holidayinhell

[holidayinhell]

What are your thoughts on major character death in whump?

I eat it up like skettios but lack the courage to personally kill my Whumpees and Whumpers.

[holidayinhell]

Do you have any advice for someone who wants to start writing and posting whump stories?

1- start a sideblog dedicated to your creations. for me, the separation really helps me feel more expressive. it's impossible to share the stories you love to write if you feel any kind of shame when you publish it. be confident!

2- read a lot.

3- write a lot. but more importantly, challenge yourself to finish what you write. this is the hardest thing to do!

if you're someone that has a million and a half ideas, record them as bullet points. try to resist the temptation of fleshing things out until you've already finished some of your WIPs. it takes discipline.

4- stay organized. make separate folders for your inspiration, drafts, and completed works. I also separate my folders out by genre, ex: Captivity Whump, Failed Escape Whump, Prompt Ideas, Published Work, etc.

it helps. trust me.

5- take inspiration from EVERYTHING, from the things you read to the things that you experience in real life. sometimes I'll overhear a snippet of a conversation, "There's no water or anything." , "Think about everything I've just said. Think about it." , "Why didn't you call 911?!" -- you can transform mundane, random lines into some spicyyyyy stuff and build entire stories around it.

be observant in real life and bring it back to your story. take notes when inspiration strikes! and when you're writing make sure you use descriptive language that helps you build a gorgeous visual. verbs matter, too. it's definitely worth the time to figure out what verb best conveys the actions you're trying to illustrate.

so yeah, this has been my lil recipe for success thus far :~)

hope it helps in any way. happy writing!

[holidayinhell]

I know you said you have a lot of wip’s but whenever you get around to it,,, a prompt:

impulsive whumper getting too into the moment, to the point where they go too far and do something truly disturbing and sickening. They do things that are sickening to normal people all the time, but they finally cross the line and do something that is sickening to themself.

tws: gore

“Hey.”

Whumper’s voice barely registered. Whumpee didn’t lift his head.

Whumper inched closer, the wreckage of the other man’s face snapping into focus. He didn’t want to see it-- but there it was. A hundred times worse than he’d remembered. He knelt down, carefully placing the bowl of lukewarm soup on the floor by Whumpee’s foot.

“Kill me. Just kill me.” He moaned.

Whumper reached for the broken man, trying to guide his hand to the bowl. Whumpee didn’t follow. Instead, he gripped Whumper’s hand and squeezed it hard.

“I can’t live like this.” The words tumbled out frantically. Then louder: “Please. Kill me. Kill me.”

Whumper shifted awkwardly. He was speechless. 

What was left to say? ‘I’m sorry’?

He’d warned Whumpee this would happen. Whumpee was the one who provoked him, dared Whumper to go further.

But fuck.

He really didn’t have the stomach for this kind of shit.

“Stop. Stop it! Don’t touch it like that…”

“Kill me!” Whumpee’s hands flew to his face, scratching at the mess where his eyes had been. 

“I’ll wrap it up. Just stop rubbing—!”

The empty sockets were bloody and raw,  Whumpee’s eyelids hung like shredded paper. Whumpee couldn’t feel where the lids began or ended. Just blood. Just heat. He clawed at the emptiness.

Whumper was horrified. He didn’t know what to do.

Out of instinct he straddled Whumpee, forcing him to the ground. What the fuck else could he do? Whumpee screamed, but didn’t fight back. The handcuffs clicked shut behind his back.

Whumpee writhed beneath him, kicking helplessly, sobbing into the floor. 

Whumper watched him struggle for a while. When the restraints held, Whumper thought to himself, good.

Whumper stood. His hands shook.

He thought this kind of cruelty would take effort. 

It hadn’t. That’s what scared him more than anything else.

He slammed the door and didn’t look back.

(more whump)

[holidayinhell]

Hey I just wanna say that I loved ur laundry room one-shot! Im so curious to why whumper took away the tv, books, magazines, and tv from whumpee. Im so excited to see more of ur writing!

glad you liked it :) I’m so glad you’re curious bc I actually put some thought into this!

