#b127oc

[i-eat-worlds]

The Subject Part 5

B127 does not have a good time in this one

CW: pet whump, medical whump, emeto, B127 has a flashback, implied abuse, implied forced feeding, fear of punishment, character with stutter, self dehumanizing

B127 lay in bed, tucked under a mound of blankets, trying to sleep like he was supposed to. It shouldn’t have been as hard as it was. He could spread out, instead of having to sleep cramped in a cage. The mattress was soft, and the pervasive chill of the lab was nally gone, banished by the soft blankets that Dr. Brenner had graciously provided.

But it didn’t seem to help. No matter how many times the subject tried to sink into the softness of the bed and float away, he was always yanked back to reality by the painful throb inside him. At least now it was only the inside that hurt. Dr. Brenner was very into giving his subjects luxuries, B127 had found. He could feel the soft white bandage gently tapped around his abdomen, the soreness of his ribs finally subsiding thanks to the painkillers he had so been graciously gifted. He should be able to fall asleep, but he just sat there worrying about what the next day would bring.

With Dr. Glassener, he’d at least always know what the day would entail-surgeries, and tests, and afterward, he would get food, and maybe even medicine and bandages if he had been good. But Dr. Brenner could do anything tomorrow. He almost wished the doctor would have told him what was happening tomorrow, but he could guess. At the old facility, first days always involved lots of measurements, tests, and examinations so the doctor could see what they had to work with. It would probably be the same here. B127 forced himself to take a breath-there wasn’t any point in being nervous, he already knew what would happen. He’d done it many, many times. Clinging onto the thought, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

*******************

Alica Perry, night nurse on ward C at the Rory Friedman Memorial Recovery Center was seated at the nurses' station, charting busily, when her attention was drawn by the sound of belching, and then a thump coming from room C6. She stood up, surprised at the fact that the call button hadn’t gone off when she remembered who was in C6.

New patients never dared to touch the call button, and this wasn't going to be any different. His worryingly thin file said that he had spent the last three years bouncing around Hemlock. Most that came in from Hemlock got sent because they were in a coma, three inches from death. The nurse was surprised that he had survived at all. She pulled a pair of purple nitrile gloves on as she entered the darkened hospital room, preparing herself for the smell of bodily fluids.

It was somehow worse than she could have imagined. B127 was rocking back and forth in the far corner of the room, crying and uttering nonsensical phrases to himself. A trail of vomit followed him from the bed to the corner, trailing down his face, and soaking the paper hospital gown. His eyes were dazed, clearly in another place. When she knelt down next to him, she could make out what he was saying. She wished she couldn’t.

“P…please doctor,” He begged, “It is s…sorry. It is so s…sorry for being so bad and v…vomiting. It k…knows it isn’t s…supposed to, please, please don’t make it t…take it back.” B127 was forced to stop by another wave of bile coming up his throat. The extra vomiting caused him to cry harder. “P…please don’t make it eat it, it will do anything else. Please.”

Alica swallowed as she gently placed her hand on his shoulder. “Hey, B127? B127?” She said softly. “B127 can you look at me?”

His gaze immediately fixed on her, before he dropped it, bowing his head a little. The faraway gaze still clouded his eyes. “Please, doctor. It is sorry. It is sorry. It is so so sorry.” He snied loudly. “Don’t make it…it eat it please!”

“I’m not going to, B127.” She gently tapped his shoulder again. “B127 can you look at me? B127?”

This time it worked, the cloudiness gone from his eyes, replaced with fear. “M…ma’am.” He said, quickly rolling into a kneeling position, head down low. “It…It is s…sorry.”

Alica stayed squatting down, not wanting to loom over him. “You don’t need to be sorry. It’s not your fault, you couldn’t control it. I’m not going to hurt you.” He looked like he didn’t believe her. “Can you stand up for me, B127?” The skinny man slowly rose to his feet, wobbly and unstable. He had to lean on the nurse to stay upright as she helped him over to bed. “Just sit down.” She guided him to a non-vomit covered corner of the bed.

“W…What are you gonna do to it?.” B127’s voice shook as he spoke. “Please, it is s…sorry, Please.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay.” Alica kept her voice calm and steady. “Hey, can you look at me?”

“Y…yes Ma’am.” He stuttered. “It’s s..sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not mad.” He sniffled again, a tremor racking his body. “I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen. If there is any part that you don’t like or want to do, then tell me, okay?”

“Yes m..ma’am.” He nervously rubbed his hands together.

“Good.” Alica said, then started the explanation. “First, I’m to clean you up, and I’ll get you a new gown so you can change out of the dirty one…”

“It is sorry it ruined the gown.” B127 interjected.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. Then, I’m going to change the sheets. Finally, I’m going to look at your bandages, and make sure that it’s still clean. None of this is going to hurt, and if you want me to stop, tell me, okay? I won’t be mad.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” B127 sounded like a broken record. “T..thank you.”

“No problem,” She said as she went to fetch the wipes. “I don’t mind.”

Taglist: @stabby-nunchucks @rainbows-and-whumperflies @wolfeyedwitch @pigeonwhumps

#whump #pet whump #medical whump #emeto cw #vomit mention #caretaker new master #caretaker #medic caretaker #nurse caretaker #hospital setting #conditioned whumpee #whump writing #the subject #b127oc #worlds writing #worlds babbles #alicaperryoc #fear of punishment

[i-eat-worlds]

The Subject Part 8

After the flashback of last week, this one is pretty sweet. CW: pet whump, medical whump (gentle wound cleaning), self dehumanization, hospital setting, character with stutter

B127 sat curled up on the bed, legs pulled in tight. The warm, porridge was still in his stomach, lling him much more than he could ever remember lled. The clean hospital gown was still soft against his skin. He had never experienced something like this before, and it was all too much. What would he have to do to deserve this? Liam, the nurse, had said that Dr. Brenner would visit him soon. So until the doctor came in, B127 lay curled up on the sheets, appreciating the food in his stomach, the gift of clothing, and the luxury of the bed. “Good Morning, B127.” B127 watched as Dr. Brenner entered the room. If his left arm, he carried a file. He sat down on the rolling stool by the side of the bed. “How are you?”

