Whumper looks down at the kneeling figure before him. Trembling, fearful, broken. Just how they wanted them. They lift that pitiful chin to meet their gaze.
“You’ve been so good for me lately, so I’m going to give you a little treat.”
Whumpee’s eyes fill with wonder and fear. Whumper chuckles and thumbs a tear from their face.
“Today you get to pick your punishment. Doesn’t that sound nice? Hm? Go ahead and bring me what you want.”
They nod their head furiously and rise to their feet unsteadily. A brief sway, and they’re out the door. Whumper turns their attention back to Caretaker, who is gagged and bound in the corner of the room. They are here to watch just how far Whumpee has broken.
Caretaker’s eyes are furious as they fight against their restraints. They pull and struggle, but that only gets them raw, open sores around their bindings. Perfect. Whumper soaks up their rage and desperation. Muted cries and curses like music to their ears.
After a moment, Whumpee returns. They kneel at Whumper’s feet and present the tool they have brought.
Whumper is taken back for a moment. They take the tool and examine it in their hands. It’s the one they use for the most severe punishment; reserved for attacking Whumper or trying to run. It’s not a tool that they leave lying around, easily grabbed without a thought. Whumpee had to search to find this behind the other tools.
“Darling?” they ask as they raise the Whumpee’s eyes once again. They are shaking violently, fully aware of the tool and what it does. “Why did you choose this one?”
Fear is the only coherent thought in their face. Moments pass before they can even calm themselves to try and answer the question.
“Y-you, you said, you said it, it, it, it was your f-f-favorite.”
Whumper’s eyes roll back in their head in pure pleasure. Caretaker must have heard every word, as their cries and the sound of them fighting their restraints grow louder.
“You know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” they coo as they move the tool to their dominant hand.