I added the detail of Whumper taking away the tv, books and such to symbolize the change of his treatment towards Whumpee over time. at first, Whumpee was treated almost like a houseguest. but by the time the story begins, he’s living his entire life chained to a pole like some forgotten dog.

the longer Whumpee is held captive, the less enamored Whumper is with him. he is no longer an object of affection. other him ‘servicing’ Whumper (and doing his laundry), he’s a burden. a liability.

so, over the duration of the captivity, Whumper stopped viewing Whumpee as a human being.

(and I mean it’s also good to keep Whumpee away from the news at all costs.)

[holidayinhell]

cws: noncon (18+ only), humiliation

He should’ve gone to the police after he found the bodies. Whumpee knew that.

But he didn’t-- because desperate fucking people don’t get to choose to be the good guy. 

He wasn’t a criminal. He just needed the money. It was the only reason he’d ever gotten tangled up with Whumper in the first place.

He needed that money.

And he wasn't the type to blackmail anyone, let alone someone like Whumper.

Especially not now, after finding out the truth about him. Whumper wasn’t just dangerous—he was a serial killer. The kind you didn’t try to threaten, or outsmart, or piss off. Not if you wanted to stay breathing.

And he’d tried to blackmail him.

He’d tried to blackmail a fucking serial killer.

Even if he somehow made it through whatever Whumper planned to do with him, his life was fucking over. His lenders would come after him. His debts were outrageous. The hole was too deep.

Why did I do it? Whumper was always a step ahead of him. Even in school he’d always been faster, smarter.

That’s how he was able to get away with killing so many people. That’s why he slipped through the cracks.

And that’s why Whumpee worked for Whumper, and not the other way around.

Whumper had always owned him in ways he could never escape.

A wave of shame crashed over him as he crawled naked across the cellar floor.

He knelt back, sitting on his ankles, breath trembling. This was the lowest point of Whumpee’s life. And he felt every inch of it—every regret, every stupid choice that led him to this moment.

“That’s a nice look on you.” Whumper took his foot to the back of Whumpee’s head, lowering his face until his chin hit the floor. “What would you call it?”

Whumpee turned his head slightly, showing some resistance, but Whumper shoved his foot down harder, mashing the rubber sole against his ear.

“Shame?” Whumper mused.

Whumpee bit back his curses between gritted teeth.

“Humiliation?”

Whumpee didn’t answer, shifting uncomfortably as he tried to move his head.

“Or, I know.” He gave a soft chuckle. “Despair.”

Whumper pulled his foot away, and Whumpee sluggishly sat up, crossing his legs with his head still bowed to the concrete. His eyes stayed fixed on the filthy floor, refusing to look up.

“I’ll kill you.” Whumpee muttered under his breath, only loud enough for him to hear.

“Once it starts, I’m not gonna stop, Whumpee.” The man went to the corner of the room, gathering something from a tattered cardboard box.

“I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll kill you…” Whumpee repeated to himself over and over, the bitter chant soothing his nerves. He must’ve said it a hundred times before Whumper’s hand shot out, digging his finger into his chin. He yanked Whumpee’s face up to meet his cold, cruel eyes.

“What’s that?” Whumper sneered. “You wanna kill me?”

His eyes gleamed as he leaned in closer. “You think you’ve got it in you to be a killer, Whumpee?” He mocked. “Psht. You’re barely holding yourself together as it is. And that’s without any blood on your hands.”

“Fuck you,” Whumpee spat.

Without hesitation, Whumper slammed the heel of his boot into the man’s chest. Whumpee toppled backwards, spine hitting the cold floor so hard it knocked the breath from him.

Whumper was on top of him in a second, straddling his waist like a predator going in for the kill. 

“Fuck you right back.”

Strong hands yanked Whumpee’s arms above his head and slammed them down, pinning his hands against the floor. The rope scraped against his skin as it was threaded tight around his wrists, knots pulled hard as Whumper secured him to the base of the wall. Whumpee’s shoulders screamed from the strain, his arms stretched as far above him as they could.

He couldn’t run. Couldn’t move. He swallowed hard, trying to orient himself and steady his breath.

