okaydoll1301

[okaydoll1301]

Food for thought for all our different perspectives put so prettily over an insect.

Mercy

by Joy Sullivan

Once, we were grilling zucchini from the garden. It was summertime and I was about to leave you. A praying mantis landed on the grill. He was bright and beautiful even as he fizzled and I burned all my fingertips trying to save him. You can't tell when an insect is in pain but he must have been and you put him in the grass so softly where I found and stomped him. And I think it surprised us what we each defined as mercy.

[okaydoll1301]

*gently shakes the whump community by the shoulders*

No no no. Stop that. Put down the morality snobbery. Down! Put it down!

We do not get to throw stones at the other harmless weirdos. We are part of the harmless weirdos.

Do not argue! Whump is weird. It's morally neutral and it is weird, like a lot of other morally neutral kinda-gross-to-outsiders weird things, such as, for example, furry fandom. And yes like furry fandom sometimes it's sexual and sometimes it isn't. Both approaches are just as weird and just as fine.

Embrace being weird and don't attack our fellow weirdos. One person's gross torture porn is another person's catharsis.

(We're the weird torture porn fandom we should know this aaaaaaargh)

[okaydoll1301]

8. A tour

This is fairly soft writing for now.

I really put this one off. Not sure why. A slump maybe or maybe because I really wasn't sure what direction to go. Either way...Bon Appetit, oh so fair void.

tw: Coercion, tasers (I'm still really bad at these)

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Catherine showered and dressed quickly. She stared in the mirror for some time, staring at the collar as she unbuckled it. They were going into "that" kind of place, after all. Would it be ok to wear it? She wouldn't be indistinguishable from one of them, so that meant she wouldn’t stand out, right? Her arms wrapped around herself before she cautiously buckled it back into place. She decided she could always take it off later. With tense hands brushing down her clothing she took another glance at herself, taking in the outfit she wore. The skirt felt strange, the blouse felt too suffocating even if it was a light fabric. The stockings she wore, although silky and smooth, felt sense heightening as the straps holding them up brushed her skin with each move she made. Her skin felt like fire. Besides, rarely did she dress like this. She had plenty of semi-business looking outfits from her meetings with her publishing company, but she was a homebody. The company didn’t exactly expect any of their writers to dress like this, but it didn't hurt for them, she supposed it wouldn't hurt for this either.

They took a private car to the company, all black and shiny outside their apartment building. An uneasy feeling made her stomach churn, turning somersaults like it was telling her to go back home. She inhaled deeply trying to settle her nerves as if somehow meditation of any kind would make her feel this place was actually safe. She didn't notice the look Miles gave her or the way he almost seemed to coddle her to get her out of the car. It was just short of him promising her a treat if she came out as he held his hand out for her expectantly. One foot at a time she stepped out onto the pavement and walked arm in arm with Miles to the entrance. Maybe this was a mistake, she thought. She needed to get back home, she was sure of it. The hum in her ears seemed to grow louder. Her breathing had an abruptness at the end, a small tic she'd gotten recently. Her hands shook as he moved to hold her hand, his fingers slowly caressing her palm. Could he feel her trembling? The why weren’t they going back home?

"Catherine. It's going to be just fine. It's just a tour now." Miles spoke only in her ear as they approached the front door. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, guiding her as he opened the door for her. For the first time since he began working with them, he used the front door and Miles knew this time would be very different from work. "Come." He urged her knowing she'd process it as a command and her feet carried her into the building.

"Miles! Glad you could make it. I was still wondering if you would take me up on the offer." The man approached Miles, shaking his hand and then he turned to Catherine, a warm smile on his face. It seemed warm. "I'm supposing this is Catherine?"

At the sound of her name she looked at him with a small and polite smile as she shook his hand. He pulled her in for an embrace, and his hand brushed the buckle of her collar. His eyes crinkled at the corner when she pulled away reflexively.

"A pleasure to meet you, Cat. Do you mind if I call you that?” He asked, but the way he kept going made it clear he wasn’t exactly asking permission. It appeared to Catherine that this was a man used to getting his way. Perhaps someone powerful, or simply someone used to plowing over other’s lives. “Miles has mentioned you plenty. It would appear you have someone quite dedicated." He went on as if he hadn't just touched her in such a familiar way. If Catherine wasn't feeling so uneasy she would have caught the way his eyes lingered on her collar, the gentle slope of her shoulders, or the way his eyes seemed to caress her legs. "The name is Glen, by the way. I won't be the one taking you on the tour unfortunately. That would have been an absolute pleasure with such a pretty thing like yourself. I'll be here when you return." Glen turned his attention back to Miles, suddenly acting as if Catherine was not there at all. Maybe she should have been bothered by it, but it let her look around.

It looked like any company lobby, complete with sleek chairs and coffee. Gourmet muffins sat in a serving case and the scent of the coffee wafted in the air. She lifted her nose just slightly, inhaling without thinking of where she was anymore. It smelled rich and neither too sweet nor bitter.

"Cat. We're ready." Miles called out for her.

"Oh. Oh, yeah. Sorry." She jostled herself out of her trance and her voice tapered off as she apologized, following Miles’ lead as he guided her again.

The tour itself was surprisingly normal. There were entry rooms for new arrivals, exam rooms, and the staff who bustled about within them. It was one of the training rooms that caused her to remember why she had been so nervous about this place. There in the middle of the white room was a young man, possibly no older than twenty-three kneeling with a look of absolute indifference as he was told to change positions. As he was told to ‘present’ she had to turn away and she asked Miles if they could move on. He patted her teasingly and asked the guide to keep them going.

Her teeth gnawed at her inner cheek. She should have been ok with all of this. She’d been in an alternative lifestyle so long, playing with others and finding an assortment of Doms. But not this. There was no end, no safe words. It was who they were and she had to shake her head at Miles when they offered to show the training rooms for the romantics. Miles eyes lit up, the corners of his mouth turned up as the guide mentioned there would be a stark difference between the domestics they’d just seen and the romantics behind the door. Her stomach twisted again, and she rubbed her palms on her skirt at the offer to keep going. She could sense he was going to insist, but one look from her and he let it go.

"Go without me. I'll um…stay out in the hall until you're done." The woman who had been guiding them assured Miles it would be fine because this portion itself wouldn't take excessively long. It didn't take too much to convince him, and a moment later she found herself alone.

She looked about her in the hall. Her hands smoothed her skirt and she discreetly readjusted the back of the stockings so the lines were perfect again. The walls were white. The ceilings and lighting were white. Everything was…white. She fiddled with the bell on the collar, sighing and trying to understand how she had so easily let Miles bring her here. There was a huge urge to simply walk out and leave him behind, but she didn’t have a car and they had taken their phones at the front desk. It meant she’d have to ask for it and she wasn’t sure she had the bravado to do that right now.

Heavy steps rattled her out of her fantasy escape plane. A man in all black attire, complete with combat boots and a shirt with more pockets than possibly necessary passed by her. She averted her gaze, not wanting to strike up a conversation. There was a pause of the steady footfalls as they stood in front of her. She glanced up, already gripping the bell tightly in her hand. Dark eyes stared back at her, almost black like midnight skies and she felt her breath stutter.

"Now what could you possibly be doing out here?” The question wasn’t really aimed at her, his voice was too low for that. “Number and designation?" His voice was almost robotic as he spoke up and she blinked.

