared?” she asked sweetly, tucking Belle’s hair behind her ear.
“No,” Belle lied. They had looked up the side effects together, gone over the dosage and the best way to get it in the bloodstream. Amber was so sure of the injection method that Belle had begun to share in her confidence. It was just first-time jitters, she told herself, like with anything. First time driving a car, going on a roller coaster, smoking pot, having sex. It would be fine. Whenever her mind wandered, she found herself trying to imagine the sensations the drug would bring, but with no way of knowing if she was right.
Amber asked if she wanted to invite Cameron. Wording is always important with Amber. It’s never accidental. Belle answered the question with a question: Do you want to invite Cameron? Amber said she did, but she knew Belle was already nervous to do this WRU drug. Maybe she didn’t want anyone besides her there the first time. But Belle liked the idea too. She liked Cam, ever since Amber had left her with him and his friends for a long weekend. The thought began to excite her. Sure, she said. Let’s invite him.
Amber had acquired screenshots from an internal WRU website her friend had access to. It said the drug called “Batch 24”, nicknamed Elysian Fields, was a powerful aphrodisiac. Effects lasting one to two hours. Subject may require restraints and firm direction. If heart rate reaches or exceeds 190bpm in subjects 18-35, pause all stimuli until heart rate lowers. Subject may appear as if in great distress. Refer to vitals, not subject’s actions or requests.
Belle was intrigued by these instructions, but it did nothing to ease her imagination. Amber prepared the living room for their little party of three. She pushed the coffee table out of the way, pulled the big floor mirror from her bedroom and leaned it against the wall. Together they dragged Belle’s queen mattress into the living room, right in front of the mirror. Amber laid a beach towel over the sheets.
“What’s that for?” Belle asked.
“Oh, I don’t know.” She tapped a few drops of lavender into her oil diffuser. “If you wanna get messy, you can.”
Cameron’s presence made Belle more nervous at first. She hadn’t seen him in a while, so he felt almost like a stranger, and she was jittery about Elysian Fields to begin with. She was anxious to get started, but Amber was taking her time. She was asking Cam about some mutual friend of theirs, gossiping about Alex Claire’s ex. Belle’s dark hair had just air-dried from her shower, and Amber started to brush it while chatting with Cameron. Once she smoothed out the initial tangles, she offered him the brush. He had to come off the sofa and join them on the mattress in order to accept it.
It was an icebreaker, Belle realized, something to get them started and all on the floor together. Thank God for Amber in that department.
Belle sat cross legged in front of him to give him access. Compared to Amber’s sure, familiar strokes, his were so tentative and foreign that they gave her goosebumps. After a few passes he bore down just a little harder, so the bristles massaged her scalp rather than tickled it.
“Do you know anything about using needles?” Amber asked casually.
“Not really,” he replied, using his free hand to gather the hair from her nape as he brushed it out. “And I won’t take offense to the fact that you asked.”
“I wasn’t implying that. Maybe you’ve given injections before, how would I know?”
“It has to be injected?”
“The kind I got, yeah. It’s fast acting, though, which is good. The pill isn’t, but I couldn’t get those any anyway.”
“Are you nervous?” Cam asked.
It took Belle a moment to realize he was addressing her. “Kind of,” she answered, turning to look into his face. “I’m just anxious to see what it feels like.”
“I bet. It’s safe?”
Amber nodded. She pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves from a box and tipped the vial of clear liquid upside down. They watched her insert the needle and draw the dosage. “Very. Especially for a healthy young boxgirl? Prime candidate.”
Amber’s confidence reassured her, yet again. She was right. WRU used this drug all the time, and she had read the side effects. None of them were that alarming. Every medication has side effects. She probably wouldn’t experience any of them.
“You’re sure it isn’t the drug that causes pain? I’ve heard some pretty awful things about that.”
“Definitely not. This is right from the lab. No middle man. Don’t scare my patient, Cameron.”
Belle hadn’t even considered the possibility that it could be tainted, tampered with, or the wrong WRU drug altogether. She had never experienced the drug Cam was referring to, but she knew it induced a vicious chemical torture that lasted hours and was rumored to be severely traumatizing to anyone who experienced it. It’s not, she told herself. The bottle’s right from WRU and labeled clearly. Too late— her heart was thudding against her ribcage.
Amber opened a sterile pad and swabbed a spot on her arm with gloved fingertips. The air was cold on her skin where it had touched. “Ready?”
Cam stopped brushing her hair. She held her arm an inch higher and looked to her left, away from where the needle would bite into her skin. “Don’t fuck up,” she whispered.
The bite of the needle was tiny— less than any blood draw or shot she could remember. It lingered for a moment and then it was gone. She never even felt the liquid enter her body. Amber held a cotton ball to the site. “Done,” she said, playing nurse, and capped the needle. She peeked under the cotton ball to see if it was bleeding and replaced it with a small blue band-aid.