Right, he was allowed to talk. “V…very good, doctor. It is th…thankful for the luxuries.”

“You’re welcome.” Dr. Brenner gave a kind smile. “So, I’m going to talk about what going to happen, okay? I don’t want there to be any surprises.” B127 nodded. He finally got to know why he was getting these luxuries. “So I’m going to check you over again, then I’m going to ask you some questions. You understand?” The doctor pulled on a pair of bright blue gloves.

“Y…yes, doctor, It understands.” That didn’t sound so bad. Maybe Dr. Brenner would find a way to make it hurt. He was a subject, after all, he deserved to be in pain.

“Good.” B127 could feel the warmth growing through her at the word. “Is it okay if I pull down your gown?”

B127 didn’t understand why Dr. Brenner was asking. Maybe it was a test. “Yes, d…doctor. You can do wh…whatever you want with it. Its body does not b…belong to it.”

Dr. Brenner scooted closer. He slowly pulled B127’s gown down, revealing the bandage that covered the incision site. “Does it hurt or feel weird?” The doctor asked as he started to peel the tape away from his skin.

“A th…three, doctor,” B127 recalled the pain sensitivity training that he had gone through at the training center. The subjects experienced each step on the scale so they could accurately answer the researchers’ questions.

“Okay, I’ll put in an order to get you some pain medication.” Dr. Brenner said as he looked over the wound. “Your wound is healing nicely. I’m going to put some cream on it to prevent scarring, and then I’ll rebandage it.”

B127 braced for the pain that someone touching his wound would bring, but Dr. Brenner was surprisingly gentle as he rubbed the cream over the stitching and covered the wound with another fresh bandage. Another one! He’d been gifted three bandages in less than twenty-four hours. After that was done, the doctor had pulled his gown back up over his shoulder, tossed his gloves into the trash can, and started asking questions.

The first couple had been easy. Dr. Brenner had asked for his identication number, his height and weight (those numbers might have changed, but the doctor didn’t seem to care), blood type, and some questions about past experiments. These were all standard fare. But the next one wasn’t.

“Do you know where you are?”

The question made B127 nervous. He didn’t know he was supposed to care. All labs were the same anyway. He gave the best answer he could. “It’s s…serving humanity by advancing science for the g…greater good.” A nice trained response, that the doctor should have been happy to hear.

Instead, his eyebrows furrowed, and a look spread across his face. “Did nobody tell you?” B127 was confused. It was a subject. A useless rat. It didn’t need to know. “B127, you’re at a recovery center. You’re done-your five years are over.”

What was a recovery center? B127 remembered those words vaguely from training, but it felt like so long ago, and he didn’t know what they meant. Was he supposed to? What about those five years? What did that even mean? “It is s…sorry. It doesn’t understand, d…doctor.” B127 confessed, hoping that Dr. Brenner would just explain to him. “Okay, I’ll explain.” B127 nodded, tears brimming in his eyes. “This place isn’t going to be like any of the other labs you’ve been in. We are not going to hurt you. I am not going to hurt you, do you understand?”

“It will not be h…hurt, doctor?” B127 tilted his head to the side. Was Dr. Brenner serious?

He nodded. “You won’t be hurt. Also, you will always have food, clothing, and comfort, yeah?” Dr. Brenner shifted in his chair. “We won’t punish you. You can talk whenever you’d like, and you can ask for help at any time. You don’t ever have to go back to a lab, you aren’t being hurt again, not anymore”

B127 was blown away. He never had to be in a lab again? Was it really over? We’re all the privileges that Dr. Brenner had said he would get real? “Th…thank you, doctor. It th..thanks you for all the privileges you have g…granted it.”

“You’re welcome, B127.” Dr. Brenner's facial expression lightened a little bit. “Now the last thing we are going to do right now is get you a name.”

B127 dropped his jaw. “Th…thank you, doctor!” Did the doctor say he would get a name? Didn’t rats like him not deserve names? Maybe those were just lab rules. This place was different , right?

“So I’ve got a couple of names already prepared, but do you have one that you want to be called already?” Dr. Brenner pulled a piece of paper from the file as he talked.

“It likes wh…what you ch…choose, doctor.” B127 tried to keep himself contained. Doctors didn’t like when subjects showed emotion like this, but he was excited.

“Okay.” Dr. Brenner placed the piece of paper on the bed so B127 could also see it. On it was typed three words. Names, B127 realized. He didn’t remember how he knew what they said, nor where he learned it, but he remembered what they meant. The doctor pointed to each word in turn. “Archer, Beau, and Casey. Which one do you want?”

B127 looked at the squiggly black lines on the paper that he somehow understood. He thought the second one was funny. B-E-A-U did not look like it was pronounced “bow,” but he kind of liked it. He liked how it looked. He liked how it sounded. Slowly, B127 placed his nger on the name, claiming it has his. “Beau, doctor.” He said, his voice free of stutter for once.

“Okay, Beau,” Dr. Brenner smiled a little bit, “That’s what you get.”

