Parental Whumper Who Has Underlings. People Who Hold Whumpee Down, Tie Them Up, Even Punish Them For

Injury Prompt #1000

Knocked on the floor

Hghghg thought of the Concept last night of a character being rescued from imprisonment/torture; beaten to a pulp, completely out of it, and scared. They don't immediately recognize the person sent to save them, and thus in their delirious state try to fight them off thinking they can only be another tormenter. But they're so, so weak, their attempts little more than clumsy, shaky lashings out.

Instead of restraining them or hurting them like Whumpee expects, their rescuer gently unfolds their trembling fist, and holds their hand.

TW: MEDWHUMP/MEDICAL LANGUAGE

Welcome to Medwhump May 2025! This challenge was a success last year so I'm back here again for round 2!

RULES:

No AI-generated content

For completionists, you must fill in a prompt for all 31 days, whether this is the daily prompt or one of the alt prompts. The timeframe for completion doesn't matter (i.e whether you fill all 31 prompts in one day, or take a few months)

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Have fun!

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Thanks to everybody who submitted their prompts, and please reblog for reach!

Happy whumping ❤️

- @whumpetywhumpwhump

The flutter in my chest that I get when I envision suffocating someone with a pillow, watching them thrash around against my strength.

It can't possibly be normal but I just can't get enough.

– Swan 🦢 he/they/it/shx/she

drunken confessions prompt list

when too much alcohol loosens their tongue

🌀 leaning heavily on your shoulder, they slur, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to kiss you,” and you freeze, unsure if they mean it or if it’s just the alcohol talking.

🌀 they’re giggling uncontrollably, cheeks flushed, when they suddenly blurt out, “you know, you’re the only person who makes me this happy.” the laughter fades, replaced by an earnest gaze that’s hard to dismiss.

🌀 stumbling over their words, they confess with a shy grin, “i think about you all the time.” their eyes widen like they didn’t mean to say that out loud, but there’s no taking it back now.

🌀 sitting together in the dim light of the bar, they lean in close and whisper, “i’ve been in love with you for ages.” you almost laugh it off, until you see the serious look in their eyes, even through the haze of alcohol.

🌀 drunkenly grabbing your hand and holding it against their chest, they mumble, “my heart always does this around you, you know.” you can feel the unsteady rhythm beneath your fingertips.

🌀 they’re rambling on about nothing in particular when, out of nowhere, they look at you and say, “i would give up anything just to see you smile every day.” it catches you so off guard that you don’t know how to respond.

🌀 as you’re helping them get home, they rest their head on your shoulder and murmur, “i’m not drunk enough to lie about loving you.” the words are soft and slurred, but the sincerity in their tone is unmistakable.

🌀 they keep repeating your name over and over, like they’re savoring the sound, before letting out a dreamy sigh and admitting, “i wish you knew how much i care.”

🌀 after a few too many drinks, they look at you with bleary eyes and say, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” there’s a hint of desperation in their voice, like they’ve been holding onto that truth for too long.

🌀 as they sway slightly on their feet, they confess, “i’d do anything for you.” you laugh and brush it off, but they shake their head stubbornly, grabbing your hand to make sure you’re listening.

🌀 they stumble closer, eyes half-lidded and voice soft, saying, “you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like this.” their fingers graze your arm, like they need the contact to stay grounded.

🌀 leaning in a little too close, they confess with a shaky laugh, “i don’t want you to ever be with anyone else.” the words come out rushed, like they’ve been bottled up for far too long.

🌀 slurring slightly, they admit, “i thought i could get over you.” there’s a hint of sadness in their gaze as they meet your eyes, like they’re realizing the truth for the first time.

🌀 as they’re drifting off on the couch, they grab your hand and mumble, “promise me you’ll stay.” their grip tightens slightly, like they’re afraid you’ll let go if they don’t hold on.

The bidding to choose Whumpee's death had been raging hard for seven days. Now, the countdown to closing was at an end. They strained at their bonds. It was as useless fighting it now as it had been from the beginning. Whatever the rich bastards who won this auction wanted to do to them, they would do. There was no stopping it.

But when Whumper read the email from the winner to themself, the look on their face was one of revulsion - and that terrified Whumpee more than anything that they had seen or heard so far.

"Well," Whumper said, grimacing. "There's no accounting for taste."

Two henchmen came in and Whumpee was unbound for the first time in over a month. Not for long. They were dragged kicking and screaming toward a flat table, strapped on their back to the surface and left helpless once again.

They wailed piteously as Whumper strolled over, a thin rag in one hand and a large, opaque jug in the other.

Whumpee started to sob. They should never have let slip that their fear was suffocation, never because they knew what this meant. They were going to be waterboarded. Drowned where they lay, and because of the cloth, Whumper could do that to them as many times as they wanted.

"Please," Whumpee whimpered. "Please don't waterboard me, please, I-"

Whumper shook their head. "This isn't water."

Whumper popped the cap on the jug and the smell that hit Whumpee's nostrils was unmistakable.

Vanilla extract.

Fucking love defiant whumpees who are all bark and no bite, especially when they kick up such a fuss with their whumper, spitting venomous words and promises that they'll never submit...

And all it takes for the cool, level-headed whumper to call their bluff and threaten them with a knife to the throat before whumpee is like a kicked puppy with their tail between their legs, a humiliating reveal to their true self that whumper can't help but rub in

Prompt (570)

The hero shivered in the cold, bundled up in a coat. Their ride was supposed be here a half an hour ago. Out of the blue, a lone taxi pulled up to the curb.

“Need a ride?” The driver asked.

The hero knew that voice. They peeked inside. The villain.

“Not a chance in hell,” the hero hissed. “Get out of here.”

“Come in,” the villain said. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Should I start listing things?”

“Come on. The snow’s about to start.”

The hero looked up. The sky was a concerning shade of grey. Freezing to death, or an unpleasant car ride. They briefly weighed their options.

“Fine,” the hero conceded.

They got right in the passenger seat and reached for a control knob. “But I choose the music.”

sci-fi corporal punishment: stasis

- victim is given cuffs or a collar that effectively freezes them in place. They still feel the passage of time, and will still feel anything that happens to them

- victim is then placed in a public location (city square, atrium in a shopping area, central office, etc) and left in the hands of passersby

- their crimes are holographically projected from the cuffs/collar to alert everyone of the severity. Despite this, even petty crimes are often met with great force from passing strangers

- it is legal to shield victims. Kind strangers or loved ones may stand sentry around them, but must be wary of using force, lest they end up in the same position

- sentences cap out at 48 hours, but multiple sentences may be consecutively served with a day's break in between

- more severe offenses sometimes see the victim stasified in an isolated location, which is then broadcast to the public. This is meant to encourage anyone who was hurt by the victim to seek retribution away from the public eye, but it often leads to more extreme injuries on the victim, dealt by strangers who no longer fear the shame of a crowd

- anonymous mercenary groups can be hired to protect a victim---or hurt them

- the victim's eyes are always closed before stasis. This is to preserve their sight and reduce damage. It also means they never see what's coming.

tw: drugging

a defiant whumpee trying to claw at whumper’s arms in protest as their body reacts to the sedative that was just injected into them. they can only muster aggravated, painful groans and whimpers as whumper cards a hand through their hair.

“shh, my love… don’t fight it,” they whisper, guiding their captive to lay back down.