ANOTHER ROUND OF NSFW PROMPTS PLEASE AND THANKS!!!🗣️🗯️📣🔞

Teaching subs to beg is unbelievably hot. The embarrassment, the stuttering, the way they can barely finish a sentence at first. The way their voice gets all soft and desperate. How it starts with them protesting that they can’t until you push them to the point of desperation, until all they can do is whimper please and your name and whatever you tell them to say. How cute and sweet and pliable they are like that.

12

[tw intimate whumper, noncon kissing, noncon touching, conditioning, captivity]

"N-no," Whumpee breathed, muscles locking up in sheer terror and disgust as Whumper leaned in to press a kiss to their cheek. They didn't have the energy — or the courage — to scream about it anymore. They weren't being rude... they were pleading. "Please. I don't– I don't want this, please..."

Whumper moved even closer, completely trapping them against the wall. The best Whumpee could do was turn their head to the side and squeeze their eyes shut, but even that was futile when they were grabbed by the chin, helpless to let their captor position them however they pleased. "Feeling polite tonight?" Whumpee could hear the smirk in their voice without looking.

They would have to swallow the mockery if they wanted to get anywhere.

"Yes, sir." They held their breath, hoping the title came across as sincere instead of the taunt Whumpee wished it could've been. When Whumper didn't hit them, they cautiously opened their eyes, relieved to see them taken aback. "Please?"

It was their last... line of defence? Resort? Lifeline? And frankly, it wasn't much. Relying on the humanity and mercy of a soulless monster who had kidnapped and tortured them for weeks now was a hopeless gamble. But it was all they had: genuine desperation, and a willingness to show some vulnerability.

Whenever Whumpee had put on an act of defiance, Whumper responded in kind, breaking them down brutally and without an ounce of pity. Whenever they had grown too tired to physically protest, their captor had held them and feigned care, cooing and running gentle fingers through their hair. So maybe now that they were being earnest and giving Whumper exactly what they wanted... maybe now, they would consider indulging them just a little. Just for the night.

"You're tired of fighting, aren't you?" Whumper asked softly, moving their hand to cup Whumpee's cheek. "It's understandable. It gets pretty damn tiring, after a while."

Whumpee made a half-hearted attempt to pull away, but one warning glance from Whumper was enough to keep them in line. But they were hopeful. Whumper's tone was almost caring, if they allowed themself to dream a little. "Please, stop touching me. I can't– I can't do this. Not tonight."

"I don't want you to think I don't appreciate this change in attitude. I do." Whumper leaned in for another kiss on the cheek, and Whumpee shivered. "And I can and will reward you for it. But the thing is... I can't reward you by going against everything I expect from you."

No. No, they couldn't– they couldn't– they were being so polite! They were well-behaved! They were honest, they– they'd debased themself appropriately!

Whumpee felt panic rising in their chest as Whumper went in for a real kiss this time, pressing their lips against theirs, slowly and sweetly like it was all consensual. Whumpee placed both of their hands on their captor's chest, not really making an effort to push them away yet. They didn't have the strength; neither physical, nor mental.

"I'm going to reward you by being gentle," Whumper murmured. "And we don't have to do much either. We can take it slow, and I can just show you how it could be, if you were to behave. It doesn't have to be that constant fighting, Whumpee. We can spend a nice night together."

"B-but– but I don't– please, I don't want–"

"Shh, listen to what I'm telling you, love." They placed their own hand on top of Whumpee's, and Whumpee realised they still weren't trying to shove them away. "We're going to spend this night together either way. Because I want to. But it doesn't have to be torture."

Tears were streaming down their face by this point, and they made no move to wipe them away. There was no point. The worst part was how their abused mind jumped at the sliver of comfort the words offered, even though it was less than the bare minimum. It was still a promise of endless coercion and violation.

"Okay," they heard themself say anyway. Their voice was thick with painful resignation, yet light enough that they weren't even sure they'd said it once their mouth had stopped moving. They didn't want to believe they'd said it.

But Whumper smiled, giving them another peck on the lips. "It really can be nice, you know. Even if you don't believe me yet. Let me show you how accomodating I can be, whenever I don't have to worry about you clawing my eyes out."

hi idk if you’ve done a drabble on this but I was wondering if you could maybe do one where whumper is bathing whumpee and is just creepy/ weird overall. ty!

Hi!! Thanks for the ask!!

I've been sitting on this one for a while because I don't really write NSFW and this Whumper kept trying to push me on that 😅

HOWEVER. The two of us (the character and I - yes I negotiate with my ocs) have come to an agreement and we both compromised to make something that I don't dislike.

It dips a lot more NSFW than I've done though, so I'm going to say 18+ for this scene and put it under the cut.

Touch

NSFW - 18+

Go away - don't read this. Just go have a nice day reading another thing.