Taglist: @stabby-nunchucks @rainbows-and-whumperflies @wolfeyedwitch @pigeonwhumps

#whump #pet whump #medical whump #dehumanisation tw #hospital setting #whump writing #worlds writing #worlds babbles #the subject #dr.brenneroc #b127oc #beauoc #he has a name now!

[i-eat-worlds]

Here we go:

This has been sitting lonely on a google doc for a year, and I’ve decided to scream it into the void. Please tell me if you find grammar mistakes or if I missed a trigger warning.

This story is set in a BBU-adjacent world where people can sign up to become test subjects for a period of 3-10 years. They surrender their rights to personhood and go to a “training facility” where they are conditioned into into perfect test subjects. When their time is up, they are transferred to a recovery center.

CW: lab whump, pet whump, vivisection, blood, female whumper, it pronouns used to dehumanize, passing out from pain, gagging and restraints, non-con nudity(non-sexual), non-con touch(non-sexual)

Like every morning, B127 was woken up by the sound of Dr. Glassener unlocking the door and clicking on the lights to the lab. Her shoes squished against the cold tie as she crossed the wide lab space, passing by the lab benches and the shiny dissection table on her way to B127’s small metal cage. Usually, her face bore a sickly sweet smile as she unlocked the door. Today, her expression was sour, borderline angry. B127 sang back further into its cell. It was going to be a bad day. “Out.” The doctor ordered. It obeyed, scrambling out of the cage as fast as it could and kneeling down the oor. Wordlessly, she clipped the end of the leash to its collar.

B127 tried not to feel the lump in its throat. Usually, Dr. Glassener was talkative and smiley, but on the rare occasion when she wasn’t, it meant one thing. Pain. And B127 had never seen her this angry before. It was scared, but it wouldn’t dare show it. That would mean more pain. Every whimper, cry, or movement would make everything hurt more. Only good subjects got medication and treatment after the tests were done, and with the mood that Dr. Glassener was in, it would definitely need that.

She dragged it to the metal dissection table in the center room. “Up.” She ordered and it complied, crawling up onto the table, then laying down as a good subject would. It tried not to hyperventilate as Dr. Glassener tied it down, securing it by the wrists and ankles to the table, then pulled a thick strap across its hips and a thinner one across its forehead. B127 never had minded the hip strap too much. It made it feel less naked, even though it knew that subjects didn’t deserve clothes-the fact that it was allowed its boxer shorts was a luxury. The doctor also tied his leash around a hook under the table, for extra security.

After Dr. Glassener had finished restraining her subject, she began to prepare all the tools she would need. The sound of metal instruments being laid out on a tray burned its ears, but it couldn’t see what they were. It would nd out soon enough. When the doctor walked back into B127’s view, she was pulling a pair of white latex gloves over her hands. A mask covered her face, and she had taken o her lab coat and replaced it with a sterile operating gown. She plucked the first instrument from the tray.

“I’m sorry for being so terse.” She said as she marked a curved line under its ribs with a marker. Her voice was back to its normal too-sweet tone. “At this morning’s staff meeting, I was told you were being transferred to another lab. Apparently, the company had deemed my research finished, and you were being sent o to some other laboratory.”

Another laboratory? The words set o a stream of questions inside it. Questions it wasn’t supposed to have, but it couldn’t help itself. Who would the new doctor be? Would they do dierent kinds of experiments? Would it hurt more or less than what Dr. Glassener did? The thousands of questions that it had were stopped by the doctor's tone turning dark.

“But I’m not done, not yet. I need to see the results in person. I was planning on giving you some more time, but the truck is picking you up tonight, so I have to do it now.” Her gloved hands felt around its ribs and abdomen. It still hurt, but it didn’t flinch. It was good like that. “I see you healed nicely from the last procedure.” A look of worry crossed her face. “Oh, my I almost forgot!” She exclaimed, then stued a gag into B127’s mouth. “I wouldn’t want you to wake the neighborhood!” Her eyes passed over everything one more time. “Okay, I think we can begin.”

The doctor slowly ran the scalpel down the pre-marked line making sure not to deviate from the stripe of her marker. She kept chattering away, and B127 wasn’t sure what was worse-the vivisection or her incessant talking. “You remember what we did last time?” She asked as she sunk her gloved hands into the incision and began to pull it apart. “Probably not, you were pretty out of it. Well..” B127 could feel her ngers wiggling inside of it, but it didn’t move. That would only make things worse. “I removed a portion of your stomach, then I injected the remaining tissue with a healing serum that I’ve been developing.” She places forceps to hold open the incision. “Now, the scans seem to conrm that the serum worked, but I just have to see for myself.” She plunged her hands into his abdominal cavity as she searched for its stomach. B127 vision starts to narrow with the pain. It wants to pass out, but that means no help afterward, so it tries to hold on to the last threads of consciousness. “Oh my goodness, it's beautiful!” The doctor cradles the organ in her hands.” You can’t even tell a portion was removed!” She gives it a little squeeze, and B127 can feel the bile rising.

“Uh-uh-uh.” She scolds. “No vomiting. We wouldn’t want you to choke.” She lifts her hands out of the cavity and grabs her special lab camera with a “blood-proof” case to take a photo. “I’m going to frame this and put it on my wall!” Her fingers push more flesh out of the way so she can get a clear shot.

B127 just wants it to stop. Which is stupid, because subjects don’t have wants. The sound of Dr. Glassener’s ramblings, combined with the squish of her gloved hands against its flayed-out organs, compounded by the searing pain is all too much. When the darkness comes this time, it can’t ght it. As the subject starts to slip into darkness, it answers its third question.