Cameron put his palm on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Do you feel anything?”
She felt lightheaded, but it might just be from nerves and the needle itself. “I don’t know.”
She watched Amber take off the gloves and toss them aside. Her heart rate didn’t go down. It stayed slightly elevated. Her face flushed hot and she touched her cheek to feel it. Cam’s palm felt heavy and warm on her shoulder suddenly, the point of contact all she could think about.
Oh.
She laughed nervously. “Uhm,”
“Yeah?” Amber asked, looking her up and down as if for some physical sign.
“Yeah,” she answered, and leaned back into Cameron. He pulled her back an inch by her waist so she was snug against his chest. She looked up into his face. “Hi,” she said, like someone stoned.
“Hi,” he answered, amused. She wished he’d lean down and kiss her, or so something else with his hands— touch her, slip them under her clothes. How to communicate this? She whimpered and rocked her hips.
“Subject may need to be restrained…” Amber quoted wryly from the WRU screenshots. “Subject is so weird. Let’s say patient.”
Had Amber’s voice always been so attractive? The curve of her lips, the way her hair fell… the way she was— oh, God — she was pulling Belle’s floral print pajama shorts off her hips so easily, tugging them down, revealing her nakedness beneath them. Amber discarded them to the same corner as she had the gloves.
The big mirror they had propped against the wall displayed the scene they had created back at them. She could see Amber’s side profile and Cameron holding her own half-naked body. She stared for a moment, coyly letting her knees fall open, flirting with her own reflection. Cam looked up to the mirror too, and the fact that he was seeing what she was seeing made the blood in her ears pound. She was already getting wet. She wanted to show him, and slipped her hand between her legs to do so, but Amber grabbed her wrist and handed it to Cameron.
She rolled her eyes. “Hold her, please.”
Cam took her wrists in his hands and held them snugly at her sides, not enough to hurt but enough to let her know there was no lifting her arms now without him letting her. She whimpered in dismay and he kissed her temple, never taking his eyes off her in the mirror.
Amber had brought her box of sex toys from her bedroom, a shell-pink mini trunk with a lock on the front like those locking diaries they’d discovered they’d both coveted as girls. She lifted the lid.
“You know what’s in here,” she said. “But Cam doesn’t. I think we should go over a couple for him, don’t you think?”
Belle recognized when Amber was getting into her element. Her playful, relentless, salacious element. She hoped she’d get on with it, because that artificial feeling of heat was spreading from her face to her chest, all the way down between her legs. She pressed her knees together just to ride out the waves of need that had begun to flow through her as if she was being touched already— keenly aware that she wasn’t. Her nipples were hard under her flimsy spaghetti strap tank top, also untouched. Cam’s hands on her wrists were driving her crazy, such a controlling and firm point of contact. You’d think he was touching her bare breasts, or between her thighs. She laid her head back onto his chest.
“This one is good for starters,” Amber was saying, showing a familiar sex toy— a modest, magenta dildo. “You like this one in your ass, don’t you Belle?”
She moaned, partially in embarrassment of Cam’s hearing that and partially because now she was imagining it inside her. Nothing was inside her. Why? She rocked her hips into thin air. It was a crime.
Amber held up a Rabbit vibrator like she was showing off fine jewelry on a QVC channel. “This one is self explanatory. Maybe even at the same time as the first one, huh?”
Belle squirmed and Cam readjusted his grip on her wrists, which by itself was divine. The solidity of his chest against her back, the smell of him, so male and unfamiliar, was driving her wild.
“This one we love to hate,” Amber said, holding up a little toy that used pulsations of air. “It’s got about ten settings, and the last five are just too much for you, aren’t they?”
Maybe not right now, Belle thought. I’d take anything right now.
“She’ll still come,” Amber told Cam. “But she’s trying to get away the whole time. This,” she said, holding up a slim vibrator that was the size of an electric toothbrush. “This is precise and vicious. She loves it, but the second she comes she’s crying for you to take it off her.”
Cam kissed her hair reassuringly. “It’s a fine line, isn't it?” he asked into her ear. His voice was low and keenly interested, and his breath was warm on her skin. She bit back a moan.
“I have something else I want to start with tonight though,” Amber said, and took out a slim black case. “I know you’re enough of a little slut on an average day to be into this, Belle, but I figured I’d save it for a special occasion.”
She unzipped the case, revealing a slim, surgical steel instrument. It took a moment to register in Belle’s mind what she was looking at. She licked her lips. “Oh.”
It felt as if she was throbbing from the waist down, a chemically induced need that was unlike any she’d ever felt. Amber was right. She could probably be talked into sounding on a normal day, but she was so unbearably horny at the moment she wasn’t sure if that was true or if her perception was just skewed. She could be talked into anything right now, that much was certain.
“Is that safe?” Cameron asked. Belle hardly heard him. Words that weren’t about touching her felt like a waste of time. She had no patience or room for them in her head.