"What? No. I'm sorry," Her laugh was awkward as she crossed her arms and let go of the bell. It rang, filling the small space between them like a declaration that argued her next sentence. "I'm not a pet." The man remained silent, seemingly studying her as she watched his eyes wander. His shoulders dropped an inch then seemed to go rigid again, “So they left you here for a bit?"

She smiled and nodded awkwardly as she tried to ease some of the tension she felt building between them, "Yeah. A bit of a tour in there. It’ll be a wonder if he ever comes out again," Her thumb gestured behind her to the door Miles and the tour guide had gone through. She didn’t bother to look up at him again, instead somehow giving herself the illusion as she turned away that if she couldn’t see him maybe he’d walk away.

His gloved hand reached out for her, too quick for her as it clutched the buckle of her collar, "What the hell are you doing?" She clamored as she tried to get his grip off of her, but she hadn’t expected the sudden jolt of electricity that went up her body. What was probably only ten to fifteen seconds felt like agony. Her body tightened, going rigid as long as those prongs stayed pressed to her side. Then just as suddenly she let out a gurgle and dropped to her knees before slumping against the wall. She watched, disconnected from herself as he reached for her and threw her over her shoulder like trophy game. Her body wouldn't cooperate as it shook periodically, and her tongue wouldn't quite move the way she needed it to; like it was full of cotton.

Her mind focused on the white door Miles and the guide had gone into as it got farther and farther, like a vision in a dream that you couldn’t quite wake up from.

#psychological whump #pet whump #whump writing

[okaydoll1301]

A Bullet Dodged, A Bullet Taken

Small warning as I got ahead of myself on this one, but this is a possible spoiler for what I have writing now with this pair.

Warning: nsfw, blood mentioned

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Miles turned his head when he heard Catherine walk in. It was a mild reflex to the sound of her jangling keys as she put them on the hook and the small thumps of her tucking away her shoes at the front door.

"Hey, Cat." He called for her and even with socks on he could hear her footsteps taken just a tad quicker. The small chime of the bell rang, reminding him so much of a cat, but if she was anything, she was a dog; a detrimentally loyal, obedient, always seeking approval dog.

Miles could sense her smile already by the way her hands rubbed down his shoulders. She'd been so much more affectionate since she had asked to put their little play collar back on. He tapped the top off her hands. "C'mere, will you?"

"Yeah," She answered immediately, moving around to the couch. However, she took a slight step back, faltering when he saw the expression he had on. His jaw was tight, his gaze cold, and he looked anything but relaxed. When she saw him point down to the floor before him her lips tightened as she chewed them. "Kneel." In an instant she was on her knees before him, her hands tucked in her lap as her eyes kept glued to all of him. She was seeking, searching for what he wanted eyes darting between each of his eyes and the subtle moves of his brows and lips.

Right now, he was mostly curious. Could she read him the way he could read her? He sat back thinking to his time within WRU walls. He'd been working late or at least that's what he told her. But anytime beyond their work for the day was spent learning the little tricks of the trade. He'd learned the positions they had their pets learn, all 40 something of them. They were tedious and he wasn't interested in having her learn them. What did interest him was the different reactions of each pet and how they circumvented the worst of their resistance.

He'd watched Catherine grow up alongside him, and watched as she'd become so many different people throughout the years. He'd found himself falling in love with each version. But as she looked up at him with those big brown eyes, he knew this was the version he wanted to stay. He stared at her for a moment, her body tensing as her gaze dropped. "Look at me, kotenok."

She swallowed, her fingers just barely digging into her thighs, but still she looked back up at him. He frowned and tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her up until her face was pressed to his crotch. She kept her eyes frozen to him, as her hands reached to undo his pants. His hand came crashing down on her cheek, immediately leaving her skin red and her head twisted to the side. She kept completely silent other than an initial gasp.

"Did I give permission?"

"No, sir." Fuck all. She looked up at him with sweetest look of shame and so help him god he wanted to see it some more. He stood, his fingers curling under her collar as he dragged her back. Maybe she hadn't noticed yet, but he'd moved the coffee table against the wall to have more room for his plan today. "What are you-" Her voice cut off as he pulled the collar taut.

He crouched beside her, as he slowly pushed her on her back onto the rug. Her eyes went from fearful to a slow realization. "I should have asked, moy korol."

"Right. So what's going to happen now, hm?" His voice challenged, hoping she wouldn't fail again. He already found himself disappointed she was still addressing him by their nicknames, but in all fairness, this also gave him good pretenses to let her really have it this time. He'd baited her and she'd taken it.

"The...the cane, korol." The answer was soft and gave her nervousness away. He knew she hated disappointing him.

His lips twitched and he pulled the collar tight again and watched her legs kick and twist in a struggle to regain her breath when he held on too long. "What's my name, kisa?" He asked, his irritation finally showing as he turned her on all fours and made her crawl forward. "You agreed to this, didn't you?" His hands moved quickly as he grabbed the ring on her collar and found the small chain under the coffee table. It didn't have enough slack for her to lift her head, forcing her to either completely prostrate herself or lift that lovely behind for him. To his delight she chose the latter, making the perfect view for him as he stripped her of her shorts in one uncomfortable pull. The way her body fell forward caused her to strike her face on the bottom edge of the table, but he did nothing to console her.

His hand reached for the retractable cane they kept concealed under the lip of the table and she visibly flinched when he flicked it to its full length. Her ankles crossed over each other, probably anticipating being bound, but she was still shivering. "Yes, master." Her voice tapered at the end as if she was still ashamed to say it. No that's not right. She was embarrassed she made a mistake and they both knew it.

Thwack. The thin rod made contact with the back of her thighs and she lurched only to be stopped by the chain keeping her caught. Without even checking, he knew she was biting her lip to stop her cries. "That won't do, kisa. Not this time. Open that pretty little mouth or so help me I will do this until your entire back bleeds." His arm raised again and this time she let out a pained yelp. Again and again, he struck, until her voice turned into squeals and she was making herself as small as she could. Gone was the obedient woman he'd enjoyed before she made a mistake, replaced instead by sniffles and sobs of a beaten pet. He used his foot to push her legs apart, pushing the cloth of her panties aside and slid his fingers teasingly on her. She squealed again, but this time not in pain.

He laughed now, a hearty one, "Nravitsya li eto moyemu kotenku?" When she didn't respond he slipped his fingers in, feeling just how slick she'd gotten for him. Her back and legs were covered in gnarly welts, most bleeding, and yet her body would always respond well. "Answer me." His tone was soft as he rubbed the tip of the cane on her skin, spelling out his name absent mindedly in her blood before shoving the handle between her teeth and standing up. For a good moment he watched as she stayed head down, biting into the handle so it wouldn’t drop.

He moved around her before getting an idea. He took quick long strides to his office, making a beeline to retrieve a small metal object he'd been keeping tucked away in a drawer. It had been a small gift from Glen; one Glen had insisted he use soon to up the ante just a hair. When he returned to her she put her head down so the handle was resting on the floor and she wouldn't drop it. It almost made him laugh and wonder if maybe she could last the night with what he had in mind.

"Catherine. I have a little something for you. It was bought with you in mind, you know." He reached down and smoothed her hair out of her face, where she proceeded to swallow the bit of saliva that was about to spill onto the rug. "Give it." He held out his hand and she lifted her head to drop the handle in his hand. Her spit smeared on his palm, but he simply wiped his hand on her cheek where she grimaced unhappily. That earned her a smirk. "It's present time, kisa," His voice was deep, deeper than usual. He'd been itching to use this for a little while now, seeing when would be best.