Nothing could be worse than this.

Taglist: @stabby-nunchucks

#whump #experiment whump #pet whump #lab whump #medical whump #pet whumpee #dehumanizing language #dehumanisation tw #blood #hospital setting #tw vivisection #gore #kinda #noncon touching #whump story #the subject #worlds babbles #worlds writing #Dr.Glasseneroc #B127oc

[i-eat-worlds]

The Subject Part 4

Here it is… Hope you enjoy :)

CW: Pet Whump, Medical Whump, Hospital Setting, fear of punishment, character with stutter, this one is pretty chill.

Rory Friedman Memorial Recovery Center Findings and Observations from Initial Examination of B127 Dr. Chase Brenner, MD, Ph.D.

My initial examination of B127 revealed evidence of long-term abuse while he was kept at Hemlock Labs. While his condition remains stable, and I’m optimistic about the chances of recovery, the abuse he received was substantial. B127 had several dissection scars that were built up in layers, suggesting that dissection and operation-like procedures were carried out repeatedly. His ribs appeared to be bruised and/or broken from repeated surgical trauma. He will need to receive scans to search for any internal injuries or malformations caused by their experiments.

About an inch down from the edge of his rib cage was an obviously infected cut about four inches long. Five stitches were placed in the wound, though they were pulled too tight, and several of them had ripped. Questions answered by the patient revealed that the apparent purpose of the incision was to access his stomach to “see if it had been healed properly.” I administered pain medication via an IV, and cleaned, restitched, and dressed the wound. We will need to monitor his GI tract closely for signs of disruption.

The patient appears to have undergone a more rigorous mental conditioning course than most. While the vocal cords were not severed, he did not talk until I prompted him to, and his voice was hoarse and scratchy. I’m worried he might start to develop a stutter. I believe that he hasn’t talked in at least a year, though longer is probably more likely. He didn’t wiggle, squirm, whimper, or cry while on the exam table, a common reaction from most patients. He was confused as to why he was being given pain medication when I was restitching his wound and stated that “It is trained not to feel pain. You don’t need to waste them on it.” Notably not referring to himself in the rst person. This leads me to believe that the surgical trauma B127 experienced was without anesthesia or any form of pain control at all. He is also malnourished and dehydrated and will need nutritional support in the coming months.

I think I will be able to introduce him to the rest of the ward in a day or so, though the presence of internal injuries might complicate the socialization process. We will need to enlist a physical therapist, to readjust him to walking, and we might need to consult a speech therapist if speaking diculties develop. However, I am optimistic about B127’s chances of success.

***************************

B127 had never been so comfortable before. After the strange doctor had examined him-with pain meds-which was weird enough on its own, but even weirder because Dr. Brenner had barely done anything. The doctor had just cleaned and bandaged-actually bandaged-his wound, then put him in a wheelchair and pushed him into another room. He had offered to crawl, like Dr. Glassener would have had him, but Dr. Brenner had insisted that he be in the chair. Dr. Brenner had wheeled him into a room called a bedroom. It was dark but warm, with a bed pushed up against the wall, surrounded by monitors. The floor was a warm wood, and several paintings of landscapes hung on the wall. The doctor then slowly scooped him up and set him gently on the bed. B127 had never felt something like it before, at least not that he remembered. The mattress was so soft it felt like he was laying on a cloud, and the sheets weren’t itchy or scratchy. Before he could stop himself, he was curled up in the warm blanket, face pressed against the smooth sheets. It was a heavenly sensation, so far away from the cold cage with a hard floor. Dr. Brenner didn’t seem surprised by B127’s reaction, letting him burrow in the covers for a moment before gently tapping on his shoulder. “Hey, B127?” He froze up in fear at the touch, straightening himself out to lie at, his muscles relaxing unnaturally. The doctor tried to hide the anger that ared inside him. The boy thought he was going to be hurt. Because he was comfortable. “It…It is s…sorry, Doctor.” He stuttered, fear shaking his body.

“Hey, look at me.” B127 eyes jarred upwarps. “I’m not going to hurt you, hon.” He held up a little button on the side of his bed. “This is called a call button, okay?” The subject nodded. “While you sleep, if something starts to hurt, if you are thirsty, or if you need anything, it will summon a nurse. Her name is Alica. She’s very nice, she won’t hurt you. Do you understand?”

“Y…yes, doctor,” B127 said, voice still a monotone.

“Hey, let’s get you back under the covers.” Dr. Brenner said as he slowly placed them down on top of the subject. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable. Try and get some sleep tonight, okay? And if anything starts to hurt, please use the call button. No one is going to hurt you, B127. You’re safe.”

B127 wished he could believe it.

Tag list (can you believe I have one of these?): @stabby-nunchucks

@rainbows-and-whumperflies @pigeonwhumps @suffering-and-misery

@wolfeyedwitch

#whump #pet whump #medical whump #medic caretaker #doctor caretaker #hospital setting #fear of punishment #caretaker #caretaker new master #stuttering #caretaker new whumper #whump writing #worlds babbles #dr.brenneroc #b127oc #the subject #conditioned whumpee #pet whumpee

[i-eat-worlds]

The Subject Part 3

B127 is confused by basic human decency. Hope you enjoy! If you find grammar or spelling mistakes, pls tell me.

CW: pet whump and medical whump, hospital settting, small needle mention, dehumanization, scars and injuries, caretaker new master, doctor caretaker, dubcon touch (non-sexual)

“I’m going to touch you now.” Dr. Brenner warned. “It’s not going to hurt, I’m just going to look.” B127’s eyes had adjusted to the light, and its brain had nally started working. If it wasn’t going to be restrained, the doctor would surely use pain meds for the dissection. That wouldn’t be too bad, B127 decided.

