#dehumanisation

[sayruq]

[defectivegembrain]

Hello person, allistic or autistic, who wants to make a point about autistic social behaviour. You must now find a way to describe autistic people, either as a whole or as individuals who happen to have different experiences from you, without using any comparisons to non human beings or objects. Or I will...throw you in the alligator pit or something idk how saw traps work

[whumpshaped]

pampered whumpee in a gilded cage. no one understands what's so bad about their situation, they're pretty, taken care of, in the nicest clothes all the time, eating the best foods.

except they cannot leave. they're dolled up against their will while strapped to a chair and drugged out of their mind. the clothes are things they'd never wear, uncomfortable and revealing. the best foods are always carefully measured and handpicked by whumper in order to keep whumpee's body looking the same.

and has anyone ever even heard whumpee speak? not even once?

well, it's whatever. pretty things like them usually have nothing inside that pretty little head anyway.

[bloodybloody]

Whumper who records the process while the experiment is occuring✨✨✨

Whumper is checking the equipment and medical devices after tying the whumpee down to the operation table. They gaze upon the camera, which is in the corner of the room, and start the voice recording. They plainly state the date, time, whumpee's number, which is determined by whumper when they are captured, and the experiment's subject. Then they inject muscle relaxants in order to hold the whumpee still.

Despite the medications they've taken, whumpee is in excruciating pain. They can't save themselves or even move; they merely cry and scream in pain. Whumper is unable to record their voice properly because of whumpee's wails, so they shush and calm whumpee down with comforting words, caressing their hair and holding their hand. Whumpee is barely fighting the urge to scream; all they can do is sob and whine while clutching whumper's hand tightly.

Whumper leaves whumpee immediately after finishing the experiment to examine the record while whumper is writhing. They notice whumpee's desperate but resigned gaze at them while watching the record. 

They thank whumpee for being a good lab rat while treating, headpating, and kissing them.

Whumpee watches whumper for a couple days studying the results of the experiment while they wait for whumper to finish their work on their knees. Whumper randomly asks questions about what they've felt in specific moments and makes them remember the pain they've felt, intentionally or unintentionally.

[the-three-whumpeteers]

The whumper treated the whumpee like an animal. Punishment was given whenever the smallest rule was broken, and the whumpee didn’t get basic human respect- no bed, no plated food, the whumpee was just chained up and treated like dirt.

[socialist-microwave-laser]

i'll admit this news about bds now calling for the boycott of standing together has really, really shaken me

i feel like for so long i've been yelling myself hoarse trying to get people to pause for five gddamn seconds and actually talk and listen to each other instead of just yelling past each other and this,,, calling standing together dishonest propaganda for daring to assert that (medinas) israel is diverse, for saying that it's important that we talk to each other rather than dehumanize each other... this is such fucking terrifying rhetoric

i don't know where to go from here. i'm scared

bds call to boycott standing together: https://bdsmovement.net/standing-together-normalization

about standing together: https://www.standing-together.org/_files/ugd/7ff315_5f69682daf404d66849f14af867a6221.pdf

[feverdreamsanddelusions]

whumpers calling whumpees dogs will never not be incredible. it's so simple. and yet so effective. throwing dog commands at them. telling others to keep their dogs in check. snapping at them to stop yapping and barking. joking about the proverbial (possibly literal) tight leash. it's just so good.

[whump-and-other-misfortunes]

Robot whump <3

Whumpee who used to be human but had their parts slowly replaced with robotic pieces—one by one—until they're not sure if they're even the same person they used to be

Whumpee gradually forgetting their friends and family

Overheating, electrical errors, short circuiting

Whumper reminding Whumpee that they're not human—why should they be treated like one?

[blooming-bruises]

Caretakers that don't refuse to call Whumpee a dog or thing when Whumpee freaks out about being called a person or by a name (their name?).

Caretakers that let Whumpee sleep on the floor. Maybe adding a blanket to make it a little softer, but not forcing Whumpee to sleep in a bed.

Caretakers that let Whumpee continue to wear a collar until they're ready.

Caretakers that fight the battles for Whumpee to believe they deserve good things within the framework of their conditioning before challenging the conditioning itself ,,,

[sayruq]

[honeycollectswhump]

maybe put a shock collar on Ashtray?

Lightning in His Veins

[masterlist]

CW: shock collar, pet whump, conditioned whumpee, dehumanisation

His Mistress has a new collar for him. Ashtray should be excited at the prospect of being decorated, but something about it makes his stomach churn. It is big, black and ugly. Nothing like the delicate accessories his Mistress usually dresses him in, and that almost feels like a sin.