In his other hand he showed her, "Do you recognize this?"

Catherine shook her head. It was metal covered in black silicone, a metal jutting out like a tongue, and oddly shaped almost reminding her of those novelty wind up teeth.

"Open." It was a command, which she obediently obeyed. The item was unceremoniously shoved into her mouth and she whined in surprise. It was a gag and the way he'd tightened it, it spread her mouth just a little too much to be comfortable long-term. "There we go. Pretty as a daisy." His hands patted her cheek, rubbing the corner of her mouth just barely against the metal joint that were a centimeter shy of biting into her. "Comfortable?" He asked, but it wasn't the truth he was seeking. She could tell that easily by the way his eyes lit up, looking at her so she nodded.

"Don't drop it," He warned with a pause before continuing. "And Catherine? Consider it a small blessing since we were able to avoid a permanent trip to WRU, hm. " He stood back up, watching as she avoided looking at him again. He could feel his brow twitch when she wouldn't face him. Fine. She could sleep there tonight. Maybe then she’ll learn to act right.

#whump #pet whump #whump writing #I'm bad at tw #so please forgive me

[okaydoll1301]

7. Ok

"You want me to what?!" Catherine stood up and Miles sat her back down. His hand rested on her shoulder as he looked at her as if he hadn't just suggested what he did.

She'd gone for her run, feeling refreshed after the rough night and feeling guilty about her pathetic need for Miles to help her out. That guilt was starting to fade fast. "Are you nuts?" She snapped, pushing his hand off of her shoulder.

"It's not me asking you to go in as one of their volunteers. I got invited to tour the facilities and I wanted you to join." Miles spoke calmly, even shrugging as if it really wasn’t a big deal. He had considered holding off on suggesting this after she'd been shutting herself away for weeks, but last night convinced him it was time. Watching her fall apart like this every now and then had seemed almost therapeutic to watch but now he wanted, no needed, her to rattle out of it. He needed her back. He needed her to stop thinking about their past and stop denying everything. This will work, he kept telling himself in his head. I'll make it work.

His hand brushed the buckle of the collar at the nape of her neck, and she swallowed hard. The way her neck moved under the leather only displayed the bruises that had begun forming in the most tantalizing of ways. She'd definitely need to wear the right clothing and makeup to cover all of it up, but she would do it without thinking. It was simply another part of her routine. "It's a small tour. I think it would be good for you."

She glared daggers at him and then her brows furrowed as her rubbed the underside of her jaw. Her eyes closed slowly, revealing how starved she'd made herself for his affection.  Even if she was simply using him to soothe the aches of old times, last night had been evidence of that.

She'd spent weeks isolating herself, and other than the occasional good morning when he caught her after her run, it was all they'd seen of each other. But she had been circling the drain far longer than that. The random outbursts she had, storming the house with her prattling off about new chapters had dwindled. The singing he would always here from the bedroom, the showers, everything had fizzled until it was mostly silence in the house. He stocked up on smoothies and chips knowing she’d want them randomly at night. Every week he’d take a quick stock and order more. It hurt, knowing somehow, she still hadn’t gotten past the scars they carried. He was almost arrogant in thinking he had, even though they both knew that wasn’t the case. But for her he'd left her alone, knowing this little dip of hers would eventually give way. It always did.

He never stopped touching her and all of her argument simply vanished, melting under the touch of his cool hands. He leaned over just a bit, twisting one of her waves around his fingers. He couldn’t help but think of the couple of pets Glen had shown to him and just how similar she acted to them. They had always been some degree of dependent, but was it mostly him or was it mostly her? It had been a question that nagged him so many years. The answer should have been easy as her lips parted and she never moved an inch anywhere but closer to him as his thumb traced the grey under her eyes. Without an ounce of training. It all seemed so natural; for both of them.

"You're going to go, kisa. I don't want to fight about it anymore than we have to." His fingers slipped under the collar, the same collar he had made by hand for her. Each moment they spent together now he felt he had to touch her, tell her to snap out of it. That he could make it so easy for her if she just said yes.

As he watched her shoulders fall, her chin tilt, the way she finally stopped chewing the inside of her cheek he reminisced about one of the luckiest nights of his life. She’d actually confessed to him. Not of love, that had always been unspoken and granted, but of a need he’d only dreamed of. He should have been elated that night, beyond ecstatic to accept it; her little confession that she wanted to be his and only his, collar, brand and all. He hadn’t been. She'd been such a mess. How could he possibly believe her just like that? It may have taken him ages after to accept it out of worry it had just been a late-night rollercoaster. She was full of those. Still, how could he resist even if it hadn’t been an entirely lucid act from her? The next morning she’d kept the collar on and his mind had still been reeling. She did take it off to shower, of course, and when she went on her binges, but it always stayed on, at least in the house.

Her sigh brought him back to the woman sitting across from him again. A flicker of an eyebrow crease again and her lips pouted ever so slightly, but when she opened her eyes, her expression was soft, "Ok."

It was a quiet concession. A little reluctant, but he'd accept it and act like he didn't know she was only appeasing him. Miles had to turn from her then, concealing the wicked little grin that was beginning to spread across his lips. "Get dressed in something nice. They're expecting us at 10." He called back at her without waiting for a response.

A year ago, he would have continued to wait patiently, considerate of her feelings and the issues she was dealing with. Now he didn't have to. She'd fight him, but only out of fear. If she turned out to be angry, he could crush it easily. She was never as angry as he was. And that only made it better. Miles knew her better than anyone else in the world and there wouldn't be anything to stand in his way now.

#whump #psychological whump #pet whump #wru

[okaydoll1301]

6. Just Another Night

TW: implied past abuse, nsfw

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Thunder shook the water in Catherine's bedside glass. Lately it had been raining every night and she found it far easier to sleep a solid night. Tonight was a different case because instead of the usual sleep of the dead she had since moving out, she shivered in her own bed, tossing and turning. Her skin was covered in a thin sheet of sweat. Each time she closed her eyes could feel hands, grabbing, twisting, pulling. The touch of a tongue on her waist felt like bile. The sinking of teeth in her shoulder threatening to rouse her from her nightmare never did. In the waking world she was whimpering, trying to pry the hands off without outright fighting. Fighting meant retaliation. Retaliation meant something worse than just pain.

Her legs kicked off the bedsheets and she sat upright, grabbing at the collar she had asked Miles to put back on her only days ago. Her eyes were cartoonishly wide. She covered her mouth, muffling the tiny sobs that threatened to break through. Her hands then rubbed down her skin as if trying to override what she'd just felt in her dreams. Even with her darker skin tone, anyone could see how her skin was red and irritated around her eyes as evidence of the weeping willow she'd become. She'd receded into herself more, avoiding calls from her friends and keeping her door closed so Miles wouldn't ask questions.

A soft knock on the door jarred her self-soothing. "Cat..." Miles’s voice rang out softly, like a whisper of the wind. She wiped her tears away and wondered if she'd imagined hearing him. "Kisa. I'm coming in." His voice somehow carried over the ever-present rhythm of the thunderstorm drawing closer.

She didn't react this time, simply starting ahead at the painting she'd only gotten halfway through sitting on the easel. She'd posted it in her room like an ugly taunt to herself that she couldn't finish anything.