As the doctor studied it, it studied him. Dr. Brenner looked almost like the exact opposite of Dr. Glassener. Where she had been thin and lithe, he was tall and muscular, his scrubs were deep red compared to her pale blue. The most striking difference was in their faces. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, his eyes almost mournful, miles away from Dr. Glassener’s too-sweet smile and the poisonous glint in her eyes. For some reason it didn’t understand, it found itself trusting the doctor as he surveyed the subject's number of wounds.

Dr. Brenner’s eyes widened in horror at the state of B127. Scars ran across its body, each telling a painful story. Several ran from under its breastbone to its belly button, more from hip-bone to hip-bone. Thick bruising covered the sides of its ribs. All of it must have hurt, but the thing that worried the doctor the most was the angry, festering wound on the subject’s left side, tucked right under its rib cage. It looked frighteningly recent like it hadn’t even been a full day since the injury. Taking out his penlight, Dr. Brenner took a closer look at the wound. It was half-stitched, poorly done, some had torn, while the others were in too deep to be of any help. That would be priority number one after the examination was complete.

B127 watched warily as the doctor moved on from its torso and abdomen to its head. The look on his face was not good, the sorrow in his eyes was replaced by anger. Maybe he would pull his teeth. That would make sense. “I’m going to look inside your mouth now. It might be a bit uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt.” Dr. Brenner, still holding the penlight, picked up a tongue depressor. Instead of shoving the stick into its mouth, he waited until B127 compliantly opened it.

The stick pressed against its tongue as the doctor shined his light in. His facial expression improved. “That’s good.” He said as he removed the stick from its mouth. “Your vocal cords haven’t been severed.” It was a common thing with subjects he had seen from Hemlock Labs, but this one appeared to have been spared. “Can you say something for me?’

B127 paled. Was it being asked to talk? “Yes, doctor, it can talk.” Its voice was hoarse and raspy from not being used for so long, barely audible.

“That’s good.” Dr. Brenner smiled softly as B127 nodded. “You can speak freely here, okay? If something hurts, I want you to tell me. If something I do scares you or makes you uncomfortable, I need you to tell me, yeah?”

“Yes, doctor,” B127 said again, still getting used to speaking.

“I need to ask you some questions, okay?” Dr. Brenner said as he grabbed something else from the instrument table. “There aren’t any wrong answers, and it’s okay if you don't know. You understand?”

“It understands, doctor.” B127’s voice was starting to lose its hoarseness, but it was still so quiet. The pit in Dr. Brenner’s stomach was deepened by B127’s perfect, trained responses as he redirected his attention back to the nasty wound on its left side.

First things first, pain meds. B127 had suffered long enough, and Dr. Brenner would be damned if he caused any more pain. “Do you remember when you got this?” He said as he got ready to start an IV. “This might sting a little.”

“It got it this morning, doctor.” It inched as he pushed the needle into the crook of its elbow. “Dr. Glassener wanted to see the results for herself, doctor” Its tone sounded pleasant on the surface, but it hid notes of fear and worry.

“Do you know what she was looking for, exactly?” Dr. Brenner tried to keep the anger from showing on his face. B127 would assume that it was directed at him when it wasn’t, and he was already terried. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

“Dr. Glassener wanted to make sure its stomach had healed properly, doctor,” B127 stated plainly as if it was talking about the weather. It wouldn’t know about the weather though, it hadn’t properly been outside in years Dr. Brenner silently cursed everyone at Hemlock labs. Judging by the poor attempt at wound closing, this “Dr. Glassener” wasn’t a real doctor. The fact that she had been permitted to muck around inside B127 whenever and however she fancied was very concerning. Who knew the internal injuries that the poor thing could have? He would need to get them scanned in the morning. “Hey, can you tell me if you can feel this? Does it hurt?” He gently poked the area around the wound.

“No, doctor.” B127 was confused. Why would Dr. Brenner care if it hurts? It’s supposed to be in pain, that’s how it knows it’s being good.

“If it starts to hurt again, tell me, okay? I’ll get you some more painkillers.” Dr. Brenner said as he picked up a shiny metal instrument from the tray. “I’m going to have to remove the old stitches, clean it out, then put new ones in. It shouldn’t take too long. Any questions, buddy?”

“Uhhh-Ummm.” B127 stuttered. If Dr. Brenner wanted it to ask questions, it should ask a question. “Why…why are you giving it painkillers? It was trained not to feel pain. You don’t need to waste them on it.”

Dr. Brenner cursed again in his mind. Even with the screwed-up laws of the Subject system, they required that subjects receive pain medication. “I don’t want you to be in pain, okay? You don’t deserve to be hurt.” B127 just gave him a quizzical lock and shook it’s-no, his-head.

If Dr. Brenner's heart wasn’t already in a million pieces, it would’ve shattered.

Taglist: @stabby-nunchucks @rainbows-and-whumperflies

#pet whump #whump #medical whump #hospital setting #doctor caretaker #needle mention #pet whumpee #caretaker new master #caretaker #dehumanizing language #dehumanisation tw #whump writing #trauma recovery whump #worlds babbles #B127oc #Dr.brenneroc #worlds writing #the subject

[i-eat-worlds]

The Subject 7

sorry for being late! Enjoy a really screwed up flashback. CW: Pet whump, medical whump, lab whump, emeto, forced consumption of bodily waste (vomit), verbal abuse (referring to human as a rat), suffocation, it pronouns used to dehumanize, intentional wound infection, hospital setting, non-con touch (ns), non-con nudity (ns), dead dove do not eat

B127 had been strapped to the table for what seemed like days, leash wrapped around the hook, though she hadn’t made him wear the gag in a while, when Dr. Glassener had returned. She had recovered from the previous weeks marathon research session. Her hair was no longer piled into a messy ponytail, it was once again held in a slicked back bun. Her old, wrinkled scrubs had been replaced by new crisp ones, and she wore a freshly laundered white coat, her initials embroidered above the pocket. Most importantly, however, the dangerous glint had returned to her eyes oncemore. B127 knew this glint all too well, and it also was aware of what it meant. Dr. Glassener had an idea.