Maybe it's because the collar is a gift from one of her friends, watching excitedly. Not for Ashtray, of course, nothing is ever for him, nothing belongs to him, that’s how it's supposed to be. But sometimes they gift her things to dress him in, though nothing comes close to her knowledge of style and grace. This collar must be one of those gifts then, and who is Ashtray to question that. A Good Boy never questions his superiors, a Good Boy never questions anything. A Good Boy does what he is told.

So Ashtray does. He bares his neck prettily, taking note of how his torso moves, twisting on fresh burns, knowing that the glitter the servants applied must shine like tiny diamonds. And maybe, silently, he hopes that his Mistress’ friends must be so jealous of her beautiful, perfect possessions, decked in gold and jewels, just what dreams are made of. 

…At least he thinks that’s what dreams must be like. Objects don’t dream, naturally. 

As his Mistress closes the clasps of the collar, as her pristine red nails scratch over a burn scrab, he can’t help but focus on the feelings of prongs digging into his throat in an uncomfortably familiar way. Ashtray doesn’t dwell on it though. He has already learned, there is nothing to fear. The blank rooms are far gone and instead have been blessedly replaced by the shining smiles his Mistress graces him with, her cold hands like glistening ice bringing warm burns, and the golden glamour she has allowed him to be a part of. 

Satisfied, his Mistress steps back. She is saying something, talking with her guest, exchanging airy laughter and warbled pleasant tones, washing over Ashtray like pearly morning dew he can picture in his mind but has never seen before. He could get lost in her voice, riding on it like clouds carrying him through his purpose, and yet never being too distracted, always keeping an eye on the ground just low enough so he’ll never miss a clue he can’t understand, never missing the remote–

The remote being handed to his Mistress, equally as black as the collar, making him suddenly awake of the prongs against his throat and the pit forming in his stomach. 

Ashtray stays still though, perfectly poised, and suppresses the flinch before it had even fully realised. Maybe he hopes, desperately, if he is Good enough she’ll decide against it. Maybe it was all a test, maybe, maybe… Maybe he can see it coming just enough to give her the reaction she wants. 

Almost pleadingly in the silence of his own mind, Ashtray knows he isn’t trained for pain. He is supposed to be an Ashtray, an object with a specific use, it’s all he could ever hope to know. The thought of displeasing her with his reaction scares him more than any pain ever could. What if he reacts too much? What if he is not– Lightning burns down his veins, ripping out his throat, his skin and tissue and soul. Two punctures spread venom down his very being, and there is no escape no escape no escape no escape no escape

Suddenly, it’s gone and Ashtray finds himself curled up on the ground, his limbs still twitching. He can’t remember how but surely it wasn’t graceful and–

His mouth rips open in a breathless scream, a pathetic, garbled screech barely noticeable over the sound of mindless thrashing, limbs hitting the floor, head banging against polished stone. It’s fire and lightning and Punishment and he doesn’t know why, doesn’t know anything, only knows Pain and Punishment and Please Stop.

Pause.

Breath.

Notice saliva dripping from the mouth. Not elegant. Not trained.

Hell. 

Like veins imploding, swallowing what is left of Ashtray, leaving no trace of his purpose. Like poison, destruction, ruin, Ødelæggelse.

Stop.

Gasp.

Look up at Mistress, hope for mercy, hope for anything.

Find glee. Find amused laughter. Please.

It never ends…

• • •

He is still here. Ashtray is still here. Twisted, on the ground, the venom still burning in every vessel, but here. His tongue feels thick and swollen in his mouth, dried and bloody at the same time. Somehow, it is all pain, every single cell in his body is pain and lightning and shocks still coursing through him.

Maybe she heard him think. Maybe she felt her Ashtray have stupid little thoughts about things he should be grateful for, like being adorned in a big, black, ugly painful it hurts burning agonising beautiful collar. 

taglist: @whumpsday, @2in1whump, @sodacreampuff, @webbo0, @toyybox let me know if you want to be added or removed :)

[whumpshaped]

tw past trauma, conditioned whumpee, dehumanisation, de-conditioning (gone wrong?), manipulation

“I… I’m not sure about this. It feels kinda mean.” 

“I’m literally asking you to do it,” Whumpee said, rolling their eyes a little. Despite their attempts to seem nonchalant, though, it was very clear that they were nervous about this. “Please. I can’t live my life like– this. If I’m outside while some fucker is training his dog, I– it’s embarrassing. I need to do something about it.”

“And you think re-triggering yourself is… the way to go.”

“It’s exposure therapy. I don’t get why you’re the one being so weird about it. You’re not even the one who’s about to do the heavy lifting.”

Caretaker sighed, still uneasy about the concept. “I just don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I don’t want to be rude, I don’t want to do any of that. I want you to be okay.”

“Well, I need this to be even remotely okay.”