The door opened slowly and the thunder masked Miles' heavy footsteps. Nothing was said as he slipped into the bed with her and cradled her close. She was trembling, a fact she hadn't noticed until his solid touch held her still. Slowly her eyes closed again, and her lips sought his skin; an exchange of affection for recompense that outweighed her efforts. Erase it. Cover it all.

His hand dug into her thigh painfully as he straddled her over his lap. The lightning lit the room through the barely-there slits at the edges of the curtains. She was already digging her hands into his hair and entangling in his shorter waves. She gripped tightly and groaned when his teeth sank into her breast. Harder. Please more. 

Droplets of blood broke through the broken skin as he lay her back. Her thighs parted invitingly, but not in a way anyone but they understood as once again his teeth bit at her waist. His canines dug without reservation, and once more he drew blood. She muffled the moans and cries as her hips lifted. Again. Please, again.

Miles dug his fingers into her hips again with a hold hard enough to promise black bruises the next morning. His body crushed hers, his arm enveloping her until she felt like she couldn't breathe without it. His body became a wall to hers as he forced her shape to him, her emotions still high enough that she wasn't as pliant as she usually was. He coaxed her compliance despite her numbness by slipping his hands down her skin, pressing and prodding until he had her exactly the way he wanted her.

Thunder crashed and shook the apartment, but both were deaf to it as he marked her back, dwarfing the shape of her with the shape of his teeth on her shoulders and waist. Each scar was covered by his new marks, erased every time she asked every few weeks. Their silent practice she still covered with shame for weeks after.

She turned onto her back again and with the flash of lightning he could see her eyes staring up at him, finally seeing him. Her smile was still gone as her lips twisted in pain when his hands pried her thighs apart. Her eyes shut tight, knowing their ritual was almost done.

This time she didn't stop the scream as he ripped just between her thighs. Her tears cascaded now as he pressed his coated lips to hers. She could taste the blood, the sweat, the taste of her on him and she savored how soft his full lips felt against hers. A sense of security washed over her as his hands wrapped around her throat and squeezed. She no longer fought this part like she had the very first time. She forced herself to focus on his lips and his breathing until her body wanted to fight for survival. By then it was too late and her vision darkened at the corners until she saw nothing at all and her body went limp on the bedsheets.

The back of this fingertips brushed her cheek softly as he checked her pulse with his lips pressed to the pulse point on her wrist. Satisfied, he left a kiss on her skin before gathering the supplies from the small first aid kit she always had under her bed. She no longer wept and no longer tossed as he carefully wiped the bloody bite marks down and bandaged her. A few days would pass, and they would heal enough for her to uncover them, baring them for him to finally enjoy the view. Her skin would be mottled with purple coloration from each mark. He smeared ointment on the torn skin on her shoulder, knowing he should not be happy she was having the nightmares again. But it always stopped her from seeing anyone for at least a while and that…that made him happy.

His thumb rubbed the blood from the leather she wore around her neck. The bell chimed softly in protest. One day it would bear his name. One day soon.

#whump writing #whump #psychological whump

[okaydoll1301]

the urge to make ocs of a god and their special little mortal (soldier? priest? jester?) so i can put them in situations (healthy relationship) (ritual sacrifice)

[okaydoll1301]

5. Meetings

As usual, Miles was able to walk another entrance designated specifically for people working there. He'd taken a ride since he couldn't exactly show up on his motorcycle. The temporary badge he wore allowed him access only to the main floor, but at least he didn't have to go through the main entrance.

He'd recalled another time he'd gone in and saw a young man coming through those doors. He looked disoriented and a bit hollow. There was paperwork and formalities, legal jargon no average person could possibly be expected to understand. He missed what happened after that since he had the meeting with the WRU Social Media Manager and the Digital Marketer. When he came back out the lobby was as quiet as ever and he was left to use his imagination as to what had happened to the guy. Today he sat off to a side, not intent on seeing another soul come in and sign their life away.

Yes, he was not the sweetest guy, not by a long shot. But he also knew that not everything companies did was legal, never mind ethical. His mind wandered to Catherine, growing frustrated as he thought of how vehemently she always denied the best parts of herself. Then again, he was biased. He enjoyed it when she hurt for him, but he needed her to do it willingly and on her own. It made it so much better than what he suspected was going on here at WRU.

"Mr. Vasiliev?" A man, Glen, as he'd introduced himself at the start of the project, approached Miles and he got up, waving off the thoughts in his head as they greeted each other. Formalities, formalities. They went to the conference room and set to work immediately. The better part of two hours was spent pouring over every last detail and prospects for changes in the future such as displays, discretion, security, options for certain clientele, etc. Miles noticed how occasionally he saw Glen pause listening to something through an earpiece. He never understood why they didn't conference them in, but the customer was always right. They started wrapping up and Miles was feeling more confident they would be all set. Very minor changes were needed, and they were purely aesthetic. Maybe he could finish tomorrow. Finally. He was already thinking of the way he'd make this all up to Cat.

Glen sat back in his chair then, a relaxed demeanor from a glance. Miles knew better with the micro expression Glen gave though. A small upturn of the lips, the tiniest raise of his brow. All dead giveaways. "So Mr. Vasiliev or…Miles? We've been working together some time now. Are you ok with me calling you that?"

"Of course," Miles mimicked his stance even if he didn't lounge quite as much as Glen did.

Glen grinned heartily though his eye didn't crinkle quite right. "I did notice the lack of a ring on your finger. You seem like a man with good taste. Have you ever thought of looking at one of our pets yourself?" Miles wanted to laugh. He'd seen plenty of married people beginning to take their pets out in the city. Good marketing, he supposed. Or maybe just human nature taking its course. There wasn't really ever a time in mankind's history where humans didn't serve other humans. Hierarchy and all that.

Miles really was trying not to grin. Catherine was one of the few things that evoked anything close to pure warmth and pleasure. "No, sir. I haven't. I have to admit I've browsed, but I have a lovely woman waiting for me at home. Although," Now or never. "I was a bit curious about the training aspect. My understanding is you only do this after some sort of memory wipe?"

Glen's grin grew, the wrinkles of his eyes now matching, "Not all ask for a memory wipe. Those tend to be walk-ins. Plenty also opt for the training without. Was there something you were seeking out in particular? Being so wrapped up in this site and seeing all our little details I imagine something caught your eye."

Miles shook his head. He knew exactly what he wanted from Cat. Otherwise, she was perfect. Sure a few tweaks here and there, but if she could just get over that hump… Miles could feel himself growing irritated and excited already. How he had managed to be so patient for so long he didn't know.

"Well, we do offer the training services if you'd be interested. Since we've worked together for some time, I'm sure we could work a deal out. The directors were just mentioning they would like to work with you further. They've been impressed with everything, and we'd enjoy a continued business relationship."

Inflections. A move forward in the seat. Miles didn't entirely mirror Glen, but he couldn't act entirely disinterested so he had to measure these things. "I'm only contracted with this company for another few weeks. If you'd be interested in continuing this outside of them, I'd be more than happy to have you take a deeper dive into my portfolio." This is when Miles cocked his head slightly a hand stretched out just slightly, almost graceful, "I can do nearly anything online, but I won't touch social media management. It's never been a thing I care for."

Glen grinned; this time his crow's feet creased making Miles wonder exactly how old he was. "I think we can work something out directly. And if you're curious about our training I'd be more than happy to show you around. After some concessions, of course…"

#whump #whump writing #pet whump #psychological whump

[okaydoll1301]

This looks good. Can’t wait to see what everyone does here.

What up, whump fam?!