“Mostly.” Amber slipped a new pair of nitrile gloves on. “As long as it’s sterile and you do it right. I’ve done it, just not with her.” Her tone changed back to playful for Belle. “I got you the beginners one, baby, wasn’t that nice of me? Teeny-tiny.”
Belle could only wait impatiently in Cam’s arms as Amber squeezed a generous amount of some lubricant she had never seen before— it came in a small tube and looked surgical grade— onto her fingers.
“Spread those legs. Good girl. It shouldn’t be cold.”
It wasn’t. It was warm, slippery and obscene and oh God, the brush of Amber’s gloved fingers easing her apart and slicking her below her clit— she almost cried at the sudden contact. Every nerve in her body pulsed , thrumming with chemically induced need. She had a feeling she was going to embarrass herself before this was all over— nothing Amber hadn’t seen before, but this was her first time doing anything with Cameron at all.
The thin steel rod looked to her impossibly long. It was nothing like the silicone and plastic toys in the box, brightly colored and enticing. This was intimidating the way surgical instruments laid out gleaming on a table are.
“It is sterile,” Amber mentioned. She looked behind her to make sure she wasn't blocking their view in the mirror. Everything was on display— reflected back to them. Belle’s own face surprised her, cheeks pink and mouth slightly open, her eyes low with lust. Amber slicked the gently rounded tip of the instrument and got close between Belle’s knees.
“Just relax,” she said, and Belle got the impression she was still playing nurse. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”
“No,” Belle breathed. Each and every second since Amber had touched her and then stopped seemed like an agonized minute.
“I’m not going to put even a third of this inside you. Boys can, but not us. It’s still gonna feel like a lot, but I’m gonna make sure it doesn’t hurt you, okay? Do you trust me?”
Belle nodded.
She spread Belle’s lips with her left fingers, began circling the tip of the sound over her urethral opening. Belle whimpered and tried not to squirm. Her body wanted her holes filled, to be fucked, to be touched— yet this was a new and torturously precise sensation she had no frame of reference for. Amber circled the tiny opening deftly, pressing like she was going to penetrate and then letting off. Belle watched in the mirror, salivating with dread and need.
“You want it?” Amber asked, her voice now unselfconscious and thick with lust. “Ask.”
Belle nodded, scared to move her hips with that metal instrument poking at her most delicate parts. “Please. Put it inside me.”
Amber hummed in satisfaction. “Tell me if anything hurts. I’m going to be very delicate.”
Despite the coolness of the metal, it brought a strange, burning stretch the likes of which she’d never felt. She whimpered and resisted the urge to close her knees.
“Good,” Amber praised from between her legs. All she could see in the mirror were those blue gloves and a flash of stainless steel. “So good. Isn’t she doing well, Cam?”
“You’re a lucky girl, Amber,” Cam said. Belle couldn’t help the feeling of pride that tingled over her body.
Amber guided the sound in an inch and stopped to let her acclimate. The burn was bright and then itchy, strange and somehow welcome. She didn’t know if it was the WRU drug or not, but once she got over the initial shock, she was stunned at how good it felt— how illicit and wrong— and how much her body wanted more of it. “Can you… can you fuck me with it?”
Amber glanced up at her, pleased, before delicately fucking the sound inside her urethra. She could see from looking down between her own legs it was only a few inches in, and Amber was only moving it a few centimeters, but it felt like her entire world now. Amber held the sound between her forefinger and thumb and moved it ever so slightly faster, and before she could adjust to the sensation she yelped and felt a tiny warm trickle come out of her and over Amber’s fingers.
“That’s exactly why I put a towel down,” Amber said to Cam, and Belle watched in the mirror as they smiled at each other like co-conspirators. But Amber didn’t stop, almost as if that had been her goal all along, and soon Belle’s drugged, on-fire brain was interpreting the sensation as being fucked, and when Amber used her free hand to slowly brush a finger back and forth over her clit she almost came. Amber noticed and stopped, removing the sound slowly, centimeter by centimeter, until it slipped out of her.
Cam leaned down to whisper in her ear, their eyes locked in the mirror. “That was so fucking hot.”
She smiled at him, relieved. Amber said he’d be into “whatever”, but Belle hadn’t known sounding was on the docket. Amber took off her gloves. “I think Cam should pick your next toy.”
“Can we get her shirt off?” he asked.
Belle sat up and lifted her arms to let him pull it over her head. Her skin was on fire, and even the drag of the fabric over it caused her to shiver. She lay back against him, feeling his shirt against her naked skin. He reached around her sides to gently cup her breasts, his long fingers toying with her nipples so she gasped. They felt as sensitive as if they’d been in clamps, though they hadn’t. It must be the drug working the same way it was on her brain and between her legs.
“Show me how she likes that first one you were telling me about.”