(tw: very creepy/intimate whumper, noncon touch, noncon bathing, degradation, torture mention, restrained (handcuffs), ableist language)

Whumpee twisted and squirmed against the handcuffs, but they only managed to bite the metal further into their wrists.

Water sloshed as they thrashed - they were sorely surprised they hadn’t slopped too much over the edge of the deep clawfoot tub yet. Maybe it was for lack of leverage. No matter how they kicked and pushed, they couldn’t find purchase on the bottom of the soapy tub - not with their hands locked in place above their head, chain twisted around the pipes at the head of the tub. If they weren’t careful, they’d smash their head into the spout. Again.

They had barely stopped their struggling when Whumper returned, fresh towels draped over their arm. Then Whumpee’s thrashing started afresh.

They snarled at Whumper. “Don’t come near me me - don’t you fucking touch me, you psychopathic-”

Whumpee gasped, sputtering to a stop as water basted down over their face again. They twisted and tugged, trying to get out of the stream, finally managed to tip their face up enough that the most of it went down the back of their head rather than over their eyes and mouth. They gasped for air, chest heaving. The water swayed with their efforts.

Whumper chuckled, then turned the tap off. “I am going to touch you, so you should go ahead and get used to the idea now.”

Whumpee snarled at them. “Don’t you dare - don’t you fucking dare, you-” their mouth snapped shut as Whumper perched on the edge of the tub, dipping the cloth beneath the bubbles. They choked on the anger - voice came out in a small breath of air now as Whumper’s eyes roamed over them. “...don’t.”

“I need to touch you to clean you, silly.” Whumper gave them a quick smile, wringing the water out.

Whumpee’s skin crawled as the droplets pelted onto their bare chest. “N-no, back off, creep!” They squirmed back. Their arms trembled as they pulled up against the faucet as much as they could. They were just grateful for the layer of bubbles that shielded the most of their body.

It didn’t help. They gasped, jolting back as Whumper’s hand dipped under the water. The flowing cloth ghosted across their hip.

“Nnghh - stop! Fuck, get off me!”

Whumper laughed quietly at that, dragging the cloth along their stomach, then slowly - so fucking slowly - up their chest. “Why would you want me to stop? You made such a mess before. I need to get all this blood off of you.”

Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut, squirming impossibly further against the back of the tub. It bruised against their shoulders, digging into lash marks that striped across their spine. They had mostly healed, but fuck if it didn’t still hurt. Still, they pulled back as far as they could.

Whumper started working the cloth in torturously slow circles against their ribs, curling their arm under the surface of the water to work. Whumpee arched their back, trying to use whatever space they had to get the touch off of them.

A squeak wormed its way up Whumpee’s throat as the cloth pressed against a deep, aching bruise at the side of their ribs.

Whumper chuckled. “Aww, is that sore?” They dropped the cloth, preferring to use their fingertips to trace the bruising, exploring and pressing in until Whumpee gasped.

“You poor thing. You’re all black and blue. What sort of monster would do this to you?”

Whumpee grit their teeth, pulling in on themself as Whumper kneaded the cloth deeper into a sore spot. A hiss of air slid through their gritted teeth as they thrashed again. “Fuck - s-stop! Stop! Get off me you fucking psychopath!” They tried to kick up at Whumper, but couldn’t find the leverage while they were keeping their legs pinned together so tightly.

Whumper grinned, eyes flicking up to meet Whumpee’s. “You’re so cute when you talk like that - but I’m going to have to ask you to stop.”

Whumpee glared up at them. “Why don’t you stop fucking touching me, and we can- mmph!”

Whumpee sputtered back as Whumper shoved the cloth in their mouth, prying it in deeper and deeper between the molars until Whumpee’s jaw ached. They thrashed their head from side to side, but Whumper managed to push it in place, murmuring as they went. “You’re so unnecessarily chatty. I don’t need your mouth for this. I just need you to behave.”

Whumpee's skin crawled as Whumper's fingers gripped their jaw. They squeezed their eyes shut and tucked their face to the side - into the shelter of their arm - but Whumper dragged it back to center. Their thumb - still wet from the water - made long, slow strokes across their cheek. "Pathetic," they murmured. "You can't fight this. So why try?"

Whumpee bit down further into the rag, silently begging for the touch to stop. It didn't.

A slight, tingling burn filled their mouth as the soapy water leeched out of the cloth.

Whumper's grip loosened. They brushed a thumb over Whumpee's strained lip. “You do look cute like this. But now I don’t even have a rag. How selfish of you.” They were biting back a smile as their fingers skimmed back down to Whumpee’s collarbone. “I guess I'll have to use my hands instead.” Their hand dipped back into the water.

Within moments, Whumpee was kicking back again. They jolted, curling their legs up as Whumper’s hand slipped further down.