June of Doom 2024 Prompts!

We've brought back some old favorites/ popular prompts from last year with a healthy dash of new!

Please feel free to participate with original or fan works of any kind (writing, photos, gifs, mood boards, videos, songs, whatever creative medium your heart desires!). You can do one or all of the prompts on any given day, and if none are to your liking, check out the alternate prompts!

Two rules this year!

As with last year, tag your stuff with appropriate warnings, plzkthnx.

AI-created content is highly discouraged and frowned upon. I have no way of "checking", but I respect the time and effort people put into their crafts and encourage everyone to do the same. This isn't a contest for best written or prettiest art — it's a challenge, so challenge yourself.

Text list below the cut for easier crossings-off. And don't forget to tag @juneofdoom so I can reblog your awesome here! Have fun!

“Help me.”                                        | Failed Escape | On the Run | Fetal Position |

“It didn’t have to be this way.”             | Scream | Double Cross | Made to Watch |

“Well, well, well…”                            | Hiding | Ambushed | Stalking |

“Does that hurt?”                               | Impalement | Fracture | Punishment |

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”                 | Bite | Swelling | Disfiguration |

“They don’t care about you.”               | Flinch | Broken Promise | Abandoned |

“What happened?”                            | Nightmare | Isolation | Stumbling |

“This is your last chance.”                    | Drowning | Chair | Prisoner Trade |

“I made a mistake.”                            | Accident | Acceptance | Blame |

“Can you hear me?”                           | Fear | Smoke | Phone Call |

“We’re out of time.”                           | Bleeding Out | Collapse | Flatline |

“I can’t stand seeing you like this.”        | Dehydration | Grief | Coma |

“Wait!”                                             | Sacrifice | Adrenaline | Cornered |

“What were you thinking?”                  | Surrender | Human Shield | Outmatched |

“Get me out of here!”                         | Rescue | Chainsaw | Presumed Dead |

“At least it can’t get any worse.”           | Secret | Stranded | Setback |

“You don’t want to do that.”                | Struggle | Blackmail | Desperate Measures |

“I’m fine.”                                         | Self-defense | Allergies | Headache |

“This can’t be happening!”                  | Sobbing | Straitjacket | Dissociation |

“I can handle it.”                                | Scrape | Panic Attack | Neglect |

“Let’s play a game. “                           | Stairs | Pressure Points | Trap Door |

“What’s the bad news?”                      | Poison | Bedridden | Cauterization |

“You’re doing great.”                         | Trembling | Gaslighting | Rules |

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”                  | Blankets | Stitches | Bandages |

“I should have listened to you.”           | Guilt | Backseat | Failure |

“Don’t lie to me.”                               | Rage | Choke | Paranoia |

“Or what?”                                       | Defiance | Display | Last Resort |

“Say something.”                               | Numb | Cold Shoulder | Gag |

“I’m so cold.”                                    | Delirium | Fever | Exposure |

“Breathe, damn you!”                         | Shock | Asphyxiation | Emergency Room |

ALTERNATE PROMPTS

“Who did this to you?”

“Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not okay.”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“You poor thing.”

Attending Your Own Funeral

Broken Glass

Mask

Whip

Obedience

[okaydoll1301]

I will definitely need to do this little prompt sometime soon!

whumpee hiding from whumper and being found. instead of taking them back, whumper sends them to another whumper

[okaydoll1301]

4. Small Regressions

Miles took quite some time to learn to be happy. To smile and joke and laugh. Catherine always smiled, always laughed. It was when she stopped that he smiled and laughed for her.

When he can't smile and laugh for her anymore was when she knew things were getting bad again. Only she knew what bad meant. And he didn't think it was bad.

I think I'll always have a soft spot for this pair.

--------------------------------------------

The pretty green eyes that stared back at her from her sketchbook irked her. She recalled how weeks ago she’d seen that pet trailing behind it’s owners in the restaurant. He'd been so calm being paraded around like that, as if he truly was just some show dog. Her lips quirked into a disgusted look, but her eyes sparked. Without thinking she put a new canvas on the easel, mindlessly selecting her colors as she could only think of those green eyes.

Blues, reds, oranges, purples, and yellows; not a single muted color. As if in a trance her hands moved, wafting over the canvas as her hands brushed it before she could think. Only bare traces of oil paint touched the canvas and then they became arcs, fluid and strident. Her fingers soon became covered in paint, streaks of red smudged her cheek. She didn't notice when the figures began to show, one with royal blues, greens, and purples. Its hand out but not reaching as it stood over the other with one foot forward as if taunting the other figure to come closer. It was the one on ground, reaching out with muted pleas that she painted red, calming greens, and yellows as its hand reached out for the other that would never return the sentiment.

Miles knocking on the door jolted her out of it and she answered mechanically for him to come in. She smiled warmly at him as if nothing was the matter at all. His eyes scanned over the painting as he matched her smile. "Hey. So I'm gonna bolt for a bit. One of the clients wanted to meet in person for some changes-"

"WRU?" Catherine interrupted while her eyes still gleamed as she searched his face.

For a moment he lost his composure, but his reply was quick. He wasn't continuing the conversation. He knew where this was going, and he didn't have the time to go there. "Yeah."

The silence was thick until she turned back, looking at her painting again. She had seen how he was reading her face and today found she hated that ability of his. Why was he being so quiet about it? She supposed after all this time they could continue to deny each other when it suited them both.

"Were you ever going to mention it? That company...they sell people." She couldn't help the way her voice quivered, tapering off at the end.

His hand reached out for her shoulder, then snaked around her throat and up to cover her mouth, engulfing her face as if she needed a reminder of just how odd their relationship had gotten. Her eyes closed slowly as she relished his touch. She wanted to feel him as he’d been only months ago. Playful, casual, bound by the “normal” things they had both learned to abide by. Instead, all he’d done was regress back to his childhood self. There were less smiles, he became aloof, and at home he simply went through the motions. It was painful to watch all the training he’d done going down the drain. Learning to smile and care again was going to take time. It seemed a losing battle though. Since he’d started this work with WRU it seemed he wasn’t interested in trying anymore.

The slight stubble of his cheek pressed to hers as he emitted the softest laugh and she was brought back to this moment. He dropped his hand to her shoulder, but she could feel him tortuously close. Her breath quickened while her hands shook in her lap like the flutter of wings. It had been so long since he’d touched her like this it almost didn’t feel right anymore.

His voice dipped deep into her head as he mumbled into her ear. "They’re pets, moy kisa. A little like you, don't you think?" The bell on her neck chimed when he flicked it gently, and for a moment she felt her eyes heavy. “We could always put the collar back on if you’re so jealous.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her neck.

She felt her stomach coiling, becoming twisted knots as she turned and looked at him with a scowl. "I’m not-"

Miles was already standing, straightening out his tie almost compulsively. He wasn't really one for ties, they felt suffocating, but knew it came with the presentation. His words interjected hers, feeling the same annoyance he always felt when she denied these kinds of things, "I've seen the way you look at them. But no one is going to sell you. You know that, right?"

"So just because it's not me it’s ok?" Her exasperation made him want to shake and comfort her in his arms all at once. He wanted so badly to tell her to kneel and watch those tears fall down her cheeks. Instead, they were just brimming her eyes, teasing him. Already he could imagine the soft sound of her sobs, the ones she’d stifle because she'd been taught to cry as quietly as a mouse. He wanted to taste the salt of her cheeks; the mint of the peppermint he knew she was sucking on as she unraveled in his arms.