“Good morning, B127'' Dr. Glassener chirped as she opened one of the cabinets and started rifling through it. “I had the most wonderful idea over the weekend. It took me a moment to secure some of the more exotic materials that I would need, but I did!”

B127 watched as she organized everything on the tray. There were just four instruments on the table this time-a scalpel and three sort of spoon-looking things that he had never seen before, as well as a couple of antiseptic wipes. It was very dierent from the rst time it had been strapped to the table, when Dr. Glassener had used almost every tool she owned, and spent the better part of a morning poking, prodding, and examining it. An excited grin spread across the doctor's face as she took something out of the microwave-like device that she called an incubator. She set three Petri dishes down on the tray. “Here are my new friends!” She pointed at each dish in turn. “This is Enterococci, this is Pseudomonas Aeruginosa, and my favorite, Streptococcus pyogenes!” The doctor continued her lecture as she pulled on her gloves, “We’re going to be looking into wound infections, isn’t that cool?” She ripped open an alcohol wipe.

The pungent smell of alcohol filled its nostrils as Dr. Glassener cleaned its thighs, the wipe cold against its skin. It was made of something soft, the softest thing that it had felt in a long time. However, the sensation was gone too soon, and all that was left was the alcohol as it slowly evaporated, taking any of the warmth it had left with it. Once his thigh was clean, Dr. Glassener picked up the scalpel, her gloved fingers delicately perched on the handle. The doctor rarely warned before she cut, and B127 braced itself as the knife pressed into its skin.

Dr. Glassener made three cuts on B127’s leg. They weren’t even particularly deep-the knife stopped before its muscle, only slicing through what little fat that was left. Blood pooled in the wound, threatening to send scarlet drops rolling down its thigh. It certainly wasn’t pleasant, but compared to the other things that Dr. Glassener had done, this was minor. “Okay, cuts have been made! Now it’s time for you to meet our friends.”

Dr. Glassener lifted the lid off the first petri dish and plucked one of the spoons from the tray. The jelly made a swishing noise as the doctor wielded the spoon, scoping a sliver of the jelly. She pried one of the wounds on B127’s thigh open with two fingers then jammed the spoon in, depositing the jelly inside the wound. When that was done dropped the spoon in the trash can, then she repeated the process again two more times, her hands moving swiftly.

The cold jelly burned inside of B127 like an ice cube on bare skin. It was a sickly feeling, and it wanted to claw the little slices of jelly out of its wound. Dr. Glassener started to peel her gloves o. “You know the rules-no moving, not even a little bit-I don’t want to disturb the test sites.” She pressed her sweaty, latex-smelling hand to its face, stroking its cheek. “No crying or whimpering or puking, but you know that. You’re a good, pliant little pet.” She scratched behind his ear a little bit, then went o to her desk to complete some of the paperwork that she often complained about, keeping B127 in sight.

About an hour later, things started to take a turn for the worse. The warmth that Dr. Glassener’s praise had given it had gone, and it was replaced by pain. Fire poured from the cuts into his veins, spreading throughout his body. With them, they carried waves of nausea and misery.

******

Everything about it was scorching drops of sweat dripping down its face, neck, and back. Its stomach churned, threatening to send the half-decent meal that it had been fed back up. B127 pleaded with its body to stop, to calm down, but it was too late. The vomit came pouring out and B127 belched all over itself.

Dr. Glassener’s head snapped up at the noise, and the look on her face turned instantly displeased. “Useless rat!” She yelled as she angrily rose from her chair, grabbing a pair of gloves and throwing them on as quickly as she could, then running over to the table where B127 was strapped down. “Stop vomiting!”

Try as it might, it couldn’t stop. There wasn’t even any food left, it was just bile, and as much as B127 tried to swallow it down, it just wouldn’t. It watched in fear as Dr. Glassener fervently unblocked the strap that held its shoulders down to the table “I said stop!” Picking it up by the neck, she slammed its head into the table. “Stop vomiting, rat!” Its head hit the table again. “Fine!” She clamped her gloved hands over B127's mouth and nose, suocating it. “As long as you keep vomiting, you don’t get to breathe! You don’t get to unless I say you get to!”

Fear filled B127’s eyes as it finally gained enough control to swallow the rest of the vomit back down. Every time it tried to take a breath, it sucked in an impenetrable wall of latex. After what seemed like a small eternity, Dr. Glassener let go. It pulled as much air into its lungs as it could, seeking any oxygen it could get. The relief was dampened by the doctor’s hand slapping him across the face. “You’re a stupid, messy little thing. And you know what stupid messy little things have to do?” She shoved its face to the side, forcing it into the vomit. “It has to clean up its mess. C’mon rat, clean it up. Eat it up. It's yours, after all.” She watched as B127 helplessly tried to swallow the foul-smelling, even fouler tasting liquid.

“You deserve this, you worthless rat.”

“You. Deserve. This.”