Amber gave her one of her I told you so looks and mouthed “boys love anal,” before pulling Belle’s hips out a little further on the mattress. She adjusted herself to get comfortable on Cam’s lap and he let her before taking hold of her wrists again. She liked doing things with Cam, she thought. She knew she would.
Amber prepped her for the first toy, first with a circling, lubricated finger, then a gently probing one, then replacing fingers altogether with the much larger tip of the toy. She hissed as it pushed past the initial tightness of her muscle.
“Breathe,” Amber reminded her, backing off and starting again, and then it was inside her, and Amber was fucking it into her ass like she had done with the sound in her urethra, and the backwards pleasure of it made her moan and let her head fall back against Cameron. He was getting slowly bolder with her chest, seeing how she reacted to tighter pinches and meaner little tugs to her sore nipples. Without meaning to, she grabbed his wrist to stop him.
Amber tsked.
“It’s the medicine,” she panted. “Sorry. Sorry.”
Cameron was more forgiving of her faux pas than Amber. He gathered both her wrists in one hand and held them above her head by his shoulder. “I’ll be gentler,” he promised, and resumed the slower and softer torment of her nipples with his free hand.
Amber reached for the wand vibrator, a powerful little thing that Belle knew would make her climax in twenty seconds if applied correctly while she was like this. And she was almost right, but Amber moved it away as she got close, leaving her panting and whining. “No! Please?”
“Belle’s such a lady,” Amber said to Cam. “It takes a while to get her to beg, and she’s usually more shy than this. That stuff’s really got you desperate, huh baby?”
Belle nodded, her wrists still immobile in Cam’s grip. Amber never stopped moving the toy in her ass, even when the vibrator wasn’t on her.
“Why don’t you beg for us? You want to come, sweet thing?”
“Yes please,” she whispered, choking inelegantly for a moment on her own saliva. She struggled to sit up an inch. Cam supported her. He stopped tormenting her nipple and trailed his fingers over her ribs, up under her exposed armpit. She shuddered.
“Please what?”
“Please put it back! I’ll do anything you want—” she twisted to look up at Cameron. “Anything either of you want.”
“Look at me while she does that to you,” Cam said, and she did— she kept her neck bent back to look in his eyes as Amber teased her again, just to draw the toy away as she tensed and started to gasp, leaving her with nothing but the toy in her ass, making her need worse.
“No,” she whined, growing desperate. “It hurts. It’s not like normal. Please, just…” the tone in her own voice was making her cringe somewhere in the back of her mind, begging always did, but it was true, and her physical need was unlike any she’d ever experienced. “I just wanna come. Please.”
“Oh no. Was one milliliter too much for you?” Amber asked with mock sympathy— so soft it could be easily mistaken for real concern if Belle didn't know her like she did. “Is it hurting you?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “Please— it— I need to come…you don’t understand…”
Amber clicked the wand back on and pressed it to her clit just how she knew she liked it best. Belle sobbed out loud, catching a glimpse of her tear-bright eyes and splotchy red chest in the mirror. Cam reached down between her breasts and sprawled his hand—so foreign and male on a body that was so used to Amber— on her lower belly. He pressed down gently, changing the way the vibrator hit her throbbing clit so she mewled openly, her whole body tensing— and Amber pulled away.
“No!” She cried openly. “Please put it back. Please, help me.”
“Help you? God, It’s not gonna kill you.”
“Yes, yes it is,” she insisted with such sincerity that Amber and Cam both laughed. Cam saw her tears in the mirror and reached up to carefully wipe them with his thumb.
“Please?” she whispered, letting her head fall back to look upside down at him. “Just let me come, and then you can do whatever you want to me.”
“I can do whatever I want to you anyway,” he said with gentle pity. “And watching you cry is a lot of fun. We’re not even hurting you. We’re just playing with you.”
Even though he was saying cruel, cruel things, she was stimulated just by the sound of his voice, her naked body exposed against his clothed one.
“I bet she could make herself come on your thigh, if you wanted,” Amber suggested, still fucking the dildo into her lazily now. “Don’t you think so?”
Normally that would embarrass her, especially with both of them watching, but she didn’t care anymore. She was beyond humiliation. Amber gently eased the dildo out of her and she grieved its absence. Cam let go of her wrists and she jumped to the opportunity, flipping around and straddling his clothed leg. Amber pulled a little wooden rod from her box of toys and sat back with it patiently.
Belle began to move her hips. The friction of his rough canvas pants was more than enough, she could’ve come from a brush of silk. He sat back on his elbows and watched with a mild smile on his face, eyes roving up and down her body openly. She was without a stitch of clothing; Lady Godiva, or a painting she’d seen of a naked witch sidesaddle on a broom. She could feel herself getting close, her breaths coming fast as she worked herself against his leg. Amber tapped the wooden rod against her backside. She flinched. Cam nodded at Amber to give her more. Measuredly, Amber smacked the rod against her naked calves, the sensitive soles of her feet. She bit back whimpers but did not stop the needy movements of her hips.