He looked at her. He knew this was where he was supposed to say it wasn't ok. But this is why he was good at what he did. It was simply perspective. He knew it may have been too much to see and that he should have played the part to reassure her since she'd been struggling lately, but instead he glanced at his watch. "I have to go, Cat. I'm going to be late." He gave her one more stare, something that made her look down and away, before he walked out of the room.

One day she'd understand, he thought as he pulled out his keys and strode to the front door.

One day he'll smile like he used to, she swore to herself when she heard the front door shut.

#psychological whump #pet whump #whump writing #wru #whump

[okaydoll1301]

3. Sugars and pets

Sorry, void. I'm really terrible with trigger warnings and summaries. I hope to fix this soon. I'm one for the psychological and this one is soft today anyways.

---------------------------------

Pet. Platonic. Romantic. Remade. The morality question came up as WRU expanded in their area. It turned out they were not a new company, but they had sought him out as he was a well known designer within the company he contracted with. He stared at his screen, exhaustion setting in as he'd poured himself over this last site update. Social media was another beast and he found himself counting his graces they hadn't asked him to manage it.

Lately he hadn't been in the mood to meet with their friends. Instead he found himself holed up far too much in the office. Catherine hadn't said anything, lost in her own world as she'd painted and painted. He shook his head with a grin as he palmed and dragged a hand down his own face as if somehow it would wipe away the tiredness that threatened to make him want to quit.

The company was demanding, expecting perfection, constantly sending his work back with small criticques and change requests. He supposed it came with the territory of such high end clientelle. After all, how could you expect anything but the best when some of your product came with a half a million dollar price tag? Product. He scoffed, his eyebrows raising as he caught himself thinking that.

"Korol?" Her voice was just outside the door, but he caught a glimpse of her eyes peering in.

Shit. Mile's locked his computer screen. It had been a few months already and he'd managed to hide his work from her. He was nearly done, paycheck in hand. A big one. He couldn't afford to have her find out now. He was too close.

He hummed, letting her know she could come in. Which of course she did with her hand on the little bell she always wore even in the shower. Her steps were small and measured, and yet the bell chimed with each small stride closer to him. He could see her eyes flit over the now black computer monitors and a micro-twitch of her lips in a frown. It was then that he knew she'd seen it, when the smile she gave him was soft and controlled. "I know you've been working like crazy, but I think we've both been holed up too long. Was thinking we could go get some waffles or something? Unless you're determined to rot away here." Her eyebrows raised and that all too familiar smirk formed on her face as she leaned against the doorway.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankles, "Waffles? You mean you're going to make me some of yours? Piled with so much sugar I swear you're trying to give me diabetes."

She rolled her eyes and turned away to talk off, "I'll bet Alex would be happy to come with me instead.. I'm sure he's done with that last one anyways. He did always want to go out on a date. I'm sure he'd pick up now." The teasing tone crept in with a knowing smirk on her lips.

Miles got up immediately, pushing her head down in a playful way as she elbowed him in the ribs. Quickly the tension dissipated and they were all tangles as they chased each other around the kitchen island, each trying to knock the other one down. For just a moment it was like they were ten again, squabbling over who ate the last popsicle in the freezer at her house. She grabbed one of the stools and used it as a barricade when he got too close, screaming in laughter with her tongue sticking out at him and a mischieviuos glint in her eyes.

"You runt!" He reached for her, just missing her arm by an inch as she bolted again to her own room.

"Change, korol. You look like a frumpy CEO." Her shouts through the door made him laugh because she was right. He was still in long sleeved button up, his tie hanging crooked, no shoes, only socks. He hadn't bothered to change from the evening video call the WRU media designer had with him. But with the promise of waffles, he quickly changed back in his bedroom into something a bit comfier. In minutes he popped out of the bedroom just as she did. Her pants hung low on her waist, just showing the small scar she had right above her panty-line. He tried to ignore the fact that all of her clothes had been fitting a little too loose lately since he couldn't exactly say anything himself. He'd been putting on weight from the stress with the WRU deadline coming so close; side effects of contract work.

The walk to the small restaurant they'd frequented since moving to the city was fairly empty, except a handful of patrons. They were seated promptly and it took all of 3 seconds for them to order. She chose something piled with fruit and even told them to hold the powdered sugar. "How can you possibly leave me hanging with your healthy choices?" He teased as he'd picked one of the sweetest choices. It was basically chocolate and sugar on top of more chocolate and sugar.

She flicked a piece of straw paper at him, hitting square on his forehead, "Not my fault you stole my sweet tooth."

"Bullshit, Cat." He grabbed a bigger piece of napkin and flicked it back at her, hitting her in the cheek. The grin he wore could have broken a heart, but she hardly noticed as she aimed for his forehead. It sailed straight over his head and she kicked him playfully under the table when she tried and missed yet again.

It was the hushed argument of a customer trying to get in the restaurant that broke their playful banter. It was a couple seemingly out for a midnight treat just like them. Catherine looked away immediately, red painting her cheeks like two perfectly painted streaks of blush. There was a man, heighted between the man and woman, standing just outside of the restaurant doors. His collar was almost non-descript, but the tracking tag on his ear was not as it shined almost ominously under the street lights. "It absolutely cannot come in."

"And why the hell not? He's far more well behaved than that mutt I saw you allow in last week."

"That was-" The hostess stood her ground, speaking quieter as she finished her sentence. One of her hands was on her hip as she put back menus after making it clear she was not going to seat them.

The manager walked over quickly, seemingly trying to rescue his staff as one of the waitresses looked caught in the crossfire. There were hushed tones, the inflections of both the wife going up and down until the husband began to talk. "Sir. Ma'am. I can assure you we have no issues with him coming in. Please order dessert on us." The customer service voice came out and the woman seemed to glare daggers at the hostess.

"He's not an it," The woman slipped in as the trio walked past the hostess. The hostess gave a disgusted look as the pet walked past her as they were seated. His movements were fluid and it seemed he didn't even notice the hostess at all. She muttered some words to him that neither Miles nor Catherine could make out. He still remained impassive, following the couple silently.

Catherine's teeth began gnawing at her cheek as she shifted in her seat. Miles sat relaxed, seemingly unfazed, but inside he felt a rise in his belly watching Catherine fidget uncomfortably. "Miles….is that-" Her words died before she could continue. Her eyes watched as the man knelt quietly under the table and stayed silently like an obedient dog.

Miles fought back his smirk as he watched Catherine. “Yes, moy kisa. He’s what you think he is.” There was almost a jealousy to her gaze as she watched the pet settle in at the table. Her eyes seemed to almost caress the collar he wore, her pupils dilating as her hand reflexively went to her own throat.

It was when Catherine cleared her throat and looked back at Miles that he made sure his expression was entirely neutral, stuffing a spoonful of chocolate syrup covered waffle in his mouth.

#psychological whump #pet whump #whump writing #whump

[okaydoll1301]

2. Curiosities and Money

Catherine started scouring the sites, trying to find inspiration. Her usual sources were pulling flat since they were just as busy as her. Hobbies always made it to the wayside, especially when money wasn't flowing. She chewed the inside of her cheek, beginning to pull at the corner of her lips.

