Prompt (568)

Holy Jesus Christ In Hell WHAT IS THIS BEAUTIFUL THING 😲

My touch burns? Oh, no, Father, I'm so sorry. Do you want me to stop...? No? Of course you don't. Shh, shh. It's alright. Does it hurt when I press myself against your back? No? Oh, don't squirm like that, Father, don't be afraid.

I'm cleansing you of your sin. My hand around your cock is helping relieve you of everything pent up inside of you. See how you're already spilling into my hand, and how your hips shake? Of course it burns, it's like putting alcohol on a wound. It's only to purify. No more build up, no more desires, just let go and let me help you.

Your voice is so sweet, Father. You sing your hymnals so beautifully during service, of course your moans carry as well. Shh, shh, let me draw your desperation out of you. That's it. That's it.

Cry for God all you want. He can hear you. He knows you're on the path to righteousness. All it takes is you cumming in my hand and your vision going white. Really, quite easy if you asked me. Then my touch won't burn anymore. You'll be clean.

Whump ABC #23 - Whipped

Based on the results of this poll.

_

Whumpee's hands shake from pain and exhaustion and henchman rips their shirt apart, revealing their back. Exposed to whumper, whumpee closes their eyes when they hear them walk closer.

Warm hands touch their cold skin, leaving goosebumps on their way. They hear whumper scoff, who bows down so their mouth is right next to whumpee's ear.

"Your old scars will be nothing against what is about to follow," they coo and walk back again, whumpee bracing themself for the pain that comes with the crack of the whip.

The burning sensation makes them grunt, but it's not enough to make them scream. Again and again, the thundering crack rings in whumpee's ears, hot blood running down their back now.

Whumpee's body shakes from pain, their mind racing, wanting it to stop. Barely holding onto consciousness, whumpee coughs and closes their eyes. The whip licks at their skin another time.

Groping is just better when it's humiliating and disrespectful and hedonistic. Pushing you against a wall and covering your mouth while I grab at your chest. Forcefully spinning you around and bending you over so I can get a better grip on your ass. Pulling your hair to force your head back so I can wrap my hand around your neck. Slapping you across the face while I explore the inside of your thighs. Invading your personal space, stripping you of your dignity and autonomy, until you're my dumb, needy grope slut, begging me to use you.

Teen Wolf s3 x 1

Daniel Sharman | Isaac Lahey

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)

If you'd like your work to be featured on this page, please tag this account, @medwhumpmay , and use the tag 'medwhumpmay2025'

When tagging, please use the appropriate whump tag e.g 'seizure whump' instead of just 'seizures'. This avoids clogging important tags with whump content.

Have fun!

If you need any clarification, please feel free to send in an ask or reply to this post and I'll do my best to get back to you.

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

Happy whumping ❤️

- @whumpetywhumpwhump

Stoic Whumpee who grips Caretaker’s (or Whumper’s) clothing in white-knuckled fists and teary eyes when they are physically unstable and can’t stand on their own

That’s all folks!

Less Than

Warnings: dehumanization, degradation

"You are completely useless," the Handler chided as the weapon prostrated themself at the Handler's feet. "Boss gave you one job and you can't even do that right. One simple job. You are a useless waste of space."

"Yes, Handler. Of course, Handler. A waste of space," the weapon repeated. They tried to make themself as small as possible. Tried to make the Handler see how sorry they were for failing. Tried to do anything to avoid punishment.

"As far as weapons go, you are the least useful. Weapons are lesser beings of course, but you," the Handler sneered, "you are the worst of them all. I have half a mind to throw you away."

"Please," the weapon begged, "don't throw me away. I will be better. I can be better. I promise. Please, Handler."

"Then prove yourself worthy," the Handler said coldly. "Finish what Boss ordered you to do and I won't throw you in the trash. You aren't a soldier. You aren't a human. You are a weapon. And you better make yourself useful. Useless weapons are to be discarded for better ones."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @piplupfluffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@pepeniascat @sowhumpful @whump-till-ya-jump 

Aesthetic: Bear Trap

The slightest shift of pressure, a brief moment to think ‘oh shit’, before steel jaws slam shut against skin and bone and muscle and sinew.

A flash of unbearable agony as the excruciating pain starts, as they stumble and fall to one knee, as fingers hover over razor-sharp edges and breathing grows shallow.

Maybe they’re running from something, from whatever the trap was meant for.

Maybe they’re running from someone, a glinting smirk as footsteps slow to a casual saunter.

Fingers yanking fruitlessly at spring-coiled metal, low sobs, frequent glances over their shoulder to track their enemy getting closer and closer and closer.

Trapped like prey.

Prompt #4

Villain gripped Hero's collar in their fists, eyes burning, cheeks stained with tears.

"I. Fucking. Hate you." Their voice was low, full of hurt and loathing.

Hero stared up into the face of their nemisis - their friend - with wide eyes. They swallowed the lump in their throat, guilt burning in their blood. "I...I'm sorry-"

"Sorry?" Villain laughed and their voice cracked. "Oh, no. No, no, you're not sorry." They gripped the fabric of Hero's shirt tighter, pulling them close enough for their noses to touch. "You're not sorry," Villain murmured. "But you will be."

day 1: scar reveal

@medwhumpmay

content: argument, scar reveal, rejection

“What is that?” 

Whumpee froze, mid-motion, shirt half-pulled off their body. They slowly turned around, facing a Caretaker that looked like they’d both rather be anywhere else and yet unable to actually move. They let go, and the fabric fell back down, over the gnarly scar that ran the length of their torso. “What’s what?” they asked with an awkward chuckle. Caretaker didn’t seem to be in on the joke.

“Whumpee, what is that?” 

“I, I don’t know what you mean. It’s just me. It’s always just been me.” Please don’t let this change anything. Please, let’s go back to how we were. Please, please, please.

Caretaker slowly walked into the room, right up to Whumpee. They reached out, stopping before their fingers could’ve brushed against their shirt. “May I see?” 

Whumpee stepped back. Caretaker lowered their hand. “It’s not just you, it’s… everyone. I don’t… go around showcasing it.”

“That much is evident. We’ve been living together for what, four years? And I’ve never… Gosh, Whumpee, I never… never once…”

“This doesn’t have to change anything,” they cut in. 

“How could it not?” they asked in turn, before they let out a deep sigh, running a hand down their face. “How could it not?”

“Just don’t let it!” Whumpee snapped. “Just— Just pull yourself together and stop looking at me like I’m some sort of freak!”

“You could’ve told me!” they snapped right back. “You could’ve told me instead of letting me find out like this! I thought we meant something to each other! I thought I was worth more than— than this.”

“I told you, it’s not you, it’s everyone!”

“Am I just like everyone to you?” 

Whumpee stopped in their tracks, the vicious attack dog inside them cowering like a kicked puppy at the question. They almost whimpered, too. “I… No, Caretaker, it’s not that… I would’ve told you eventually…”

“You wouldn’t have.” They sighed again. “You wouldn’t have.”

Whumpee stayed quiet. Caretaker ran a hand through their hair, turning away. The guilty silence more than confirmed their assumption. 

“Fine,” they said eventually, when Whumpee didn’t say anything. “Keep your secrets. Keep me at a distance, if you want. You know what? Maybe I don’t want to be close to you either.” With that, they left the room, not turning around to see the tears trickling down Whumpee’s face.

~

@whumpsday