DumbB Writes Whump!

👜 - Handbag

👻 - Ghost

- Maid who's disguising herself as a squire is discovered and put in a pillory as punishment.

- Elfish woman who's captured by a corrupt ruler and forced to act as her Royal Advisor.

- Poor village woman betrothed to a wealthy merchant runs away and stows away on a ship that she has no idea where it's going.

- Farm girl collapses from exhaustion after working the field all day for her sick parents.

- Noblewoman escaping a controlling/ abusive spouse who hides on a farm, having to learn how to keep to with all the chores.

- Orc woman who's captured and forced to act as a "sparring partner" for a contingent of knights.

- Halfling rogue gets caught robbing a wealthy landowners estate.

- Cursed woman who's driven from her village by an angry mob.

- Woman cursed to turn into an animal during the day being tracked by hunters, arrows whizzing past her as she begs the sun to set faster.

Non-con under the cut!

"Whumper this is ridiculous. Why are they here."

"Because they look so darling all dressed up with their scars all displayed!"

"It's just a little unorthodox. At the lunch meeting."

Quick thought…

Whumpee who comes to rely on the drugs. Who once had hated their autonomy stripped from them by the chemicals, hated that their limbs betrayed them, their desire to run ignored. They hated how their brain slowed, and their thoughts turned useless and brittle. But then it became all they had. That dulling of the endless misery of being Whumper’s possession - regardless of what whumper did to them, isolation, humiliation, torture - had become their life raft. They floated over the ache.

But Whumper knows this. And they think, maybe it’s time for a little rehab. So without the drug…

Everything is intense, in the most terrifying way. Every touch, every sound a thousand needles. It makes their skin crawl. It’s like a film has been ripped off. Their skin had been flayed to reveal their nerves. The dust that had settled on their brain has been wiped clean.

Not to mention the symptoms of withdrawal. The fevers, the nightmares, the shaking. Whumpee turns to pleading. They cry so sweetly now, give in so easily. Everything they say, every time they plead and mourn their predicament… it’s all so sincere, so tantalizingly lucid.

It was fun, those times when Whumper had a rag doll to play with. The exhausted whines and garbled threats leaking out from Whumpee’s slow-moving lips were entertaining. The fuzziness in their eyes so charming.