#multiple whumpers

Maya enjoyed her job. 

Or, at least she hoped she did. Maya took a sip from her thermos of lukewarm coffee, her eyes halfheartedly flitting to the horribly cheesy posters that decorated the staff room. Being a Head Handler at Paws & Claws wasn’t a bad gig all things considered. Sure, Feral male Demihumans weren’t the easiest to control, sometimes the customers were a bit odd—especially those who adopt Cuddlers, though she would never judge them aloud—and the hours are stiflingly long. 

Yet, despite these flaws, Maya had to admit the salary was fair enough to put food on the table, that most customers were patient, and that she was doing rather important work. 

At least, Maya hoped it was important.

So, after running through the pros and cons for a moment more, Maya figured her job wasn’t something worth abandoning. After a glance at the clock Maya finished her coffee, rinsing the thermos in the sink before returning it to her bag in the staff locker room. Taking a moment to rub her knees, Maya found herself a bit concerned by the fact that kneeling on the floor to play with a catboy gave her issues at thirty before a sharp tone from her radio snapped her out of her thoughts. 

“Code yellow!” A tinny voice yelped beneath the static and the faint sound of footsteps, “I repeat Code Yellow. Catboy um—“ the voice stumbled as Maya rushed out of the staff room, “FerM411J8 is running through the staff hallways unsupervised.”

“Harvey…” Maya hissed to herself before unlatching her radio from her belt, “I’m on it, where’d he come from?” She responded, keeping her ears peeled as she scanned the hallways.

“He ran down the staff entrance to the grooming salon.” The voice Maya now recognized as Jordan’s, responded. In truth Maya was thankful the code was only a warning so far, the last thing anyone needed was for this to escalate. 

“I see him, J.J!” Vera chimed in, “It seems like he’s headed to the training rooms.” 

Maya cursed inwardly, so much for three months without incident.“Code Orange; Catboy FerM411J8 is trying to escape.” Maya called over the radio, picking up the pace as she clutched the radio tighter; Of course he’s going for Triscuit. He'd never leave without him. “Would the Handler of Catboy FerQ128R7 please stay with him and lock the socialization room.” Maya rattled off before returning her radio to her belt, ignoring the responses to the code.

 Maya heard the putter of padded footsteps down an adjoining hallway and turning the corner she came face to face with the—honestly quite pathetic—sight of a dripping wet Harvey: stark naked with soap still lathered in his blonde fur. Upon locking eyes with Maya, Harvey turned on his heel and ran. So, Maya gave chase, hastily reporting that she had eyes on him before calling after him to no avail. Harvey suddenly turned left, knocking over a nearby recycling bin in hopes of slowing his assailants down. Maya simply stepped around it and continued the chase, barely keeping her balance as her workboots slipped on the wet tile; she continued to run after the soaked catboy. Maya shouted after him, well aware from their shouting that J.J and Vera were close behind her. 

Just when he was gaining some distance, Harvey fell. Scrambling on all fours and sliding with a screeching yowl, before slamming into the wall and losing momentum. Maya took the opportunity, closed the gap, and tackled the catboy just as he was getting back up on two feet. Maya radioed in to call off the code, steadily pressing down between Harvey’s shoulderblades to pin down the thrashing catboy. “Got him!” She yelled to J.J and Vera who were rapidly making their way down the hall. 

Uncapping a syringe of sedative with deft movements Maya settled herself on Harvey’s upper back, barely holding back a startled sound as she caught his arm as he swatted at her, pinning it to the tile floor. Harvey, predictably, attempted to bite at the arm that was pinning his hand, only receiving a mouthful of her arm guard as a result. “Just stay still, and you’ll be fine.” Maya soothed, preparing the syringe as Harvey bucked and yowled beneath her. Steadily, Maya lined the syringe up with the vein before pressing the needle beneath the skin just below the barcode on his wrist. 

Maya made swift work injecting the sedative before removing the needle and placing the syringe aside. Ignoring how the blood began to bead at the injection site, Maya used her now freed hand to give a soft pat to Harvey’s soaking wet hair. Maya sighed, taking a second to calmly comb the soap out of Harvey’s hair with her bare fingers all the while he continued to scream and writhe like he was dying. 