Whumper towered over him, admiring the scene laid out before him. Whumpee, naked, bound and furious, writhing on the filthy floor. Laid bare, helpless, completely at Whumper’s mercy.

He could do anything he wanted. And they both knew it.

And then, Whumper flicked Whumpee hard on the tip of his nose.

A small but powerful reminder of who was in charge.

Whumpee recoiled, an involuntary ow! slipping out before he could swallow it down. He couldn’t lift his hands to rub his stinging nose. Couldn’t shield himself. He just had to lie there and swallow the sting.

Smiling at Whumpee’s grimacing face, Whumper slid his belt buckle from the loops and popped open the button of his jeans. Oh yes. He’d been imagining this moment for ages, and Whumpee had made it so easy for him. 

His hands dipped under the elastic on his briefs, taking a second to palm his huge cock before sliding the fabric down his hips. Hard dick in hand, he leaned into the man squirming beneath him.

Whumpee tried to turn his head away, but there was nowhere to go.

Whumper’s warm, firm cock dragged slowly across his cheekbone. The killer’s grin widened as he slid his dick across Whumpee’s face again, crossing over the bridge of his nose, finally resting it across Whumpee’s tightly pursed lips.

“Open,” he said softly.

Fighting back was pointless. Whumpee knew he wouldn’t stop until he did it.

Still, it didn’t come easily. 

Burning with shame, his face flushed red, he hesitated—then slowly parted his lips.

Whumper’s smile widened. Without missing a beat, he crammed his dick in Whumpee’s mouth, forcing it in deep. Whumpee gagged immediately, his body jerking against his binds.

Whumper slid out, giving Whumpee a second to recover, then resumed thrusting. It felt incredible, cramming his dick down Whumpee’s hot, wet throat.

The ordeal was torturous. Uncomfortable. Humiliating. Whumpee counted the thrusts. Three times. Ten times. Twenty… how many times would he be violated? The counting helped soothe him, at least. It was a welcome distraction from his hellish reality. But just when he thought he’d slipped far enough away, just as he was about to fully dissociate, reality yanked him right back.

“Arghh!” Whumper yelled.

Suddenly there were fingers wriggling in Whumpee’s mouth, prying his jaw open wider, nails erratically scraping at his gums.

“Your fucking teeth,” Whumper hissed. “God damn it! If I feel them again, I’ll cut your fucking balls off.”

Whumper grabbed the tip of his tongue and yanked it past his lips. “Use your tongue.”

Whumper pressed the head of his penis against Whumpee’s slick, pink tongue and smeared its surface slowly, deliberately. 

Saliva spilled from the corners of Whumpee’s mouth, sliding down his chin in thin, glistening trails. The taste lingered bitterly. Whumpee recoiled at the saltiness. He refused to swallow.

Then without warning, Whumper’s cock slammed into the back of his throat again, forcing a violent gag from Whumpee’s chest. He hacked, body convulsing as he fought for air, but this time Whumper didn’t give him the chance to recover. He only pulled out to thrust it back in.

And so he forced his cock in deeper again, watching with cruel satisfaction as Whumpee’s throat constricted. Whumper’s free hand gripped the back of Whumpee’s head, steadying him, fucking his face wildly, forcing him to swallow every inch of him.

Whumper studied the man under him, savoring every gag and the occasional flicker of resistance in Whumpee’s eyes. That brief, futile defiance—he lived for it. And the more Whumpee fought, the better it felt.

When their gazes finally met, Whumpee’s eyes snapped shut in a mix of shame and defeat.

Whumper let out a soft chuckle, reaching down to pinch Whumpee’s cheek with mock affection.

“If this is your first blowjob. You’re pretty fucking awful at it.”

Whumpee’s face turned beet red.

So Whumper wasn’t enjoying it. Good.

The thought was a small, bitter comfort to Whumpee.

The thrusting maintained a steady pace, steadily ramping up speed. Whumpee braced himself, mentally preparing himself to swallow down something truly vile— but right as he thought the other man would climax, he stopped entirely.