“Ask him when you’re ready, not me.”
She looked Cameron directly in the eyes. “Please can I come?” It tumbled out like one word. When he didn't’ reply right away she repeated it like a frantic prayer, which only made him smile more broadly. PleassecanIcome, pleasecanIcome?
“C’mon,” he said quietly, encouragingly. “Show me.”
It was inevitable at this point, she didn’t think she’d be able to stop it if he’d said no. She sobbed in relief and came against his leg. She didn’t think she’d ever come this hard, and she wasn’t even at the mercy of a toy, she was just rubbing herself on his fucking leg like an animal in heat. A drugged, foreign pleasure wracked through her, up and outward from her cunt to her belly. Each wave of it surprised her with its unnatural force, like something that was happening to her body rather than being created by it.
It was hardly finished when they flipped her over. Cam held both her arms down by the elbows this time, securely behind her back, and Amber pressed the wand head tight to her with no preamble or warning. The first orgasm had not yet stopped as another rose and crashed through her, or it revived the first somehow, she didn’t know. She cried out in pleasure that was almost pain but did not struggle—it was still, at this point, the best thing she had ever felt. She loved them both in that moment. She was delirious, senseless. She would’ve done anything for them.
Amber put two fingers in her pussy and curled them, changing the position of the wand on her clit and turning it up higher. She heard the frequency of the vibration change before she even registered it, but when she did she screamed and tried to pull away. Cameron tightened his grip and she knew she was going nowhere.
Amber fucked her relentlessly on her fingers, and she felt herself approaching orgasm again with no chance of recorvery or way to stop it— it wasn’t her body doing it, it was the drug doing it to her body. It was horrifying how it came in waves she couldn’t ward off, and though she was already agonizingly sensitive she came again, and once more, until she was trembling and trying to press her knees together with all the muscle strength left to her.
“Stop!” she begged. “No, no, no. Amber please,” she interjected a sob into last word.
“You said we could do anything you want with you if we let you come. You’ve come a whole bunch by the looks of it. I think you can keep going, little boxgirl mine.”
“N-no!” She struggled to form coherent sentences. “It’s not like- like normal! It’s not the same! Please listen to me. I can’t.”
“How would you know? Do I need to give you another dose?”
“No!” she sobbed. What would that even do to her? Could she physically feel any more pleasure, or sensitivity, for that matter? She felt wrung out, like her nerves were on the outside of her skin. And still Amber pressed the wand tight to her, fucking her so hard on her fingers that it made an obscene sucking sound, and changed the tilt of the vibrator so she felt felt another orgasm tear through her. It didn’t matter that she didn’t want it anymore, didn’t think she could handle it. She could, because of that evil stuff she’d let them put in her body, and they took her shudder and moans of pleasure as evidence that she was handling it.
When she could draw breath to speak she started begging again. “Please! Take it off me! Take it off.. I can’t… I can’t, you don’t know, please make it stop…”
Cameron leaned down and covered her mouth with a kiss. She tried to keep begging and he seemed to get off on it, because he didn’t outright try to stop her. She cried into his mouth. He sucked at her lower lip, her tongue, nipped at her as Amber kept tormenting her. She was coming again when Amber finally stopped, and even though the stimuli was gone she kept spasming through it, as if her body couldn’t do anything in this state but orgasm.
Amber was right next to her, but sounded far away. “You can fuck her if you want.”
Cam stopped kissing her and held her delirious face in his hands. “That so? Can I fuck you, boxgirl?”
She threw her newly freed arms around his neck and nodded, just relieved Amber had taken that hateful toy off her. He went slowly at first, but she was so wet and swollen and used it wouldn't have mattered. She rarely could come just from having something or someone inside her, but the drug made it almost impossible not to, and she twitched and shuddered through yet another climax on his cock before he was even finished himself. He rolled off her when he was done, lying beside her on the mattress. Her whole body thrummed and tingled. Her ears were ringing.
She felt a cool sensation on her arm and looked down to see Amber swiping the inside of her elbow with alcohol. She was holding a new needle, with a new dose.
“What’re you doing?”
“It says not to exceed three milliliters in six hours,” she said in her most velvet voice. “This only makes two.”
Whumper who records the process while the experiment is occuring✨✨✨
Whumper is checking the equipment and medical devices after tying the whumpee down to the operation table. They gaze upon the camera, which is in the corner of the room, and start the voice recording. They plainly state the date, time, whumpee's number, which is determined by whumper when they are captured, and the experiment's subject. Then they inject muscle relaxants in order to hold the whumpee still.
Despite the medications they've taken, whumpee is in excruciating pain. They can't save themselves or even move; they merely cry and scream in pain. Whumper is unable to record their voice properly because of whumpee's wails, so they shush and calm whumpee down with comforting words, caressing their hair and holding their hand. Whumpee is barely fighting the urge to scream; all they can do is sob and whine while clutching whumper's hand tightly.