Whumper laughed at that. “You’re going to make me chain your ankles too, aren’t you?" They paused. "Actually…on second thought, that could be fun.”

Whumpee’s muscles were already quaking with the effort of keeping their legs pulled up so tightly. They hoped their useless whimper got lost in the gag. If it didn’t, Whumper didn’t seem to mind.

“Go on, keep fighting me.” They trailed a finger up Whumpee’s thigh. “Give me a reason to break you.”

.

tags: I'm not tagging people for this because some of yall don't have ages in your bios and I'm not tagging you for NSFW anything - if you wanna read this, find it on your own 😅

"Mmmph- mmph!"

Whumper grinned up at Whumpee from their spot in between Whumpee's legs. Gentle fingers fiddled mindlessly with the buckle of their captive's belt, threatening to undo it at any moment.

"What's wrong, sweet thing?" they teased. "Don't wanna show yourself? Even to your dear old master?"

There were some more muffled screams from behind the gag; desperate and frightened. The terror in their eyes was something else, Whumper nearly couldn't get enough of it.

Finally, they decided they were finished teasing and unbuckled Whumpee's belt, easily pulling it out from around their waist. Afterwards came the knife down the center of their shirt, exposing their stomach and chest whether their captive liked it or not.

"You really are perfect, Whumpee," they whispered as they let their head come to rest on Whumpee's lap. Despite not having any eyes on them now, they could feel them fighting against the restraints holding them against the chair. "You have the sweetest tummy... perfect as a makeshift pillow - and what about these gorgeous thighs? So soft and warm!"

To emphasise their point, they buried their face in between Whumpee's bare legs and began to run their hands up and down the poor thing's trembling thighs, licking and nipping at the skin there. They were perfect. Everything Whumper had ever wanted.

Now, they just had to make Whumpee theirs for good.

You're pathetic, and making a mess on my leg. Isn't it humiliating? I know we don't let you touch yourself anymore, but still. The pathetic little slut needs to get off that badly? Put on a show and I'll think about it.

whumper using victim blaming dialogue as a humiliation tactic—

“well I wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t make it so fucking easy.”

“if you weren’t so pretty when you begged and cried.”

“if you didn’t take abuse so well.”

“I just hit you and you whine like that— I mean, what am I supposed to think?”

“you know you deserve this.”

“go on, tell me you deserve it.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

and who knows— eventually, whumpee might start to believe they’re right

.

[shoutout to @unorganisedalienrubbish for coming up with like half of these]

Tips about how to write a character living with trauma

Sometimes you forget what you’ve been through isn’t normal, so you slip up about a traumatic thing that happened and only realize it’s weird when people look at you, disgusted

You always have nightmares. Even if it’s not about the traumatic thing (more about PTSD nightmares here)

Everyone breaks differently and trauma changes you entirely. You may become unrecognizable once people break through your facade

You’re still you, tho, but you’ve just changed so much

You ask yourself constantly if it really happened. If it really was that bad. You only have memories of memories, the more time passes, the less you remember the moment it actually happened

Leaving the house becomes a daily challenge. It’s hard and scary, and who knows what’s waiting for you out there

You may become paranoid. There’s cameras in your room, there’s people in your house, there’s people waiting for you to go out so they can kidnap you, etc

Everyone seems different to you

Every little joke, every little comment people pass on something related to your trauma feels like a bullet in your stomach

Triggers are weird. Coffee tables can become a trigger. Blue eyes. White jacket. Such small meaningless things can send you spiraling down a panic attack and wishing for death

People rarely try to understand. People don’t ask questions. They just wait for you to get over it. But you don’t

Everyone becomes impatient with you. Even professionals. Your therapist might fire you, your friends might call you annoying for flinching, etc

There’s always people that will mock your triggers and trigger you on purpose. Always

Being free is extremely weird when you’re not used to it. You don’t know what to do with yourself

There’s a lot of chances you will develop a personality disorder when going through intense trauma

A lot of people will pressure you to forgive. It only makes things worse

PTSD never goes away. You can work on it, conquer some of your triggers, but it still stays. It doesn’t magically go away once you get cared for

You never believe anyone that says that they’re in love with you. It’s definitely a joke, a cruel cruel joke

You don’t trust anyone. You second guess each of their words

People that are overly happy are suspicious

You’re always tense, though you may not realize it anymore

You’re terrified of relaxing or just not being constantly anxious. What if something bad happens once my guard is down?

