BunnyFanatic🐇

Piece is heavily inspired by @spookyboywhump , as well as involving several of his lovely characters (Lyle, Angelo, and Camilla) along with two of my own :] 

TW: Pet Whump, Multiple Whumpees/Whumpers, Dehumanization, Intimate Whumper, Compliant Whumpee, Blind Whumpee, Mentions of past whumps, Brief Bullying, Noncon touches (intimate, but nothing further), Brief mention of past noncon (not explicitly said), Nothing graphic/Little of actual whumps, Shipping fuel because of I love these idiots 

(Note: I am a writer (or like to believe I am) BUT this is my first time writing specifically for the Whump community and writing someone else’s OCs. Spooky’s characters might be written slightly off with minor mischaracterization, but I hope you still enjoy<3) 

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3rd-Person Limited (Written In Blind Whumpee’s Perspective)

It was another day of music blaring into their eardrums.

It's so loud.

Another day of being surrounded by conversations that may or may not concern them.

They’re talking as if I can't understand them...

Another day of bustling footsteps wandering around them, but they did not dare look up to meet those piercing eyes that they felt everywhere.

Not like they could anyway.

Please just take me home...

Parties like these always made their head hurt. Unfortunately, their master enjoyed going to these parties every other week.

Not because he took pleasure in flaunting his power, though that was part of it, but because he adored showing them off like the showpet and lapdog they were.

It was exhausting; having to not only sing and dance every week on stage with a bunch of pets and masters looking up at them for entertainment, but also to come to these parties to be paraded, touched like a piece of art, and given... far too much attention.

That also didn't count for the behind the scenes where they are constantly practicing and utterly terrified to do anything wrong on stage.

Everyone, particularly pets, often stated that they had it 'easy'.

“Your master's forgiving,”  Others would say,

“You barely have any scars or bruises because your master can't afford for you not to look perfect during your shows,”

“Why are you complaining? You're practically unharmed! You should be grateful you don't have a master like us or else you would never survive.”

Master himself spoke fondly about how well he treated them, and that it was luxury compared to the horrors other pets had to go through.

And, shamefully enough,

They were grateful after hearing all those experiences.

Their master did not beat them until they could not move. It was more so slaps, shocks from their collar, left in a cage for hours, and hair pulling. Isolation, some whipping, and waterboarding at the worst.

Their master complimented them and ensured they were comfortable, or as comfortable as they could be in a situation like this. He would even tend to them tenderly after the punishments. Always.

Their master kept them well dressed and clean, fed them within their appropriate diet, brought gifts for good behavior or when they were feeling down, and so on.

However, as always, everything came at a price.

That is why they constantly practiced to be utterly perfect for the stage.

They learned quickly that their master expected them to be polite, pliant, and obedient, even when it came to keeping his bed warm under the sheets every night…  

In fact, Master regularly mentioned that they were lucky and should be grateful to have something as privileged as his bed since pets weren’t allowed on furniture...

If they did not show appreciation like their master wanted them to?

Well,

Make-up can normally cover the imprinted scars and bruises on their body with enough precision...

To the point where others can barely make it out unless they squint enough.

They still remembered the first week, right as they turned 16, when they were terrified at what was going on as they were grabbed and taken from home by their 'therapist'.

They screamed and cried while their grandparents did not make a sound.

Not a single one despite them being home. At least, as far as they could recall.

Their 'therapist' stated that they were better off without their grandparents, and that this new life would be a fresh start for the both of them.

Shortly after that, they were brought here.

A place where those with power took humans and made them into pets for whatever they wanted.

They learned that their 'therapist' had always been in this organization and already had a few pets of his own.

But none like them.

“You're special, Reagan,” He spoke fondly.

They did not see it that way.

They had kicked, screamed, pleaded, anything to make him return them home.

They were not a fighter by any means, but they were desperate.

It obviously didn’t work.

Instead, they were isolated and deprived of their senses as punishment for being unappreciative.

They were left on their own for what felt like an eternity.

It was an experience that they were terrified to undergo again.

They were not sure how long truly, but their master claims it was only a week.

They certainly did not think so. They dare not argue regardless.

Alternatively, they learned their lesson and became compliant to mostly avoid both punishment and pain.

Following the next month since they were allowed out for however long, they understood their role as a showpet and how to please him.

It was not so hard to do the latter, as their master was disturbingly obsessive and possessive of them in various ways. Since the very beginning of when they met as merely a patient and their 'therapist'.

Again, punishments were not often thanks to that, yet expectations and perfection were still high along with constant manipulation and gaslighting. Their pain, both physically and mentally, remained the same regardless of what others thought.

That did not make their suffering any less than others, right?

They weren't so sure themselves...

Reagan snapped out of their thoughts once they heard the familiar sound of their master snapping his fingers to get his attention. They instantly sat straight and proper in their kneeling form. 