Whumper leaves whumpee immediately after finishing the experiment to examine the record while whumper is writhing. They notice whumpee's desperate but resigned gaze at them while watching the record.
They thank whumpee for being a good lab rat while treating, headpating, and kissing them.
Whumpee watches whumper for a couple days studying the results of the experiment while they wait for whumper to finish their work on their knees. Whumper randomly asks questions about what they've felt in specific moments and makes them remember the pain they've felt, intentionally or unintentionally.
An IV was pricking their arm and the lights were dimmed. They twitched as their wrist ached from the handcuff binding them to the bed.
"You're awake? I was getting worried about you." Whumper hummed, sitting by their bedside with a large cup of coffee. Whumpee shakily rose their hand as the handcuff clinked.
"This isn't necessary." Whumpee tiredly mumbled.
"My my, you've been awake for ten seconds and already making demands." Whumper chuckled. "But I'm afraid we're not on that level of trust yet, I can get you something for the bruise."
Whumpee tried to sit up, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion.
"I'm a w-wounded prisoner. It's not like I know my w-way around here-" Their voice hitched as their arm gave in as they collapsed. Whumper was quick to pull them up and put a pillow behind their back.
"Easy now, you're still healing. -And don't downgrade yourself, you could still pack a punch, I know how you were trained." Whumper scolded, fixing the blanket around them.
"How could you possibly know that." Whumpee squinted. Whumper ignored their question and waved someone over; they were handed something whumpee couldn't see from the bed. Whumper moved towards them whumpee tried to scamper as far as the handcuff could go.
"Hey! Hey, calm down. It's not going to hurt you." Whumper lulled, placing a plate with a full meal on their lap. "Look, it's just a peace offering."
Whumpee's face flushed with a hint of pink as they lowered their shoulders. Hospitality was the least they expected from their enemy's leader. "You're feeding me?" Whumpee tilted their head.
"Of course I'm feeding you. I saved your life, I'm not going to waste it all by starving you. Gracious, eat your dinner." Whumper scoffed.
"This is dinner? How long did you sedate me?" Whumpee suddenly perked up.
"I didn't sedate you, you were exhausted. That's just how long you slept. Now eat, you'll feel better." They nudged, taking their wrist and putting a plastic fork in whumpee's hand.
"If I didn't know any better," Whumper chuckled, "I would guess your beloved team wasn't feeding you either-"
Whumper felt movement and grabbed whumpee's arm before they attempted to plummet the fork into whumper's neck. They glared at each other as Whumpee was panting and pouring with sweat.
"Sweetheart, that is a plastic fork you're holding." Whumper glared.
"I know. But it's got three sh-sharp points and that's good enough f-for me." Whumpee grunted, still attempting to stab them. Whumper grabbed their collar and yanked them mere inches away. Whumpee pushed and tried to back-peddle as whumper held their collar.
"That was a cute try." Whumper whispered in their ear. "But you don't have the strength to fight just yet, little lamb. Should have eaten first." They plucked the fork out of Whumpee's hand and released them. Whumpee fell back and winced, holding their wound as it pulsed. They could feel the stitches underneath their shirt, staying intact at least...
"You honestly can't believe you'll keep me here like this! I don't want to be here- I'm not your pet to tease!" Whumpee shouted at them.
"You're not my pet. If you want to be that way, then sure; you're like a lamb running for the cliffs that I have to keep pulling you away from." Whumper straightened their jacket and rubbed their neck.
"You're only keeping me alive so you can torture me later, I've told you from the start I won't ever give up my team-"
"-No." Whumper cut them off.
Whumpee suddenly quieted and closed their lips. "... What do you mean no?" They quietly asked.
"I'm not gonna hurt you, your head is so full of lies it sickens me to know what they've taught you! You want to know why I stayed by your side all day? You woke up throughout the night and cried yourself right back to sleep!"
"I wasn't crying!" Whumpee sobbed, covering their face and fell silent. Whumper shut their mouth and leaned back, realizing they had corned them. "I'm sorry. I uh ... I'll give you some space. I'll come check on you later." Whumper quickly stood. They craned their head back to see whumpee was now curled on their side facing away from them.
Whumpee flinched when they heard a "clink" as the handcuff fell off their wrist. It was a feeling of pure light and relief. It was a surprising gesture, even for the stunt they pulled with the now-revoked plastic fork.