Every social interaction is terrifying. You don’t know how to read people, you don’t understand hidden meanings, you don’t dare to assume anything anymore

You might become materialistic. Clinging to every object you find. You can’t let go of anything

You’re terrified of appearing weak

You might develop a superiority complex or even a god complex as a way to cope with having felt inferior for so long

You will be blamed for your trauma. You will be asked why you talk about it so much, why didn’t you do anything to save yourself, why you didn’t fight back, etc

Some people like to make you flinch. It makes them feel stronger than you

You will trigger yourself on purpose to get used to it (reading things with your triggers, watching movies/videos, etc)

You will make your pain worse to get used to it (hitting yourself on bruises you already had, pinching a cut to make more blood flow, etc)

You don’t care if you live or die anymore

You can’t cry, but you always feel like crying. Tears just never come out

You might punish yourself without even realizing it (forcing yourself to take cold showers, burning yourself, etc)

You don’t realize you’re being self destructive and when people mention it you get mad because it’s just how you are now and they should just leave you be

Flashbacks can happen really randomly. You can just be vibing and the boom you remember something horrible that happened

I wrote as much as I could remember at the time, if you have anything else don’t be shy to add it! I you have corrections or other perspectives please share them! Those are all from personal experience so of course they’re biaised, but I made them as neutral as possible!

flag id: a flag with 7 stripes, which are medium dark indigo, faded blue, light sky blue, white, light yellow, soft orange, and red-pink. end id.

banner id: a 1600x200 teal banner with the words ‘please read my dni before interacting. those on my / dni may still use my terms, so do not recoin them.’ in large white text in the center. the text takes up two lines, split at the slash. end id.

binatranonbin: identifying as a binary gender in an inherently nonbinary way due to being trans

[pt: binatranonbin: identifying as a binary gender in an inherently nonbinary way due to being trans. end pt]

for anon! the purple and yellow are adjusted from the nonbinary flag and the blue and pink and adjusted from the trans flag. i made the nonbinary and binary trans colors fade into each other to represent the inherent nonbinarity of one's binary gender. the term is 'bina' from 'binary', 'tran' from 'trans', + 'nonbin' from 'nonbinary'!

tags: @radiomogai | dni link

Stockholm Syndrome Prompts

All those little whumpees who slowly forget why they're fighting. Gradually learning to love their whumper.

.

"You know I have to punish you for this, right? I'm sorry. I don't want to. I hate to see you cry...but it's the only way you'll learn."

Whumpee slowly gaining privileges the better they behave. It's easier if they just obey.

Nightmares. Whumpee dreaming of Whumper hurting them. They scream and thrash, waking up to Whumper holding them close. "Shh...it's okay. It was just a dream. I'm not going to hurt you..." Whumpee almost believes it.

Whumpee looks tense, so Whumper gives them a massage.

Whumpee's favorite foods. Always.

"Why are you still thinking about them? All you need is me."

Soft kisses and gentle touch.

"You are so amazing. No one ever appreciated you, did they? They didn't stop long enough to really look."

Constant bondage. Whumpee needs to rely on Whumper for every single thing. Every bite of food. Sip of water. Bathing. Everything they need only comes from Whumper's hands.

"What would you do without me? Really. Go back to them? Back to a life of stress an expectations? Isn't this better?"

New clothes. New hair. New everything. Whumpee starts to forget who they are.

"I told you you'd warm up to me."

That first time that Whumpee leans into Whumper's touch. Probably after a punishment. They're so tired. And Whumper is so warm and kind. They just...drift...

"Isn't this better?"

Whumper only un-gags Whumpee if they 'use their nice words'. Once Whumpee tries to snap at them, beg for Whumper to let them go, or say anything that suggests they don't want to be there, Whumper shoves the gag back in so they can 'think it over and try again later'.

"Can...can you stay with me? Just a little longer." "Of course, darling."

Whumper hand-feeding Whumpee. The intimacy and the trust they have to partake in if they want to eat.

"Tell me you love me. Say it."

Whumper who brands their Whumpee. Whumpee knows they'll never be the same again - they'll always be marked.

"There we go. Isn't 'please' so much nicer to say than 'no'?"

When they stop hesitating to say it.

"No...no please." "Shh...this will help you sleep. I won't leave you, I promise."

Whumper pulling Whumpee close, holding them tight as they try to struggle away. Gently petting their hair and humming until Whumpee's thrashing slows to a stop. They give into the embrace, sobbing into Whumper's shoulder.

"You don't need to think. I'll do that for you. You just rest."

Whumper breaks Whumpee's legs so Whumpee has to rely on them for everything. Thought of escape seem impossible.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice? You can't lie to me. I know everything about you."

Whumpee vaguely remembers that they used to fight. They used to kick and scream and spit. They just can't remember why.

.

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @jadeocean46910 @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @lav-whumps @wormwriting)

creative things to restrain your whumpees with: a thread

I NEED IDEAS! reblog this with your ideas...

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@painsandconfusion @galactic-whumpee @awfulwhumpsideblog @lav-whumps @esperosisdoeswriting