"Aww, did my puppy get lost in its thoughts again?" 

They could feel their master's warm breath hit their right cheek as he crouched next to them. Their fingers twitched and curled slowly over their thighs,

"...M'sorry, Master-"

An amused, piercing laugh cut them off as they flinched.  

"Oh no, Angel! You don't have to apologize! After all, what else are you supposed to do when you can't see everything around you."

Master cooed as he slowly traced patterns over their neck and hip,

"But it's okay! That's why Master is here to take good care of you forever!"

Forever.

Reagan's stomach tightened at that.

"...Th-Thank you, Master..."

They could feel Master's breath hitch at the 'thanks' before he beamed happily into their ear,

"You're so welcome, my precious lovebug~ As a reward for your politeness, Master will sneak a few extra treats for you from the catering table once everyone settles down to eat. It'd be far more delicious than the bland and mushy food they always give to you puppies." 

They softly hummed and gave a soft nod to show another form of gratitude. 

It was true that these parties typically fed them... not so good food. Truly, the food was barely a step up from regular dog food other than being edible to humans. It was completely flavorless, the texture was awful, and they were given in actual dog bowls on the floor rather than plates with silverware. 

They listened to Master's footsteps shift beside them as his hands fell away from sensually tracing their body, and where he reached their thighs, before finally standing back up. 

They could feel their master's gaze lingering on them for a moment too long, before a chuckle slipped past his lips.

"Now, my sweet puppy, Master is going to go talk to some friends over there to the farthest wall on your left. Be good for me and stay right here, alright? I'll be back in a few minutes~"

Without waiting for confirmation from them, since their master already knew they were going to do as told perfectly, planted a loving kiss on their temple before his footsteps faded away amongst the various noises and voices of the other masters and pets surrounding them. 

Reagan remained where they were left, on their knees, and internally trying to drown out the sounds around them. They were glad that Master decided to give them a break from all of the attention, from himself and others, but they did not like being left alone. Despite their head looking down at the ground, they could still feel quite a few stares around them. 

The gazes were not subtle.

"Oi! You're Charlie's bitch, aren't ya?" 

Reagan jerked sharply, startled, when they heard an unknown, feminine voice speak directly in front of them. Instinctively, they shrunk and cowered, trying not to appear like they were wanting a fight. Not like it made a difference since they clearly were not a fighting dog.

"I-I...um...y-yes..?" They stammered nervously, unsure what else they were supposed to say. 

"Of course you are. You're basically untouched compared to everyone else. How does it feel to live such a good life while the rest of us are tormented?"

Reagan winced at those snarled out words. They could practically hear the saltiness and jealousy in the woman’s voice. They wanted to say that they did not ask for themselves to be treated 'greater' as everyone else, but that mattered much less in this situation. It was always their masters who chose what to do with their pets, and the pets just had to take it. 

They couldn’t do much but listen while they were hit with insults and belittled for having 'better' care. It was not uncommon for them to hear this, but it still hurt. However, they understood. It was only natural for the rest of the dogs to envy another who did not *look* hurt. Internally, well, that might as well be invisible to the naked eye.

It wasn’t until they felt a hand tightly grab on their arm, nails digging into their skin, that they snapped out of their brief daze. Panic instantly began to settle in as their breath hitched shakily at the touch. 

"Are you even listening?!-"

A sharp snarl interrupted the other before another voice spoke, “HEY! Back off!” 

The warning made Reagan flinch harshly, pressing back against the wall, while the unnamed woman recoiled and released their arm. 

They only knew she was gone once they heard the rapid pattering of her footsteps fading from their ears, just as a different pair of footsteps approached. 

“You okay? I noticed how uncomfortable you looked when she grabbed you.”

Reagan didn’t realize their lips were parted in surprise before they closed them to swallow a forming lump in their throat. It shocked them that the latter, who sounded like a male around their age or a little younger, was showing something close to concern for them. 

Did the other not… believe that they were treated ‘better’ in comparison to the other pets?

Or maybe the other simply didn’t know about that ordeal yet…

They cleared their throat before shakily nodding their head, “Y-Yes, thank you…” 

A pause.

“Good. Just wanted to make sure. You clearly don’t seem like the fighter type.”

The male’s words would’ve stung if Reagan didn’t completely agree with him. They merely wanted to get through their days of this hell without confrontation, let alone receiving a black eye or something along those lines.

They shortly perked up once they noticed the other’s footsteps starting to fade away already.

“W-Wait!”

The footsteps stopped immediately. 

They continued, “Pl-Please stay… a-at least until my master comes back…”

Another pause.

This time longer.

It felt so long that Reagan began to think that he left without another word, until a weight dropped directly beside them on their right. 

They jerked their head towards that direction with a startled noise.

“Woah! Relax. You literally watched me come back.”