Caretaker bit their lower lip as they thought about it, trying to convince themself this was fine, and they shouldn’t be making a fuss about it. Whumpee was right, they had to get over it at some point. It was just… Caretaker didn’t imagine they would be the one doing any sort of therapy. “Okay,” they said softly. “Um… then, uh, do you wanna start on the floor, or–”

“No. Come on. Tell me to– say the command.”

Fuck, this was so uncomfortable. Caretaker took a deep breath and closed their eyes. “Alright. Kneel.”

The sound of Whumpee’s knees hitting the floor followed just a few moments after. It wasn’t really a conscious reaction, from what Caretaker understood. It was instinctual. Reflex. They opened their eyes to see their friend looking at the carpet, flexing and unflexing their hands that were resting on their thighs. 

“Can you get up?” Caretaker asked gently. 

“I… Of course…” Whumpee swallowed audibly, and made no move to actually get to their feet. “I just need a moment…”

“This was a bad idea.”

“No! No, I can do this. This is so stupid. I can do this. I need you to repeat the command whenever I start getting up, though. Please.”

“I shouldn’t–”

“Can you just help me for once? Instead of coddling me endlessly? I want my fucking life back!”

Caretaker flinched a little at the yelling. “S-sorry. You’re right. Um… Go ahead, then.”

Whumpee slowly took their hands from their lap and placed them on the floor, then made an attempt at pushing themself to their feet. Caretaker hated to do this. They hated seeing their friend on their knees, they hated ordering them around like an animal. But what else was there to do? Whumpee had asked them for help.

“Kneel,” they repeated quietly. Whumpee’s resolve crumbled immediately, and they sat right back down: back straight, hands in their lap, perfect as ever. They seemed embarrassed by it. “If at any point you’d like to stop–”

“I can do this,” Whumpee insisted. “I can do this. They’re just words. Stupid words.”

They tried to get up again. Caretaker sent them back to the floor with a single word. They tried to get up. Caretaker told them to kneel. It was awful. It was so bad. Whumpee started crying after the fourth time, and Caretaker just couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m done,” they said, tears in their eyes. “I’m not doing this to you.”

“What the fuck?” Whumpee snapped. “You said you’d help!”

“And I said I didn’t want to hurt you!” they yelled back. “You’re sobbing! I’m not doing this. I want you to get better, and I’ll pay for as many therapy sessions as I can, but I’m not doing this.” They turned around and stormed off, wiping their eyes as they went.

[teal-fiend]

A rich observer/prey hires a pred to come to their private events and parties. They give the pred a designated area, maybe behind glass, a small metal fence or even a cage. They have the pred dress in avant-garde dresswear, their skin and bare abdomen bejeweled and decorated in golden paint like a Klimt painting.

Before or at the start of the event, the pred is given prey to consume. Their job for the rest of the night is to pose, lounge about, slowly digesting their meal as the party goes on - a sort of live performance for the guests. In the way that drug lords keep a tiger on a golden leash, diamond collar, an absurd performance of luxury and power. 

The pred is not allowed to talk to guests, and they would rarely make eye contact. They are in this moment an expensive art piece rather than a person. But they do get paid well, and they get a free meal. 

Maybe they’re even on a contract with their boss, where they will live on their estate, the pred’s employer feeding them prey for theirs and their guest’s entertainment.

[bloodybloody]

I'm going to decorate my whumpee with a silly little hole that is drilled right there

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

"Hi baby!! I know you get bored here from sitting all alone, so I bring my most entertaining pet as a gift." gushed whumper as they were dragging another whumpee.

Whumpee receded a little when they understood what happened to the other whumpee. Whumper looked at the whumpee's face with a questioning expression, as if they were waiting for the whumpee to say something, but the whumpee was speechless.

Whumper stuck out their fingers from the gap they caved in a couple months ago and petted the other whumpee's head to encourage them to speak. "Don't you want to talk to them? I know you have lots of things in common. You can start with your silliness when we first met!!".

Other whumpee looked directly into the eyes of the whumpee with blank, traumatized eyes. They show no sign of life except breathing; whumpee felt like other whumpee was looking through them. 

Whumper nodded for a short bit, like they'd just remembered something. "OOOOOOOH, RIGHT... Talking is extremely painful for them, so we made a deal to not say anything until I command them to do so. But I can speak for them! They've loved playing games from the start to understand who will outsmart the other first. They have said lots of bad words, disobeyed me a couple times, ruined my experiments intentionally,etc. They were slogged away to follow me because they were insistently scuffed and tugged at their leash. And I helped them by grabbing them more tightly, keeping them closer. Now look how happy they are for being a more coherent pet for me." whumper smiled while caressing other whumpee's hair. Then they straightened their face and said, "I hope you learned your lesson; otherwise, the next lesson will be given practically." 