This wasn't the ruthless enemy whumpee was expecting; whumper speaks as if they know more about their own team than whumpee does. If they got trusted enough to freely walk around, they would get to find their own answers deep in the core of their enemies base.
ways/methods to torture your fictional character in a medical setting
♡♡♡ for writers to use as an inspiration for their novels/fanfictions only, I’m not a psychopath ♡♡♡
medical whump never fails to give me all the best whumperflies!
trigger warnings: description of abuse, dehumanization, nonsexual nudity and blood
physical restraints (chains, handcuffs, straightjacket, strapping them down to the bed by their wrists and ankles, etc)
I should just mention that straightjacket is one of my personal favorites
electroconvulsive therapy aka shock therapy
force feeding (via a plastic tube through their nose or mouth into their stomach)
shock collar
being forcefully shoved and held down to the ground, cheek against the cold floor
ice pick lobotomy
character getting stripped against their will
strong jets of water assaulting the character’s skin through a hose as a way to clean them
rough handling from the orderlies results in the character getting bruises all over their skin
waterboarding
getting their nails trimmed so they can’t hurt themself or others
character getting put into a hospital gown against their will is so underrated, actually
intubation against the character’s will — bonus if the character is still somewhat conscious
doses of anesthetic into the character’s bloodstream via an injection or through an iv drip to render them unconscious so that they can’t hurt themself or others
when the character is so drugged out of their mind that they’re too groggy to fight or struggle as things are being done to them; they’re half conscious still, they just can’t fight, even though they’re not restrained physically
blood draws — bonus if it gots to the point the character feels dizzy, cold and generally disoriented from losing too much blood
During the healing process, Whumpee needed many things, both for physical and mental healing. What are they?
Rest. Of course. There is no need to explain anymore. A good rest would restore Whumpee's body and mind after all his stress and suffering.
Calmness. From the environment and the people around Whumpee. Apart from the hospital, an isolation house far from the hustle and bustle of the chaotic city would be a good place to support Whumpee's recovery. Maybe a Caretaker's house would be better.
Medical. Medication is consumed to support healing (antibiotics, vitamins, painkillers, etc.). Medical equipment was used during the treatment and healing period. Professional medical personnel will care for Whumpee until he is completely healed.
Foods high in nutrition. Of course, it's easy to digest. Healthy food usually doesn't taste good, but it's the Caretaker's job to make the food able to whet Whumpee's appetite.
Water. There is no need to ask. Hydration is very important for Whumpee's body as it recovers.
Snack. Taking medicine every day definitely makes Whumpee bored. A little snack will help. The cookies, candy, or chocolate that Whumpee eats after swallowing the bitter medicine will make him smile.
Fresh air and morning sunshine. Many people say that fresh air and morning sunlight are also good medicine for recovery. Taking a breath and basking in the cool of the morning would be great for Whumpee.
Clean clothes. Replace every two times a day.
Bathe. Bathing in the morning and evening makes the body fresh and clean. Maybe at first, Caretaker won't immediately pour water but will wipe Whumpee's body with soapy water.
Straighten hair. Maybe cut it when Whumpee starts to get better. Apart from making it look fresher, Whumpee will also feel comfortable.
Comfort items. Plusies, stuffed animals, pillows, blankets, photos, scent, or anything else that can keep Whumpee calm and comfortable during the recovery period.
A change of scenery during recovery will also be helpful. Occasionally moving Whumpee to the living room, sitting him in the dining room, accompanying him on the terrace, or taking him to sit on the grass in the garden will make Whumpee feel better.
Light and pleasant conversation. Don't expect to be able to interrogate Whumpee during the recovery period if you don't want to be shouted at by Caretaker.
Touch. Whumpee is definitely touch-starved. A holding hand, a caress on the cheek, a stroking of the hair, a light kiss on the forehead, a hug, or a backrest when sitting will be what Whumpee really needs.
Calming sentences. Simple sentences that make Whumpee feel safe, such as "It's okay, you're safe", "I'm here", "no one will hurt you anymore", "I will take care of you", "it was just a dream, it's all over", "just rest, don't think about anything", "go to sleep, I'll be here when you wake up", "you did a good job", "I'm proud of you", "thank you for coming back to me," "I'm happy you are here," "I love you," and others.
Caretaker. There is no need to ask. Caretaker is the "medicine" that Whumpee needs most for his healing.
whumpee waking up in a hospital bed, disoriented. at first they think whumper has just moved them somewhere, chained them up in a new room, pumping new drugs into their system. but as they slowly awaken, and nurses come into the room to check on them, they finally realize where they are.
are they relieved to be free? to have painkillers softening the aches of the torture whumper inflicted on them?
or does it feel uncomfortable after they spent so long hidden away, locked up by whumper? do they almost miss the familiar sting of infected, unbandaged wounds?
whumper drugged whumpee with substance that wouldn’t render whumpee completely unconscious, but would make them groggy and defenseless, too disoriented to do anything but lay there and slowly blink with occasional moan as whumper did whatever they wanted to them.