“Oh Harvey, you were doing good.” she tutted, “Why do you do this to yourself, kitty?” Harvey only let out a petulant whine, babbling something Maya didn’t truly care to listen to. Soon his thrashing began to still, his eyelids fluttering shut and body going limp as the drug took effect. Maya felt her shoulders relax, she grabbed the empty syringe before standing.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Maya addressed the crowd of two, “the latest escape attempt of Harvey The Houdini.” The joke was only met with the hum of artificial lights and the exhausted silence that always followed these predicaments. After a moment Vera clapped lightly, hastily moving to care for the unconscious Catboy. 

“I’m sorry, Maya,” J.J panted after a moment, straightening out his collar, “I had him chained in the bath, I just turned my back to get something and he slid out.”

“It’s not your fault J.J,” Maya placated him, rolling up her sleeves, “he tends to do this.” A flicker of relief crossed J.J’s face as Maya dimly recognized Vera was humming a soft tune. 

“I’ll put a note in his file to sedate him during grooming.” Maya stated, tightening her arm guards before pulling her sleeves over them again.

“Oh, how long in isolation?” Vera asked from behind her, Maya turned around to see her holding Harvey—who was thankfully no longer naked—in a bridal carry.

“An hour should be fine.” Maya decided, Vera blew a stray ginger hair out of her eyes before nodding and hurrying over to isolation. 

Maya stifled a sigh before turning back to J.J, who had seemed to have some energy returned to his wiry form. “Do you think he’ll be alright?” J.J prodded, eyeing the trail of wet pawprints that winded down the hallway behind him, “I mean, does pinning him down break the Three B Rule?” Maya frowned, taking a moment to adjust a bobby pin in her hijab before cringing at the unfortunate wetness on her pants and apron.

“It wasn’t my best move,” Maya admitted, “but I'd rather pin him down than have him break something as I'm trying to put him into a hold.” J.J hummed in agreement and put on an easy smile. 

“Thanks for catching him.” J.J smiled, the pleasantry tailing off into a weary laugh at the end as he ran a hand over his neatly clipped afro. 

“All in a day’s work.” Maya replied with a grin, “I hope your next appointment is easier for you J.J.” She offered, J.J replied in turn as they both went their separate ways. In the privacy of the empty staff locker room, Maya traded her wide legged teal pants for a pink ankle length skirt. After swiftly swapping out her apron for a dry one, she attached the necessary note to Harvey’s file; Maya made a mental note that she had laundry to do when she got home. 

It wasn’t long until Maya found herself in the lobby of the shelter. Despite the stiff mundanity of the simple room, Maya could admit that the natural light and walls adorned with cheerful posters were a more than welcome reprieve from the staff hallway’s artificially lit maze of white walls. Now, seated in a plastic chair with a lethargic catboy resting by her side, Maya hummed a tune as she gingerly threaded her fingers through the creature’s ginger hair. keeping a tight hold on the rope leash before startling as a mitted hand hit her on the knee hard enough to trigger her leg to kick out in a reflex. 

“Hey. No hitting, Junior.” Maya scolded, gripping the catboy’s hand and setting it back down next to him. Junior simply looked up at her, his yellow eyes nearly hidden by his blown pupils, raised his mitted hands to the cloth gag over his mouth and slurred out the start of a muffled sentence.  

“Nuh-uh, bud.” Maya interrupted with an exaggerated shake of her head, “No talking. Your voice has got to heal.” Junior’s brows furrowed, nose wrinkling in what Maya was sure was a pout hidden behind the gag. “Oh, it’s not forever.” She explained trying to hold in her laughter at the uncharacteristic display. 

Cooing, Maya positioned Junior to lay his head on her lap with careful movements, before playfully tickling under his chin. Unfortunately, Junior gave her nothing but a discontent sigh, only settling as Maya rested her hand on top of his head. Glancing around the practically barren lobby and scanning the room for any familiar faces, Maya decided to at least try and channel her boredom into an excuse for good conversation. A mother chatted with the receptionist, her teenager idly reading some pamphlets to her left. A tall man waited behind them with a bag of kibble in his arms and– 

Maya paused, boredom immediately fading as she recognized the sight of a broad shouldered woman in carefully embroidered jeans. Maya wondered for a second why Elise was standing in the leashes section of the small shop, but swiftly brushed the thought aside with a grin as a particularly impish idea came to mind. Maya failed to stifle a chuckle as she unhooked her radio from her belt, glancing over in Elise’s direction.