A frown began to form as she typed something new. She needed a reference for this one and she wasn't looking to ask Miles to help her out this time. She'd begun seeing the usual signs of his stress. He holed up in his office more, the gray under his eyes was returning, and his nails were bitten short. With him out of their apartment for the morning she moved to the living room, laptop in one hand as she flopped on the couch. She opened it back up and set about looking again. Except when she started scrolling, she began to notice the pictures on the sides. Perfect poses.

Bewitching. Beckoning.

Submissive.

Curiosity got the best of her and she clicked. A website for a company called WRU pulled up and she frowned again. She'd overheard Miles talking about them. She hadn't meant to overhear, but when his voice carried over from his conversations in the kitchen to her bedroom, how could she not listen? It wasn't like they hid much from each other anyways. Suppose that's what happens when you basically grow up together, and they'd gotten unhealthily attached to each other. Or maybe that was just her. Her heart ached when she thought about it so she refocused on the site.

It almost presented like an adoption agency and they played their words that way too, but something about it felt unsettling, like it was a kind of unwitting servitude. Her hand had slowly found it's way to her throat, playing with the small bell she kept there to calm her. Who the hell would do this? Guilt hit her as something gnawed at her stomach, knowing the answer to it. But it wasn't something she'd voice. This felt wrong. All wrong. Wrong, sick, twisted. Sinful.

She felt her stomach lurch and she sat up, closing her laptop with a slam. Her feet found solid ground before she could stop herself and she had made her way to the restroom, retching into the toilet before the sound of Miles' returning could be heard through the ringing in her ears.

"Cat?" His voice was panicked as he ran into her room and found her vomiting, knees on the cold tile floor. "What's wrong?"

Nothing. She just shook her head before she retched again. Her hand held the bell still, not wanting to associate this with the calming little mantra she'd made for herself. But his hands found her hair anyways as he held it back, his body already molding to the back of hers as she braced herself on the toilet seat. Her cheeks were speckling with broken blood vessels and her stomach and throat stung from the strain. But even when her stomach emptied of food acid came up. It burned. Her stomach was aching. Her mouth tasted of bile and she wanted to gag again when there was nothing else to throw up.

"It's gonna be ok. We're home, ok? No one else is here. They're not here anymore," Miles soothed. His voice had always been like a balm, reaching her in the deepest depths.

She nodded, movements less robotic as she knelt for a while. He reached out and flushed the toilet, slowly bringing her to her feet so he could help her rinse her mouth and brush her teeth. Her eyes were glazed as he lifted her chin and checked her teeth. All he did was sigh before bringing her close and she melted in return.

"Sorry," It was the only word she managed to murmur while burying herself in his arms.

"I don’t know why you insist on apologizing. When have you ever left me hanging when I needed it?" He leaned over and kissed the top of her head, wondering if either of them would ever really be able to get through a week without an episode. For now, he was happy to hold her close. Later he would remind her everything was fine.

Minutes later she rubbed at her face before settling back down. Then without taking away her arms she'd rewrapped around his waist she looked up at him and grinned. If he didn't know her any better he would assume she was just fine with those big round eyes looking up at him, "I'm good."

Miles frowned as he nodded tersely, but didn't push it. How could he when he felt her tensing just so she wouldn't shake? When she released him he walked to the kitchen, a casual walk as undid his tie and button up so he could lay them across the back of one of the stools. His hand tousled his hair, undoing the clean business style he'd fashioned it into this morning, causing his hair to spill just over his eyes and all over the place in a chaotic disarray.

It may have seen like an odd arrangement, as Catherine herself simply went back to the couch and opened her laptop again while he put a quick snack together for her. But they'd been doing this so long it was automatic. He turned on the blender after he tossed in some fruits, looking over at her on the laptop. He'd noticed her losing weight lately and now she was eerily quiet, causing an unsettling concern to creep through his chest. She was too absorbed in whatever was on the laptop as she shifted and he caught a glimpse of the screen. WRU. It was in cool blue letters, trying so hard to evoke an ethical, trustworthy company image. Something he was sure was a facade as all corporations did. He felt the twinge he'd had when he'd first saw the ads, but tried to shake it off as he poured the smoothie into two cups.

A quick swing around the kitchen island and he sat next to her on the couch. She immediately snapped the laptop shut with a deer in the headlights stare. For a moment everything on her froze until she saw the smoothie and smiled happily as if she hadn't just been looking at such a thing.

Maybe she hadn't reacted that way over the site. Maybe something else had triggered it. But her unfocused gaze as she took the cup told him he had to be honest with himself. Miles hadn't told her he was helping with some of their advertising. She couldn't find out, no matter how good the money.

#pet whump #whump writing #whump

[okaydoll1301]

1. Ads

Miles held the remote, sliding through the different movies and shows recommended to him after so many years of having this streaming service. There was a sigh from him as he couldn't exactly decide. Looking down at Catherine asleep with her head and arm over his lap he didn't think turning on something would be the best idea; even if she could sleep through an elephant stampede.

Her nose crinkled and he chuckled almost silently as he brushed his finger over her nose. She relaxed and her face went serene once more, something he could only see on her face when she was asleep.

Deciding he didn't want to ruin this moment of peace for her, he pulled out his phone, anything to kill the time. His thumb moved, scrolling nonsensically through posts and vidoes, only a few videos of adrenaline junkies and new artists catching his attention. He always did enjoy art more than the average person. He kept scrolling, knowing that was mostly due to his mother and finding himself a bit annoyed by the face.

Pets. Companions. He had started seeing more of these ads lately. He brushed his hand through Catherine's hair without a thought when curioustiy peaked and he found himself clicking one of them. It had a picture of a pretty, all legs woman kneeling with a bright smile on her face as a masked man seemed to be patting her head. Miles felt a twinge and shifted carefully on the couch. For a moment he recalled Catherine looking up at him adoringly one night. It had been an image he couldnt get out of his head.

A video began to play, advertising human pets. For a moment he frowned, feeling like he shouldn't approve of this, but he still kept watching.

Catherine mumbled in her sleep, incoherent, but he could hear the distress. Another nightmare. He hushed her and rubber her cheek with thumb as he held her jaw still, silencing her intelligble babbles. Slowly she calmed, relaxing again under his touch and he was able to concentrate on the ad again.

Miles found himself looking at listings. WRU profiles for a handful of pets who had been succesfully "adopted". More smiles, more alluring poses. A list of skills each type could do and the added note that customizations could be made for additional charges. His brows furrowed. There was no doubt in his mind that he understood the appeal of all of this. Not that he wanted one. But he had been overhearing some of his clients discussing the upcoming company WRU and their prospects of working with them carrying an impressively high bid point.

WRU. It had become impossible to not hear that name. They had become particularly popular, with the beautiful and powerful showing off their brand new pets. It looked so perfect - too happy, too clean.

With a shake of his head and a sigh he set his phone back down and began scrolling through the shows on the tv again, deciding he'd just go ahead and watch the latest episode to a surivial show he'd gotten into lately.

Catherine slept peacefully, oblivious to the stirrings in Miles' mind as his mind kept drifting back to the ad. The sound of a knife chipping away at wood on the tv screen didn't quite register.

#pet whump #whump writing #wru

[okaydoll1301]

PET AU

I saw an anon ask for another asking about the pet test. I've been way too invested in the whole pet universe and wanted to see if I could put my favorite OC couple in it a bit, because that's the society they live in. Just little clips. Who needs WRU when you have a partner oh so willing?

Still. I'd love to see what might be in a pet test.

----------------------------------------

What is considered deviant in our society? What does not fit?