Reagan scratched the back of their head nervously, unsure on how to break it to the other that they did not, in fact, watch them come back, “W-Well, I-”

“Actually, you might not have. You should really get those bangs out of your face. No wonder the other dogs are picking on you.”

“W-Wha-” Reagan was completely caught off guard at the quick pace of things, and even more once they felt fingers lightly brush their amber bangs away from their eyes. 

Although if it was only for a few seconds, they were sure the latter saw their wide, cloudy eyes blindly staring back at him. 

They felt the latter jerk his hand away, but before they could stammer out a plea for him not to leave, they heard the other whisper, 

“Are those really your eyes?”

That.. was a strange question. Had he never seen a blind person’s eyes? He didn’t sound disgusted or pitiful either.

On the contrary, he spoke as if he was in awe and curious.

After a beat of hesitation, they shakily nodded their head. “Mhm, I’m… blind…” They weren’t sure why they felt the need to insist that fact. Maybe they didn’t want the latter to think that they were wearing contacts and faking?

“Blind? Like, you can’t see anything?”

Reagan grew confused by the questioning tone, surprised that someone around his age was unsure about exactly what blindness was. 

“Um… Yeah, you c-could say it like that..” They whispered, almost curious themselves now, “I-If you close your eyes for a whole day w-while doing your normal routine, th-that’s basically what I ‘see’ ev-everyday.” 

It wasn’t true, and Reagan knew that. It was just the best way they could describe blindness to someone who could, well, actually see. After all, they hardly remembered what colors looked like and what word belonged to each one. 

They didn’t hear the other speak for a moment, only knowing he was still there due to his breathing. They slowly raised a brow-

…

Did he really close his eyes?

“All you see is this? Pitch black? Not even a little light?”

Yes he did.

Reagan nervously adjusted their reddish, brunette bangs to cover their eyes again. They were coming to the realization that the other seemed genuinely curious about their blindness, not even aware that they were blind from the first look of their cloudy eyes. 

It was almost… refreshing?

Now that they thought further about it, this other male didn’t seem to be miserable about his place as a pet. He spoke as if this was a normal exchange between two dogs rather than people forced to play the role.

“W-What’s your name?”

The question slipped out before they acknowledged it, but the latter didn’t mind apparently because he quickly forgot his previous questions and answered theirs instead.

“My name’s Lyle. You are…?”

Lyle?

Reagan swore they had heard that name before from their Master, specifically whenever his master would mention two friends of his.

What were their names again-?

“Lyle! I thought we lost you! Father would’ve been SO upset!”

Reagan winced at the female voice calling to the boy beside them as multiple pairs of footsteps came towards them.

“Sorry Camilla… Another dog was bothering them so I saved them!” Lyle exclaimed proudly while nudging Reagan, confusing them some more before they gasped when hands cupped their cheeks. 

“AWEEE! Look at you! Aren’t you just the cutest thing?!” 

Then--

“CHARLIE! PLEASE tell me this is your pet! They’re so adorable!!” 

Reagan felt their stomach turn at the name of their master as the woman, who Lyle called ‘Camilla’, pouted at Charlie’s secrecy with them.

They heard their master chuckle, and probably shrugging along, “They aren’t very fond of meeting new people, Cami. Besides, I didn’t want Angie to scare them too much before getting them ‘accustomed’ to this life.” 

Another scoffed, “Quit calling me Angie, Charlie.”

A snicker, “And what exactly are you going to do about it, Angie~?”

“I’m going to shove my boot so far up your-”

“Boys!” Camilla scolded, wrapping her arms around Lyle and Reagan. “Lets take these puppies home for a play date! Come on Charlie! You can’t hog your pet when you already know so much about Lyle since he was a little puppy!”

Lyle beamed as Reagan stiffened, making Charlie snort at the opposite reactions before nodding at Camilla’s words. Angelo, or ‘Angie’ in Charlie’s case, grumbled in annoyance but didn’t have the heart to say ‘no’ to his twin sister.

“Of course~ I don’t see why not.” Charlie replied mischievously, likely thinking about how fun it would be to watch Reagan struggle with their new surroundings with three strangers. 

Reagan shortly felt a hand take their own. Calloused, but almost reassuring in a weird way as they were helped to their feet when Camilla bounced excitedly at Charlie’s agreement.

Much to Angelo’s annoyance. 

“You’ll like our home! It’s big, and I’ll help you not bump into anything!”

They couldn’t understand how Lyle could be so cheerful and call his place a ‘home’. They were sure the other was a pet like they were, likely a fighter dog due to his calloused hands, though he was acting as if this was normal to him.

Too normal.

And yet

with a soft, long sigh, they squeezed Lyle’s hand and nodded their head. 

They didn’t need to see to know that Lyle was smiling widely, tugging them along with him once Angelo snapped at the two of them to hurry up while Charlie and Camilla were squealing about getting matching outfits for their pets.