Taglist: @stabby-nunchucks @rainbows-and-whumperflies @pigeonwhumps @wolfeyedwitch

#pet whump #medical whump #lab whump #emeto cw #hospital setting #suffocation #dehumanisation tw #dead dove do not eat #abuse #violence #whump #whump story #whump writing #the subject #dr.glasseneroc #b127oc

[i-eat-worlds]

The Subject Part II

Things get a little bit better for B-127. Please tell me if you find any spelling or grammar mistakes.

CW: Pet Whump, Medical Whump, Restraints, Caretaker New Master, overheating, blink and you’ll miss it suicide ideation (this one is pretty chill)

The subject was jostled awake by the bouncing of the truck as it hit a pothole. It thunked against the walls of its crate as the truck drove along the rough road to the new facility. The back of the truck was pitch black, the air hot and humid. B127 ran its finger along the tight stitches in its chest. It could feel them tugging on its skin, preventing it from taking a whole breath.

The truck banked around a turn, sending the subject careening into the back of its crate and knocking the wind out of it. B127 struggled to breathe as it tried to get its bearings. The disorientation finally ended when the truck came to an abrupt halt, and B127 was thrown back to the back of the cage before being left on the floor in a painful, exhausted heap.

There was a beat of silence before the engine was cut, then the thump of metal against metal as the back of the truck was unlocked. Bright, too bright light flooded into the back of the truck as a man in work overalls walked in, blocking any view that the subject might have of the outside. A thick, dark blanket was thrown over its cage before it was wheeled out of the truck.

The cart came to a stop at the bottom of a ramp. It could hear two men talking near it. “Once you sign for it, we’ll be all good to go.”

********************************** “Dr. Brenner?” His assistant popped her head through the door to his oce. “Mr. Nesbit has a delivery for you.”

The doctor frowned. “That’s odd. Haven’t ordered any supplies recently.” He started to get up from his seat. “I'll talk to him. Thank you, Delilah.”

His brow furrowed as he headed towards the loading dock. With any other facility manager, it would have been nothing, just a labeling mistake, but Nesbit never bothered him for something trivial. The facility manager had always been very clear about that. “The work you do is important.” He would say. “I won’t distract you unless what I need is importanter.”

The door opened with a beep as Dr. Brenner swiped his card. The facility manager stood next to a blue cart. A thick, black blanket was draped over a box-like object on the cart. Brenner didn’t have to ask to know what it was. “Seriously, Logan.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve already got three.”

“The powers that be decided that you could take another one, Chase,” Nesbit said. His voice dropped real low. “They’re from Hemlock. I couldn’t turn them away.” The blood drained from Brenner’s face. Hemlock Lab’s reputation was terrible when it came to how they treated their subjects. He knew that rsthand. Every single one that had come his way had been absolutely brutalized, and he knew that this one would be no dierent. “You do great work…”

“I know.” Dr. Brenner said as he stepped behind the cart. “I’ll do it.”

********************************

B127 curls up tightly as the new man-Dr. Brenner, it thinks it overheard-pushes him over the threshold of the lab, trying to ignore the pit in its stomach. The new lab was going to be like all the others; the antiseptic smell boring into its nostrils, the chill from the high-powered ventilation systems, and the blinding lights that were amplied by the sterile white color of everything. Dr. Brenner would be worse than Dr. Glassener had been, and it was going to die.

It almost didn’t mind the thought.

“B127…” Dr. Brenner lightly tapped on the cage. “B127?” Was the doctor talking to it? When Dr. Glassener talked at it, that always meant it was going to be hurt. Usually, new doctors gave it a day to adjust, but maybe Dr. Brenner worked dierently. It didn’t really matter, in the end. It was going to be hurt anyway, did it make a dierence when? “Hey, I’m going to take of the blanket now.” B127 quickly adjusted themselves into the cramped kneeling position that they had been taught. At least the doctor had given it a warning, though. “It’s going to be bright. I’m sorry.” With that final apology, the blanket was pulled of the cage. Bright light assaulted it from every direction as Dr. Brenner unlocked the cage. It helped that the proper position for cages meant that its forehead was touching the floor, so it helped block some of the blinding light out. Patiently, it waited for the doctor to bind its outstretched hands or grab it roughly by its collar. Much to B127’s surprise, the doctor did neither of these things. Instead, he slowly reached his arms into the cage and gently scooped the subject up. It tried not to tremble as Dr. Brenner carried it into a smaller room o the large, ovular one where it had been unpackaged. This one was rectangular, with all sorts of monitors and screens on the walls, and a table in the middle. The table wasn’t like the cold metal one that Dr. Glassener had thought, it was more like the one it had gotten to lay on when it had been operated on in a real operating room. “I’m going to set you down now, okay?” Dr. Brenner gently laid B127 onto the table, then turned around to a cabinet that was mounted on the wall. B127’s heartbeat sped up.

Why was it not restrained? Surely Dr. Brenner wouldn’t forget such an important thing. Maybe that’s what the doctor was getting from the cabinet. It would be unthinkable to leave it unsecured, after all. But, when Dr. Brenner turned back around, he only had a stethoscope hung around his neck. He moved to the other corner of the room to retrieve the rolling table with instruments, pushing it to the side of the table. It tried not to inch away from the doctor. It should have known. Dr. Brenner was going to do an exploratory dissection, of course. The procedure was common practice in many laboratories, so why not here. The subject swallowed hard as the doctor pulled on a pair of gloves. If it was allowed to speak, it would’ve begged.