[the-three-whumpeteers]

The whumpee had been raised by the whumper, treated like an experiment their entire life. The whumpee had been convinced that they weren’t human by now, learning to bear the pain of every experiment just to make their creator happy.

[a-living-canvas]

Broken hourglass

TW : Dehumanisation

"You may call me sir or master." Whumper ordered as they were adjusting the collar on Whumpee's neck. Whumpee frowned, "What? Why should I?" Whumper finished putting the collar before they stood up straight again and sighed. 

They walked to the metal table, examining every single one of the tools. "I'm your owner now. You ought to listen to my words." Silent enveloping them for a moment. Whumper pulled the leash that connected with the collar.

"Come, pet." 

Whumpee fought against the rope, they backed away to the wall. Whumper blinked twice before they pulled it again, slightly harder. Whumpee still didn't budge from their spot. Whumper sighed, on the verge of losing their patience. They pulled the leash again more intensely. 

"Come on, now…!" 

"No!" 

Whumper tightened their grasp on the leash and pulled it with more force. Whumpee struggled yet again. "No! Let me go! You freak—!"

Whumper slapped them hard on the cheek, silencing them. They walked behind Whumpee before putting a blindfold over their eyes. "W-wait, what are you—"

"Shut up. Can you stop being obnoxious for a second?"

Whumper walked in a circle around Whumpee, silently judging them. They trailed their gaze up and down at their pathetic form.

"Kneel." 

Whumper ordered with a firm tone. Whumpee stood motionless on their spot, gritting their teeth in rage. They would have launched at Whumper if not for these pesky restraints. Whumper crossed their arms,

"I said kneel—"

"I won't fucking kneel for you, you dumbass!"

Silent. 

Whumper walked and stopped in front of Whumpee. They poked their blindfolded eye with their finger lightly. "You won't?" Whumper took out a sharp knife from their pocket. 

"Then I'll make you."

"W-wait, what do you—" Whumpee flinched and yelled loudly as they felt a sharp pain on their front thighs. Their knees buckled and they slumped to the floor along with their soft whimpering. Whumper watched them kneeled in amusement and satisfaction as they were smirking down at them.

"Now, can you bark for me?" 

"...w-what..?" Whumpee asked breathlessly. They could feel blood under their palms as it was slipping out from their thighs. Whumper chuckled, they ruffled their hair in somewhat a mocking manner.

"I asked you to bark for me, Whumpee. You can do that right? You are a dog, after all." 

Whumper grabbed a fistful of Whumpee's hair before they brought their face to them. "Now, be loyal to your owner and bark."

"I…I don't want to…" 

"Oh yeah?"

"Y-yes…" 

Whumper hummed in thoughts. They let go of Whumpee's hair before they pinched their cheek. "Then, I have no choice but to put you in a muzzle. You know, so you won't be able to talk and maybe I won't give you any food—"

"W-wait, please…please don't do that!"

Whumper ignored Whumpee's pleading as they continued to talk.

"...if you behave, then…yeah, I might give you food. But who likes a bad dog like–"

"W-woof…"

Whumper smirked, "Hm? What was that?"

Whumpee swallowed their embarrassment and shame down their throat. "Woof…woof…" 

Whumper ruffled their hair affectionately. "Aww, look who's finally being a good dog for me! Always so good for me, hm?" Whumpee put their head down as they continued to be treated like an animal. Their fingers curled up tightly, their palms nearly bleeding from their sharp nails digging down on it.

Whumpee heard the sound of a plate colliding with the floor before it was placed in front of them. They tried to reach the food with their hand when Whumper said,

"Ah ah ah, don't use your hands. You gotta use your nose to find the food and your mouth to eat it."

Whumpee obeyed. They leaned their head down a little before they started sniffing for the food. They crawled for a short moment and when their nose was hovering above the food, they grimaced. It's a dog food. Specifically in a can. Whumpee knew Whumper bought the expensive one for them, because they used to buy the same brand to their beloved dog at home.

Whumper snickered, "Aw, come on. What are you waiting for? Don't you feel hungry?"

"...I can't eat this." 

Whumper rolled their eyes, "Oh, you can. You are just being a brat." 

Whumper walked to the door, leaving Whumpee alone. "I would give you human food if you behave and eat the dog food for now."

The basement door shut close before the sound of it being locked could be heard. Whumpee stuck in that kneeling position for minutes. They refused to eat the kibbles no matter what. However, after half an hour passed, their arms started giving out. Their stomach rumbled loudly. They leaned their head down again, parted their lips before sticking their tongue out to eat.

They ate in silence as tears were dripping down onto the food.