Those who don't want to work. Non-worker bees. An overflow of creatives. Fighting for rights the government doesn't want you to have. Too invested in truths and curiousities that should be kept silent Those who cannot contribute to society in a good way.

So What do you ask to be able to test for this? Is it like a career map? Asking things you like to do, your future plans, responses to certain scenarios?

What about those who lack intelligence even if they're aware of it. Those who already have a tendency to want to be…submissive anyways Or they got too curious, too invested

It's the best way to silence them

So maybe it's a bit of a personality test. Like the MBTI. If they score in an area already prone to please…wouldn't it make sense to allow them to "be themselves"?

Which leads me to my next one.

In some twisted way, she's destroyed herself. After effects of the ugly things she's been through. Maybe he encouraged it a little. Who am I kidding. He did encourage it. And that made it deeper, a bigger sin, a bigger secret. Living a life she didn't want, but she needs to do it. She's strong, independent, capable.

So why is she on her knees begging him for it?

#whump writing #pet whump

[okaydoll1301]

His confession

Hello again, void.

I have a fondness for these two that I've been daydreaming about since middle school. I wish I could say I'd write a book about their story, but that's unlikely.

I've kinda grown up with them, putting them through hell and back.

They're both a little broken, both a little cocked in the head. But who doesn't love their messed up little OCs?

For now I'll put out snippets until maybe I can organize their timeline a little better and actually post them up in portions.

---------------------------

I chuckled in her ear as she groaned. Her hips turned and one leg slid up the other as she squirmed under me. I could smell the whiskey on her breath, a tinge of peach wafted the air as she exhaled. The touch of her hand on my chest did nothing except send a thrill through me. Tonight, she would forget everything as I nuzzled my nose against her neck, leaving the tiniest hickiest on her skin.

"Did you know I picked you? The day you came to our doorstep, crying about him was the day I said you were the one for me?" My voice was only a murmur, but it still elicited another soft moan as I walked my fingers up her stomach. The thin blouse she wore flitted up with my hand without argument. "I never knew someone could look so pretty when they cried. I've looked around and no one seems to do it like you do."

Another moan and a gasp as I brought her sleeves down her shoulders and bit her teasingly. The light fabric bunched around her chest like the most delicate lace.

I began to pull the button loose, exposing her bra to the chilled air in the rom. "Miles…" She moaned and her hands tangled in pillow and sheets under us. My fingers worked deftly as I slowly stripped her shirt away and unhooked the front clasp of her bra. It was a good thing I kept her drinking as I smirked. She wore these front clasped bras more simply because I'd mentioned liking them years ago.

"You were broken at such an early age, moy kisa. So am I, but who knew I'd enjoy you better this way," I buried my face between her breasts, before crushing one of her nipples between my fingers and sucked on the other. Her back arched to me and the little mewl that came out was intoxicating. I didn't need a drop of liquor to ever enjoy her. Why would I want to dampen the experience?

"My broken kitten. No one will want you the way I do. I'll take it all. These wicked little secrets you have. How you like to hurt, be destroyed." I grinned widely as I slipped my hands into her underwear and found her slick.

"Miles, please," Her voice was airy and delicate. "Gods, I hate you." She whispered out in her drunken daze, but it was true. She hated me as much as she loved and needed me. She made it all the more obvious as her hand tangled in my hair, pulling my mouth back to her perky nipple.

"Hate me, moy kisa. No else will want you like I do. I'll be your last. Even if someone tries, they'll see what an ugly creature you are and I'll pick up the pieces over and over."

As I spoke, I felt her legs beginning to wrap around me, pressing her skin to mine. Oh how she curved so perfectly to me. Her eyes fluttered, trying to keep them open when her mouth moved without a sound leaving the tip of her tongue. Stop. Please.

My hands tangled in her hair this time and held her still as I grabbed her thigh so hard I knew it would bruise tomorrow. She gritted her teeth and reached up to press her lips so hard to mine it was more a gnashing of teeth than a dance of lips. But when I tasted that coppery crimson I smeared it all over her collarbone.

"Only I can love you like this, moy kisa. And tomorrow even when you can't remember me saying this, we'll both know it's true. How could anyone love someone like you except me?"

#whump writing #whump #manipulative

[okaydoll1301]

Allergies

So I know others suffer from this, but I've never seen it written. In day to day, it's unintentional, but imagine if it wasn't. What if someone knew you had a reaction to something, and it would just shut you up for a time. I used to hate it. Feeling like this, but now I don't mind. It makes the times I go non-verbal easier to "explain", for the weird way my body reacts to make sense to others.

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I put my hand to my nose, trying to block out the scent as I scrunched my nose in annoyance. My brows furrowed and with a subtle huff I pushed the air out of my mouth. My eyes flitted through the crowd trying to ascertain where the smell was coming from. It smelled like home, but both my heart and body hated it. I turned around ready to beat the crowd outside when I saw him. He grinned widely and waved his hand, rushing to greet me. Inwardly, I groaned, not having the energy for him today, but waved back, putting on a broad smile I suspected was too large to look real.

"Hey, Cat! It's been a while."

"It has. It has," I murmured in almost a grumble as his arm went straight around me, pulling me a little tighter than I wanted. I grunted, masking it as a happy sound as I squeezed him back. Wow. I couldn't ignore the citrus scent coming off of him though. It hit me like a brick wall, immediately kicking my vertigo into overdrive as my world span and titled.

I swayed and he laughed. "Woah. Easy there."

The laugh I gave was awkward and forced, "I-I'm ok. Just, uh…I need a minute." I tried to smile, but my voice was already struggling, deepening already, threatening to vanish any second.

"Think maybe we need to get your outside for some fresh air?" He offered, sounding too helpful for someone who had caused the problem. Guilt struck me though when I realized he probably didnt know about it though. My sensitivity to scents was something I worked extremely hard to keep under wraps. Why? I didn't know why. Maybe I didn't want pity.

I shook my head, but he had already grabbed my arm and was dragging me out the front door of the shopping center. In my dizziness I was too focused on just not falling down. When he managed to drag me outside I opened my mouth to protest, but all that came out was an almost gravelly sound. I frowned, realizing my voice was gone. It was one of the many side effects of my issues. I patted his hand to signal him to let me go and he ignored it. I patted again, but he kept walking, one arm around me to support my weight as we walked.

The colors of the cars began to meld and I shook my head as if somehow it would rattle me enough to make sense of everything. Were we…were we walking into the parking lot? I shook my head again and put my hand to my temple. I staggered and he caught me, "Woah, Cat. You fall you might crack your head open."

I closed me eyes, the colors, the light. It was all too much. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest with how hard it was thrumming and my feet kept wanting to give way. For a moment I swore I heard the sound of a car door opening. My hands reached out for him, hoping to make sense of my surroundings. I felt him guiding me somewhere and the touch of his hand on my cheek. God, why was he wearing that lotion? It reeked so badly. "It's gonna be ok. Let's see if we can't find somewhere a little quiet. I know you can't talk anyways, so it'll be ok, right?"

I frowned then and opened my eyes. My eyes went wide when I saw the grin on his face, the spark in his eyes. But I wasn't feeling so great, and my body began to slump, being as uncooperative as possible and pissing me off. "Woah, now. I said I can't have you crack your head open and I wasn't kidding."

I tried even groaning, but nothing but a squeak came out. Then with everything still spinning and my body starting to shut down, everything went black as I slowly slipped down and into unconscionsness.

That god damned lotion.

#whump #whump writing