“Hey, Khim, this is Fathi checkin’ in. Over.” Maya pestered into her radio, the words echoing in a static filled reverberation. Maya choked on the laugh clinging to her ribs as Elise glanced at her own radio before turning in her direction and sighing with an unusually dour shake of her head. Maya simply smiled with a wave. Waiting with hopeful silence that Elise would at least play along. However, Elise simply returned the leash to its hook and hurried over to Maya, only plastering on a grin halfway. 

“I’m in the same room as you, Maya.” Elise huffed, her voice as smooth as ever despite the clearly forced smile

“I know, it's just so fun using these, right?” Maya grinned, smoothly clipping her radio back on her belt despite anxiety flickering deep in her stomach. Elise only nodded with a forcefully cheery sound as Maya began rubbing gentle circles behind Junior’s ears, “are there not enough leashes in stock for Domestics?” 

Elise’s mouth twitched into a confused frown before she choked back a startled noise. “No, um it’s fine, we have enough.” Elise stammered out, adjusting her Hello Kitty bandana as she explained “just poking around before my next appointment.” 

“Oh,” Maya paused, keenly aware that Elise would never just shop aimlessly, “fun.” Maya agreed, realizing that she was probably overthinking. The silence that followed was only broken by the sound of a deep, content purring that was coming from—an unusually calm—Junior. 

“Huh, that’s new.” Elise commented, tilting her head as a genuine grin pulled at her lips.

“Yeah,” Maya agreed, watching with a small laugh how the catboy’s ears flicked when she stopped the petting, “I guess I finally found something he likes.” Elise nodded as she shifted in her sneakers. A moment of unnatural silence followed before Maya spoke again. 

“Say, ” Maya started, trying to keep her voice low, “Is everyone okay, after what happened last week?” She asked, biting the inside of her lip as she remembered how suddenly Elise left work. 

“It’s alright.” Elise forced out, fidgeting with her hands idly, “Thanks.” She added after a second, her lips pressed into a tight line. 

“Any time,”  Maya frowned, “let me know if you need anything.”  Worry sparked in Maya’s chest as she recalled how Elise’s text explained through misspellings that her grandmother fell, and her parents were waiting with her at the hospital. Elise only nodded, eyes averted. 

“Junior?” Connor called from the doorway of the vet’s office, “Dr. Lewis will see you now.” The assistant grinned with a cautious smile that did not dissuade Junior from cowering under Maya’s chair.  

“Bye, Elise,” Maya smiled, keeping a firm grip on Junior’s now taut leash. “See you later?”  Elise only nodded, mumbling something Maya couldn’t catch before turning to leave with a wavering smile. Maya sighed, confusion and anxiety writhing in her chest as she focused her attention on coaxing Junior forward. 

The vet’s office reeked of rubber gloves and hand sanitizer. A scent so artificially cleanly that Maya stifled a sneeze as she entered, trying to keep a grasp on Junior who was intent on trying to climb over her shoulder from a hastily done—and admittedly poorly executed—bridal carry. 

Maya pushed down the anxiety thrumming in her veins, focusing on comforting Junior with gentle words when he was strapped to the table with methodical hands, on holding his head steady while Dr. Lewis slid a wire-like scope down his throat. As Maya watched Junior’s voice box weakly contract and expand on the screen as he yowled, she found herself disturbingly comforted by the guttural noises that signaled he could breathe despite the intrusion. When the examination was finally done, Maya walked Junior back to the Ferals den, staying calm despite having to drag him by the scruff of his neck when he refused to move with the leash—if only because the hissy-fit, while annoying, meant the drugs were wearing off— In spite of this, Maya was thoroughly relieved by the fact that the rest of the day would only entail . 

Maya had clocked out of work when she saw Elise from across the room again, sitting alone at their small table across from the front window of the quaint cafe that adjoined the shelter, still in her handler uniform. Worry sparked in Maya’s chest again, she busied her hands by stirring sugar into her decaf tea before sitting down across from Elise, thoroughly startling her in the process. After hastily apologizing, Maya made a halfhearted attempt to regale Elise with a retelling of Harvey’s latest escape. Barely getting started before the silence from Elise became far too concerning, and the worry became far too pressing to ignore. 