Sighing, Whumper removed his cock from Whumpee’s parted lips. Whumpee choked on the rush of fresh air that flooded his lungs, relief spilled over him. Whumper took in the sight of it all before wiping his slick cock across Whumpee’s bare chest.

Whumper shook his head as he ran a hand through his dark hair, hiding a smirk. It was probably the worst blowjob he’d ever had. But still, something stirred in his chest every time he saw Whumpee try to fight back. 

Whumper’s eyes shone with amusement. “You might be worse at sucking dick than you are at blackmailing people.” He leaned in closer. “Simply awful.”

“Maybe I don’t have to kill you. I could train you instead. Make you my sex cow, haha.” Whumper's voice dripped with dark amusement. “What do you think?”

Whumpee flinched, his body tense, but he didn’t speak.

Whumper’s tone hardened. “Answer me.”

He paused, eyes locked on Whumpee’s face as it flickered with panic, “The choice is yours,” he continued. “Or would you rather die?”

Whumpee’s breath caught in his throat. His head shook involuntarily, and tears began to spill from his eyes. Helplessness sank deep into his core.

“No,” he bit out, voice trembling.

Whumper’s smile widened, cruel satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Good.” 

“Let’s see how long it takes to break you then.”

(more whump)

[holidayinhell]

I’m so excited for whatever new writing you might have in store!!

Are you able to hint at any of your wips yet? 👀

you know how 90 million years ago, I wrote Brutal Honesty? and then I was like "holy shit guys, part 2 coming soon"?

well, I've written and re-written what I think happens next about a dozen times. pretty much anything I've put out since writing that one has been a derivative of those two characters, but has began as a sequel.

I have hundreds of WIPs. hundreds. and so many of them begin the same exact same way.

that being said, I have ventured off into weirdo land with some WIPs that will never see the light of day. here's one for you. I could never figure out where to go with it...

tws: buried alive

“Didn’t I already kill you?”

Whumpee sweat nervously under his sweater, despite the room being freezing cold.

“No. But you-- um. You came close.”

Whumper’s eyes traced over the familiar contours of the trembling man. He’d gained weight since his captivity, his shoulders and arms were broader than before. 

“What the hell do you want?”

“Money.”

“And why the fuck would I give you money, Whumpee?” he hissed.

“For working.”

“Working?”

Whumpee shifted awkwardly on his feet. He didn’t want to ask Whumper for anything, at all, ever— but his time was running out.

“Let me join your squad.”

“Ha. Right. And Just what kind of respect do you think you’ll get from the boys now, after they’ve all fucked you silly?”

Whumpee cleared his throat. “I was hoping we could leave that chapter in the past.” He twiddled with the hem of his sleeves anxiously. “You fucking owe me that.”

“Owe you? Ha.”

“Yes. For what you did to Caretaker…”

Whumper’s eyes shone. He hated it, but he knew Whumpee was right. Admittedly, he had taken things too far with Caretaker. Watching the man die so slowly--so brutally-- weighed on his cold heart.

“..,anyways, I know you got at least some ransom money from him, something like fifteen grand. But you didn’t release him. You got your fucking payday and you still killed him—”

“Funny. I don’t remember killing him. I remember… you did.”

“No. That’s not on me.”

“You killed him, Whumpee.”

“I never would have done that! YOU MADE ME!”

“Thanks for stopping by Whumpee. It's time for you to leave.”

“You can’t get away with this shit. Give me the fucking money. You asshole, you owe his family—!”

“Goddamn, shut your fucking mouth. What is it with you thinking I owe you something?” “I don’t owe you anything Whumpee. You’re still breathing aren’t you?”

“You fucking bastard.”

“Goodbye.”

“You think I wanted to come back here?! You think I really wanted to look into your soulless fucking dead eyes and to beg for money?!” “I have nothing, I have nowhere to go— I can’t even hold up a fucking job because I can’t sleep anymore. Because of you.”

Whumper sighed, agitation boiling in his chest.

“You made me kill my best friend. And you stole his money, money you don’t even need.”

“How much to get you to shut the fuck up?”

“15.”

“That’s not happening. You’re here for a reason. How much do you actually need?”