Tag list: @stabby-nunchucks

#pet whump #medical whump #whump rescue #restrained #collar #tw sui ideation #medic caretaker #pet whumpee #test subject #B127oc #Dr.Brenneroc #hospital setting #caretaker new master #dehumanisation tw #worlds babbles #worlds writing #the subject #conditioned whumpee

[i-eat-worlds]

The Subject Part 6

B127 eats breakfast

CW: Pet whump, food, past starvation, hospital setting, seeing food as a luxury, mentions of vomit, fear of punishment

B127 didn’t know what it had expected from Alica, but it certainly wasn’t what she had given him. He had been such a bad subject, vomiting so much, freaking out like he had emotions. Dr. Glassener, and all the others before him would have punished accordingly-no food or pain medicine, and he would have to clean up the mess, including the blood from the whipping he would surely get. He had at least expected to lose the privilege of getting to wear clothes, and have to sleep on the oor. He had made such a mess, why would they waste clothing and bedding on him if he couldn’t even take care of it. He was undeserving.

But that’s not what happened. Not even close. The nurse had cleaned him off-not with a hose or by dumping a bucket of water over his head, but gently with wipes, making sure she got all the vomit o of him. She had given him a new gown, even though he had oered to wear the dirty one and not waste materials, she had insisted. Even more unnecessarily, she had changed the sheets, and let him keep sleeping in the bed! The nurse hadn’t even yelled at him, or just slapped him for discipline. Maybe the doctor would do it in the morning.

The strange nurse had given him more bandages. He had tried to tell her that he really needed only one set-he could make them last, he’d done it before, but she said that she had to, or the wound might get “infected.” When he asked what that meant, she described him the oozing puss and the red ring, and he was even more confused. Didn’t that happen to all cuts eventually?

Before she left, she had helped him into bed and gotten him a drink of water-what a luxury indeed. It was so strange, staying with such generous people. B127 hoped he got to stay. These people seemed very nice, giving him such wonderful things. The only thing that worried him was what he would have to do to earn them. After all, he was a subject, he deserved to be in pain.

***********

B127 awoke the next morning. He was almost surprised to wake up in the same bed, in a fresh gown, still in the room. It felt like it should have been a dream, like the ones he had during the beginning, before he wasn’t allowed to. The ache had returned to his side, duller and less prominent, but still there. B127 assumed that he wouldn’t get a meal because of what had happened overnight-after all, only good subjects get to eat, and he had disobeyed every rule, but apparently, things worked differently here.

Liam had introduced himself, then given B127 the food. The subject had thanked him profusely-how forgiving the people here were. What was strange though was how it was presented-a bowl of something strange-tan, with little pieces of grain oating in some brown substance. It smelled sweat, a mixture of scents that he seemed to recognize, but couldn’t remember ever smelling before. The meal was a far cry from what he had eaten before-kibble was what Dr. Glassener had called it, but sometimes, if he was really good, she would give him little crackers. Even stranger, was the plastic implement next to the bowl. It had a long handle, and a wide rounded end that curved down.

“This is called oatmeal.” Liam explained, pointing at the bowl. “We’re going to start with something easy on your stomach, we don’t want to stress it out too much.” The nurse pointed to the plastic thing. “This is a spoon. It will help you eat. If you don’t know what it is, that’s okay. I’m going to help.”

How nice of them, giving him the chance to eat again, despite his misbehavior. Usually, if he was being bad, they put a tube in his nose and made him eat, but that would only happen if it was important to an experiment if he had food. The thing called a spoon was weird. B127 had never seen one of those before. It looked like some sort of weapon, or one of the tools that the doctors would use. B127 knew that he wasn’t allowed to touch those-they must be testing him-to make sure that he wouldn’t disobey. “Thank you for f…feeding it.” He asked, “M…may it eat?”

Liam nodded, “You can eat.”

“Th…thank you.” B127 said. He slowly wrapped his fingers around the bowl, bringing it up to his lips. He didn’t dare touch the spoon-that was an easy test. The warm oatmeal filled him, the sweet smell filling his nostrils. It was amazing-the best food he’d had in such a long time. B127 was careful not to spill any. He didn’t want to make any more messes, especially after what he had done last night. After he had finished eating, Liam took the tray. The nurse had explained that Dr. Brenner would be in later, and reminded him that if he needed help, or if the pain got worse, to use the call button. It was so strange, the way everybody acted. Everyone was so nice, and he hadn’t been punished for anything. B127 couldn’t help but wonder what all this would mean when Dr. Brenner came back. He was a subject, afterall, any luxury or comfort he would have to earn.

Taglist: @stabby-nunchucks @rainbows-and-whumperflies @wolfeyedwitch @pigeonwhumps

#whump #pet whump #medical whump #caretaker #conditioned whumpee #hospital setting #tw food #tw disordered eating #whump writing #worlds writing #worlds babbles #the subject #dr.brenneroc #b127oc

[i-eat-worlds]

🥀 lavender haze : tell us about your oc’s relationships (romantic/platonic/etc).

Thank you, Anon!

B127: obviously he’s been very isolated. He thinks of Dr. Glassener as his master, and Dr. Brenner he isn’t really sure what to do with. I’m thinking about giving him a friend who is another subject in recovery latter down the line tho.

Dr. Glassener: I don’t see this woman as capable of love, or of genuinely caring for somebody else other than herself. She’s not hurting B127 just for science, she’s doing it for fun. Her colleagues probably keep a pretty far distance, and she tends to ignore other people why try to interact with her

Dr. Brenner:He has a boyfriend, in my mind. He gets along pretty well with the other staff, they go out for dinner occasionally. I also imagine amazing barbecues.

#ask stuff #the subject #Dr.glasseneroc #b127oc #Dr.Brenneroc #Worlds babbles