#but then something unrelated to whumpee puts whumper in a bad mood

[shywhumpauthor]

The Merry Whump of May—Day 14

“Well, well, well…”

Barbed wire | Starvation | Drain

Masterlist

Cw: torture, elemental whump, dehydration, pet whump, normalized abuse, stress position, restraints, partial nudity, referenced nudity, abandonment, thoughts of death, rescue

Whumpee was almost thankful when it had started to rain.

After a long day out, the unrelenting sun beating down on their bare shoulders and back, scorching their skin and drenching them with sweat, when the sky clouded over and they got the first break from the heat in hours, they felt like they were going to sob with relief. Their tears had ran dry ages ago, though, leaving them dehydrated and with a dizzying headache that, even though they were sitting, made the world spin around them.

Small trickles of blood ran down their arms, bound above their head to the fence post with a long cord of barbed wire, wound around their wrists and forearms not particularly tight, but enough for the razored bits to bite into their skin with every twitch, pricking and stinging. They weren’t extended all the way, which Whumpee could only be grateful for, allowing their posture to slump back just a little against the post, rather than sit rigid-straight. They had originally been bound on their knees, and it had taken them a few long minutes, paired with enough pain to make their vision blur, to shift to something more comfortable.

Whumper had been in a rush, leaving them out here. Cursing and spitting the entire time, their aggression twice the anger Whumpee was accustomed to. They had some brutal bruises, color just finishing setting into a deep hue of purple, blotched across their abdomen and ribs, some creeping up their jaw where they had suffered a hard punch.

Their arms had gone numb by now, anyways, so it didn’t really matter. The pain had dulled to a hum, everything from their shoulders up nothing more than a disconnected static. The first drops of rain had felt like pure bliss, pattering against their sweat soaked hair, cooling the burned flush from their face. They had turned their head up towards the sky, mouth falling open to catch the drops as it increased from a drizzle to a steady rain, letting the water soothe their dry mouth and aching throat.

Then that rain turned to a downpour.

Soft patters of rain turned into harsh bullets, beating down on their sunburned skin painfully. It soaked through their hair and poured down their face, nearly choking them with each breath as unwanted water invaded their throat and lungs. With nothing else to do, they tucked their chin to their chest and curled up their knees, trying to shelter their exposed body as much as they could. It hadn’t been a cold day, by any means, temperatures one of the hottest all year, but the rain was cold and the air was almost too thick with humidity to breathe. Sunlight was snuffed behind dark clouds, and soon Whumpee couldn’t see far enough in the distance to see Whumper’s house, which they knew was only a hundred feet away or so.

God, where were they?! Whumper had never left them out for this long, certainly not in weather like this. No matter what they did, no matter how badly they behaved, Whumper was always merciful enough to bring them in before the elements became a real threat.

They couldn’t even see the lights from the house, with how bad the rain was.

They had fucked up, they knew it. Whumper was in a bad mood, they should have known to be careful. To be extra attentive, quickly completing their chores so they could be ready whenever Whumper would demand the next order.

Today, all they had done was forget to put away the dishes. They had washed them by hand, then ran them through the dishwasher, but so caught up in their list of doing the laundry, sweeping the floors, cleaning the windows, scrubbing the tiles in the bathroom, they hadn’t gotten around to it by the time Whumper had gotten home. It was something stupid, it had never happened before, but Whumper was in such a bad mood, it might as well have been like they burned the house down.

Whumpee hid their face behind their knees, feeling the rain beat like stones against their inflamed back. Lash marks, still not fully healed, swollen with sun and now torn open to blister. The scars that wrapped around their shoulders were covered in peeling skin, like they had been singed by a flame. They could feel the heat from their face against their knees, hot like a stovetop, not even the rain able to cool the flush.

They felt sick. Nausea twisted their stomach in knots, acid stinging their throat but they had already thrown up everything in their stomach, and then some, the pile of sick washed away with the rain some time ago.

They genuinely felt like they were going to die.

They had never felt this bad. Not after Whumper had ripped their back to ribbons, after they had been drugged out of their mind halfway to overdose. Not after they had been first kidnapped and sold.

For a while then they were in and out of consciousness. Bubbling pain in their chest, hindering their breaths, only soothed when their mind finally gave in, to return with their consciousness however longer later.

It was freezing out now. They couldn’t feel their legs either. They were splattered with dirt, even though they hadn’t moved in hours, drenched to the bone, blisters ripped open and bleeding along their limbs and chest. The only area of them that had been protected from the sun was the strip from their lower abdomen to the top of their thighs, where Whumper had left their boxers after stripping them of their other clothes. Some days they weren’t even that kind, when leaving them out, but like Whumpee had said, they seemed to be in a rush.

Whumpee could only hope, pray that they would rush back soon. Their head felt like it was imploding, chest on the verge of caving in, rocks and ice settling in their stomach causing sharp pains all through them.

They didn’t think they would make it much longer.

…

When they were finally cut down, Whumpee was conscious, but barely. Unable to even open their eyes, the moment their arms were freed they slumped to the mud like nothing more than a rag doll, a sack of flour left on a porch. They were shivering and sweating all in one, covered in mud and filth. Their skin was peeling and bleeding still, a mess of open wounds and sores where they had been pressed to the pole, bug bites all up and down their shaking body.

“Oh crap,” a voice said, but the words were mangled and twisted, drowned out by static. Something soft was draped over Whumpee’s curled up body, soaking the rain from their skin. The downpour had lightened to a scattered rainfall, dancing across Whumpee’s face as they were scooped up into a sturdy set of arms. A hand cupped the side of their head, keeping it from lolling as they were carried away.

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@themerrywhumpofmay