“All of it.”

A pause.

“Fine.” “I'll put you to work.”

[holidayinhell]

haha, well well well.

I'll get to writing that smut you ordered ASAP, kiddos

I've gotten a ton of amazing prompt requests and I want to turn at least one of these into a fully fleshed out story :) help me choose.

Poll is set to end April 26th.

[holidayinhell]

I've gotten a ton of amazing prompt requests and I want to turn at least one of these into a fully fleshed out story :) help me choose.

Poll is set to end April 26th.

[holidayinhell]

those last 3 asks were all me btw sorry if they came across a bit demanding or anything i love your writing so much and obviously no pressure at all to write any of them!!

haha, no need to apologize, I literally asked for this! you should see the way my face lights up when I get prompt requests. I am only flattered :~)

will try to get to them soon!

[holidayinhell]

Hmm… could I request some forced body modification dialogue prompts, perhaps?

1- For Your Protection

“What did you do to me?”

“Nothing.” 

“This is my body--” “My neck. What did you do?””

“It’s nothing you need to worry about. As long as you don’t try to cross the fence.”

Whumpee’s hands started to shake as he thumbed at the sore lump on the side of his neck. “Wh-what does that mean?”

“Just for once, can you be quiet and listen to what I’m telling you?”

“...sorry…”

Whumper sighs. “No, no. I’m sorry. Listen, Whumps. I want to keep you safe. This is for your protection.”

“I told you already, I’m not gonna leave…”

“I know you won’t.” “So it shouldn’t matter one way or another.”

“What'll happen…?”

“The implant will sever your inner carotid artery.” “In plain English, you’ll die.”

2- Bleach

“The bleach didn’t take. I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do…”

Whumper shoots him a deadly glare, clearly annoyed.

“I watched the video. I tried, I really did but-but I think you have to get a special type of bleach for hair.”

“Try it again.”

“Maybe you can get a kit at the drugstore? I think they sell hair dye there…”

“No. Try again.”

“It won’t do anything! And it burns my eyes and scalp.”

“That hideous brown hair of yours is burning my eyes.” “Get back in there. do it right. Don’t come out until it’s perfect.”

3- Modifications

“Nipples, of course. Tongue.” “And what do you think, Whumpee? Bellybutton?”

“A Prince Albert, perhaps?”

“Yes. The largest gauge you can manage up front.” “We’ll work to stretch it out at home.”

“I’m happy to oblige. And I wrote here that you were interested in a tattoo for him, on the forehead, correct?”

“Nah, I’ve actually changed my mind on that one.” “Little fucker is lucky he’s pretty. Didn't wanna ruin the face.”

“I understand completely-- that seems like the right call for this one. But on that note, I’m curious, what are your thoughts on branding? The overall look ends up looking rather natural. I’m sure we could come up with a flattering design, and place it somewhere a bit more inconspicuous. I’m happy to create something custom.”

“I like the way you think." "Hmm hmm--how about the inner thigh? And make it say USED.”

“Haha. That’s great.” “Okay sir, I’ll draw that up and have the proof sent to you by this evening. Drop Whumpee off at 10 am tomorrow, and we will make all the requested modifications.” “Young man. You should be flattered. Not everyone gets an upgrade this… tailored.”

4- Quiet

“Good. You’re awake.”

Whumpee’s eyes snapped open, immediately sensing something was wrong. He stumbled backward, hitting the wall hard. His throat fucking burned.

His lips trembling as he tried to scream—anything.

“Save your breath. I made a few adjustments.”

Whumpee's throat strained, but nothing came out.

“Don’t hurt yourself. I removed the vocal cords.”

He stared, horror etched across his face—why?!

“Because you were quite… well, too vocal. Heh. Thought I’d try something new.”

Whumper stood, brushing off invisible dust. “So yeah: rest up. Drink lots of water. I’ll check up on you in a few hours.”

A smirk. “’Til then, I think I’m going to enjoy the peace and quiet.”