I don’t know about you, but personally this type of forced surrender trope gives me whumperflies every time 🥹
we all love our gagged whumpees, but the way im automatically won over is when the tiny process of whumpee being gagged is described in very careful detail.
pushing the tangled hair out of their face so you can slide the straps under it. maybe it's coated with sweat.
if whumpee is defiant, i love seeing how they toss their head back and how you have to force their mouth open. maybe they bite a few times? very annoying for whumper. but shoving their head back towards you, gripping onto their hair and telling them to cut that shit out...ooh, that's fun.
obedient whumpees are just as fun because they'll just open up for whumper. stick that pretty tongue out and remain still as you clip it behind their head. maybe you can even stroke their hair a little. throw in a 'good boy/girl' for good measure 🙏🙏🙏
then theres the look!! i wanna know what they eyes are doing!! are they glaring straight ahead to avoid looking at whumper, or shooting daggers at them anyway? do they stare at the ground? or is it all listless if they've done this many times before?
and when you're done... i wanna know the result. what kind of gag is it (personally im a sucker for open-mouth) and how does it make em look? are they drooling already? what does whumper have to say about this?
i dont care how unnecessarily long you think you made your gagging scene, we're whump writers we're all here to indulge!! give your whumpee's mouths some love 🫶🫶
Give me whumpees who are shivering so much from their high fever that they can't even hold a bottle of water up to their lips, leaving caretaker to hold it for them like they're bottle feeding a baby animal.
Give me whumpees who've lost so much blood that they're pale and trembling violently, their skin cool to the touch. Their body is desperately trying to keep them warm, but with each new shudder they're just bleeding more and more.
Give me whumpees in shock- whumpees who find out something so emotionally distressing that they can do nothing but shake, eyes fixed on a single point, jolting away from any touch.
There were no search parties, no worried people looking for the whumpee- and the whumper didn’t know what to think about it all. The whumper had been hesitant to hurt the whumpee in the first place- it was their job, but it wasn’t a job they enjoyed. Slowly but surely, the whumper began to care for the whumpee, giving them more food, giving them warm blankets- they didn’t want to hurt someone that had been so hurt already.
Yay, unsolicited advice time! Or, not really advice, more like miscellaneous tips and tricks, because if there's one thing eight years of martial arts has equipped me to write, it's fight scenes.
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Fun things to add to a fight scene (hand to hand edition)
It's not uncommon for two people to kick at the same time and smack their shins together, or for one person to block a kick with their shin. This is called a shin lock and it HURTS like a BITCH. You can be limping for the rest of the fight if you do it hard enough.
If your character is mean and short, they can block kicks with the tip of their elbow, which hurts the other guy a lot more and them a lot less
Headbutts are a quick way to give yourself a concussion
If a character has had many concussions, they will be easier to knock out. This is called glass jaw.
Bad places to get hit that aren't the groin: solar plexus, liver, back of the head, side of the thigh (a lot of leg kicks aim for this because if it connects, your opponent will be limping)
Give your character a fighting style. It helps establish their personality and physicality. Are they a grappler? Do they prefer kicks or fighting up close? How well trained are they?
Your scalp bleeds a lot and this can get in your eyes, blinding you
If you get hit in the nose, your eyes water
Adrenaline's a hell of a drug. Most of the time, you're not going to know how badly you've been hurt until after the fact
Even with good technique, it's really easy to break toes and fingers
Blocking hurts, dodging doesn't
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Just thought these might be useful! If you want a more comprehensive guide or a weapons edition, feel free to ask. If you want, write how your characters fight in the comments!
-As mentioned, if you whack anyone in the nose, even lightly, their eyes will water and their vision will be briefly compromised.
BUT ALSO -If they're not a frequent/trained fighter they will automatically raise both hands to their face and drop their head downward, instinctively, to protect their face. You can use this.
-High kicks are for taekwondo tournaments or that VERY rare moment they're called for. Most people used to fighting won't swing a kick above the waistline because these are easy for another moderately adequate fighter to get under and shove UP. One of my favorite tactics because every dude tries to be Chuck Norris so they learn high kicks but not breakfalls.
Hitting the ground hard enough can end a fight really fast for anyone who doesn't automatically "roll". Breakfalls have to be trained enough to be involuntary, you do not have time to intend to do them, and they're a vital part of scrapping. If you don't have those built into your body's reactions, Mister Floor Is Not Your Friend.
small appreciation post for collapsing while still conscious
ok as much as i love a good faint im also a huge sucker for when a character collapses but is still conscious, maybe just dizzy or weak
stumbling or tripping on something and falling to their knees, too weak to stand up again
weak from fever or low blood sugar and failing to get out of a chair, lying on their back or side while the dizziness subsides (i actually had a fic planned for this at one point)
slumping into a chair because they cant stand anymore
reaching out to a table or wall for support and sliding to the floor (!!!)
sitting on the floor already but they slump to the side out of exhaustion
that thing where they throw their arm across their eyes out of exhaustion or dizziness (honestly one of my favorites)
there are probably a lot more im missing rn so feel free to add on!!
I'm sorry but like. I dont know the meaning of 'whump' or any of its variants but it's so much of a funny word. I keep seeing posts where it's like 'the whumpee' the fuckinh what. 'the whumper'. what kind of silly fun house shit are yall talking about. what.
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