(more whump)

[holidayinhell]

Would you consider writing a piece using that last dialogue option from your noncon dialogue prompts? It's something I've never seen in whump before!

dude I'm embarrassed I even wrote that little snippet LOL

but maybe. maaaaaybe. it is especially brutal...

[holidayinhell]

Based on the last ask, could you write some non con dialogue prompts please

whipped this up for you, my dear.

also check out: Intimate Whumper dialogue 1, Intimate Whumper dialogue 2.

[holidayinhell]

Noncon Whumper dialogue.

tws: noncon!!!!!

“You’re bleeding… ha, that really turns me on.”

“Fuck. Nngh. If you keep screaming like that I’m gonna cum.”

“Quit struggling. I know how much you like this.”

“Aren’t you hungry, Whumpee? It’s been a long time for you…” *strokes dick* “It’s been a long time for me too...”

“Shut up. I can tell when you’re faking it.”

“If you want me to ruin you so bad, why didn’t you say so?”

“Stop crying. Get on your fucking knees and suck me off. Or I’ll chop off your head and do it myself.”

“How’re you gonna face Caretaker after this? Haa..”

“Open your mouth. I gotta take a piss.”

(more whump)

[holidayinhell]

What sort of prompts are you up for? Any particular topics?

I'd love to get some dialogue snippets tbh!

I get a lot of scenario/setting specific prompts--which I truly adore-- but I end up spending way too much time developing the scene's visuals instead of getting to the meat of the story.

I suffer from perfectionism which leads to procrastination, so the story never gets completed.

so yeah, I frikin love writing dialogue!

[holidayinhell]

Welcome back!!!!!! <3

it's really effing good to be back.

send me prompts??? :~)

[holidayinhell]

Whumper leaned against the counter, sliding a small box across the surface.

“You know Whumpee, I always thought you were gonna be a screamer.”

He fished a glove from the box, latex smacking against his skin as it slid onto his hands. His eyes flicked to the figure in the corner.

In the corner of the room, Whumpee crouched against the wall, a limp, shivering heap of bare skin and bone. There was no shape to him anymore, just a mess of limbs folded tight, trying to disappear into the concrete. 

He’d told himself he could endure this. That he had enough strength left to fight. But now he was just cold and broken.

Whumper smirked at the sight, stifling a laugh. It was pathetic. Whumpee looked pitiful—scrawny, naked, and hunched over like some half-dead thing.

“You’re so quiet tonight…” Whumper crossed into the light, casting a shadow over the smaller man.

Whumpee didn’t respond. His arms wrapped tightly around his legs, trying to hold onto what little warmth he could.

“You’re not holdin’ out on me, are ya?”

Bootsteps clapped against the concrete floor. Slow, unhurried. Each one rang hollow-- a countdown to the inevitable. Of course, Whumper was in no rush. He allowed the silence to stretch.

Whumpee kept his eyes down, burying his chin into his chest.

Then—pain. A gloved hand tangled deep in his hair.

“You know, being quiet won’t make it hurt less.”

He yanked hard, fisting a knot of Whumpee’s chocolate brown curls. The rubber gloves snapped tight around the strands, dragging scalp and skin with them. Whumpee gasped through clenched teeth.

“Aw. Poor Whumpee.” He mocked. “Did that hurt?”

No response. Whumpee stared blankly ahead, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“C’mon. Are you scared?”

Slowly, Whumpee turned his head just enough to meet his captor’s eyes. His stare was dull—but cold, steady. He wasn’t completely broken yet.

“Christ you’re no fun.” Whumper dropped the man’s head with a shove. “Get on your knees.”

Whumpee didn’t want to, fuck he didn’t want to-- but his body betrayed him, yielding to Whumper’s will like it had been trained to do. 

He shifted onto his bruised knees, grimacing as they dug into the gritty concrete. The pain was sharp, but he bit down and took it. There’d be worse soon enough.

“Good. Looks like some part of you remembers who’s in charge.”

Turning back, Whumper retrieved an instrument from the metal tray on the countertop. The tools clinked faintly as he selected one, holding it up to the light. “I was gonna be nice to you. Make this quick and clean.” He chuckled under his breath. “Heh. But now… it’s like you’re begging me to make you scream.”

Whumpee balled his fists. If he was going to die here, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Whumper get the better of him.

He spat on the ground by Whumper’s shoes.

“You’ll never hear me scream, fucker.” Whumpee snarled.

Whumper sighed—long and slow. The scalpel glinted under the harsh overhead light as he turned it between his fingers.

“That sounds like a challenge,” he murmured.

He crouched behind Whumpee, moving with casual confidence. One arm slung around Whumpee’s shoulders. His other hand brought the scalpel up in front of Whumpee’s chest, letting the blade hover just close enough to feel the heat of his skin.

The cold edge teased his collarbone as Whumper leaned in, his breath warm and deliberate against Whumpee’s neck.

“No one can hear you scream down here,” he whispered, voice low and intimate. “So it doesn’t matter one way or another.”

The scalpel kissed the side of Whumpee’s neck—

A shallow drag. A hiss of pain.

Whumpee flinched, breath catching in his throat.

Whumper smiled against his ear.

“Scream if you want to.”

((more whump))

[holidayinhell]

Interview

CWs: references to noncon, violence

1. Would you rather - Rope or Chains?

R: Rope.

W: Chains, dear god, chains any day. Ropes fucking burn.

2. If Whumpee had multiple Whumpers, who is their favourite? For Whumpers, which Whumpee was your favourite?

R: Yeah, I’ve got a favorite. A couple years back I had a Whumpee who fought me at every turn. He'd throw his food at me, cuss me out, and try to attack me. One time he scratched absolute shit outta my arms. Anyways, I got tired of his shitty attitude and decided to kill him. I didn't keep it a secret, I told him he was gonna die. But when I went in to do it, he changed completely. No more screaming, no spark in his eye. He got quiet. Heh, he got all lovey dovey with me even. You know, lots of people say they’ll do anything if only you’ll spare their life. I never did cash in on that promise, but on this Whumpee, I put it to the fucking test. Heh. He let me do whatever I wanted to him. Depraved, horrible things, that would make the most degenerate man blush. Heh, and even though he was crying through most of it, he still pretended to like everything I did to him. And god. You should’ve seen his eyes when I told him I was still gonna kill him. That look. I think about it still.

W: I can’t. glances over at Whumper. Next question please.

3: In your opinion, what is the best way to train a pet?

R: Humans are fickle fucking beasts. You have to break down someone’s pride in order to train them. I start off with food deprivation, that usually helps me gauge what kind of fight I’m in for.

W: Positive reinforcement has always worked for me… I’ve only ever had a pet bearded dragon though.

4: Broken ribs or bullet wound? 

R: Both.

W: These questions are uncomfortable to answer. But, uh, bullet wound I guess. Assuming it didn’t graze any organs.

5: Preferred type of gag? 

R: I like a fabric gag. Or a simple piece of duct tape. Sometimes they come off and I get to squeeze a little scream out of Whumpee, and then I put a fresh one right back on. I kinda like the cycle of it.

W: I don’t have a preference… none? I guess the metal bit one isn't the worst of them. It hurts my teeth but at least I can still kinda breathe.

6: Burned or stabbed?

R: Stabbed.

W: Stabbed, I guess?

7: Favourite stress position? 

R: An old-fashioned hogtie. I guess I’m unimaginative but I don’t get too crazy into the BDSM shit. Who has the patience for that?

W: Uhh.. just, handcuffs behind my back. Something relatively comfortable.

8: Have you given or received any Brands? What do they signify?

R: Heh. No. Never been branded. I certainly have had my fun branding Whumpee though.

W: I… have two… Uhm. One on my chest that, thank Christ, is almost all the way healed. It said, uh, swine. The other one is on my back, it’s a lot worse. I don’t know what it says but I can feel it so it’s um, it’s here to stay, I guess.

R: It says Nice Try. Remember?

W: Not really.

R: From your second half-hearted escape attempt. Didn't realize you forgot. But I did hit you pretty fucking hard that night.

9: Broken arm or broken leg? 

R: Leg.

W: Arm. A million times, arm.

10: How did you get here? Why are you the way that you are?

R: I live here. Far as I know, I’ve always been 'like this'-- whatever the hell that means. And I don’t see a problem with it. We’re all free to do as we like, so that’s what I fucking do.

W: I dunno. I, I was outside, it was dark and I think it was raining…yeah… heading home from the bar. I didn’t drink that much. I didn’t live that far, either, so the rain wasn’t a problem. I remember falling down and then… I woke up here. And I’ve been here ever since.

11: What is your biggest regret?

R: I wish this Whumpee could’ve learned a thing or two from my defiant Whumpee in the second question you asked. I wanna get my dick sucked like that every fucking night.

W: Regrets... yeah, I've got a few. One stands out. It was late at night, Whumper didn't tie me up. I snuck out of my cell and I made it to the steps. Almost to the top, nearly all the way out. The door was unlocked and cracked open a little, I thought I could make a run for it and—

R: —I was waiting for you at the top. Heh. I wanted to see if you'd run, and you sure tried to. Not so much after that, though.

12: Is there a line you won’t cross? For Whumpee, what do you most fear Whumper might do?

R: A line I wouldn’t cross? Uhhh…. No. No, I don’t think so. I’ll cross any fucking line. turns to Whumpee, grinning. So what are you afraid of, Whumpee?

W: I, um. Does he really have to be here when I answer these questions?

R: Tell them, Whumpee.

W: Can I whisper it to you? (he’s already done so much to me, so fucking much… it’s dumb but I don’t want him to shave my head.)

R: smirks. You know I heard that.

13: What lessons have you taken away from your experience?

R: Everything has been the same old, same old for me. Guess this Whumpee’s lasted longer than the rest of ‘em. He’s coming up on a year soon. Kind of impressive he’s stuck around this long and hasn’t given me a reason to kill him yet.

W: I don’t know. I do what I’m told so I can eat. I take it day by day. I guess the lesson I’ve learned is that abandoning pride is the only way to survive…

14: Whip or cane?

R: Whip.

W: Yeah. Whip.

R: Didn’t expect you to say that. Noted.

15: Drugged or coherent?

R: Depends on the situation. Drugging them is useful for transport but I don’t much like it when they’re too dazed to understand what’s happening. Sometimes they fall asleep, too.

W: Drug me any fucking day. I don’t care. I’ll take whatever you have.

16: What are your true, honest feelings about each other? Is there some part of you that cares for the other at all?

R: Sometimes I like to touch him. He’s warm and it’s funny when he tries to squirm away. Plus I like it when he begs me to stop. But do I care about him? …eh. Sure, sorta. He’s my plaything.

W: Erm. Thanks, I guess. For me… Whumper is the reason I’m here. I guess I’m appreciative for the food… but he does hurt me. A lot. Constantly.

R: You're very welcome.

17: What is your favourite thing about the other? A personality trait, a physical feature, anything

R: He’s got pretty hair. A kind of pretty face, too. Yeah, almost like a girl. Heh. And he makes good sounds when he’s screaming.

W: Ah. Fuck. I really don’t know how to answer this…

R: Come on. What’s your favorite part?

W: Um. Well, I'll say this: Whumper is smart. Scary smart. I don’t think anyone would ever imagine how smart. I don’t know. I don’t. It’s… terrifying.

18: Do you have relationships outside of each other? Friends, family - if yes, do they know about Whumpee? Do they care?

R: Yes, yes, and no.

W: I have a half sister in, uh, Arkansas. We’re not close, obviously… used to have friends I guess, but it’s been a long time since I saw them…

19: What other hobbies do/did you have?

R: Video games. 

W: I used to play saxophone. A lifetime ago.

20: For Whumper, is there any chance you’ll let Whumpee go? For Whumpee, have you ever thought about life after you’re free?

R: No. Sorry. Realistically, it doesn’t make sense to ‘let him go.’

W: I, uh, I used to think about it. I don't anymore… like he said.. realistically it doesn’t make any sense.

R: Mm. Good answer, Whumpee.

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this interview uses the questions from Character Ask Game post by @inhurtandincomfort !! thanks homie!

((more Whump))