“Elise,” Maya called, setting down her tea as her friend met her gaze. Upon feeling a rush of anxiety at Elise’s despondent stare, Maya forced herself to relax her shoulders. “are you okay?” 

tropes:

Whumper's point of view

Multiple whumpers

multiple whumpees

nonhuman whumpees

lab whump (Mentioned)

medical whump

institutional/societal whump

carewhumpers

defiant whumpees

bound and gagged

pet whump

conditioned whumpees

minor whumpees (Mentioned, no harm done on screen)

parts:

1. Code Orange

Residing within damp concrete walls, perfectly straight rows of wire cages sat as still as corpses, all of them were carefully slotted within faded paint of the parking lines. The vast room was lit by stifling electric lights that swung high above, casting flickering shadows upon the crowded kennels. The air was thick with the stench of animals, of sweat and neglected filth. Indistinct conversations echoed off the thick concrete walls and frigid asphalt floor. The reverberations nearly covered up by the sound of muffled agony, of screams and whimpers that went overlooked at best and were taunted at worst.

In the third to last row, a girl knelt in a cramped cage. Her head bowed and body folded to fit into the compact space, metal bit into what little flesh remained on her bony knees and she shivered against the draft that chilled her to her bones. Someone screamed, likely from a few cages down, though distant and muffled as it was, it still echoed off the unyielding concrete.

The girl bit down on the makeshift gag that was shoved in her mouth. The crudely placed cloth between her teeth, and duct tape crushing her lips, were hidden behind the once pristine bandana that was now nothing more than a saliva drenched piece of fabric tied tightly behind her head. Breathing in the foul taste of her own breath through the cloth, she attempted to stop the shivers that wracked her body. Tremors that shook her hands, and rattled the cuffs that had been bolted to the floor. Despite the girl’s efforts, her meager outfit of oversized boxers and an ill-fitting tank top did little to protect from the cold.

Realizing the attempt was futile, the girl bent low, content with holding her head in her hands. She breathed in the sharp scent of metal as the short chain connecting the shackle around her neck to the wire cage fell slack. She reveled in the sound of the discordant clattering as the ache in her neck subsided, though the wire soon clawed and scratched at the flesh on her arms. The girl pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, wrapping her tail around her side despite the fact she knew the feeling of the matted fur pressing against her outer thigh would offer no warmth. Her ears unwillingly flicked towards the sound of approaching footsteps, glancing up she caught the sight of well shined shoes and neatly pressed dress slacks in her peripheral.

Swiftly, she raised her head and did not stop the instinctive growl that left her throat, following it with a bout of cursing that came out as incomprehensible mumbling. The chain went tight again as she pushed herself up to watch the poor excuse of a man pass her, he didn’t even spare a glance in her direction.

Good.

​​

The pulsing ache soon returned to her neck where the shackle rested so she let herself bury her head in her palms once more, as she pulled at her matted auburn curls she wondered how anyone could get away with the barbarity of all of this. The entire Chimera trade, they were selling people. People. Chimera or not, everyone in here, caged or not, was a person. Every single one had lives and dreams.

She was a person.

But she wasn’t human, not to everyone else.

Somehow, that was enough.

Footsteps neared her again, muffled by the echoes of a far off struggle. The girl did not look up as the footsteps stopped. A sob left her, muffled by the gag. When had she even begun to cry?

“Hello, dearest.” A voice cooed. The girl looked up and flinched back with a startled cry as she realized someone, a woman more aptly, was crouched eye level with her just past the wire cage. The girl simply stared, feeling anger rise in her chest, though it dulled replaced with confusion as she met the woman’s gentle eyes.

“Yes, hello.” The woman murmured again, her voice soft and toying, a nearly sharp smile pulling at her lips. The woman’s slim hand reached through the gaps in the wire cage, her manicured nails brushing against the girl’s palm raising goosebumps before the girl jolted back shrieking out muffled protests as she shuffled away in spite of the pain that came from her restraints biting at her wrists.

“No, no, no.” the stranger hushed her voice soft with something close to pity. The girl bit down at the cloth with a mix of a shout and an instinctive growl, she didn’t need pity. Not from this vile woman. “It’s okay,” the woman continued, pulling her hand to clutch the fur coat to her chest, “I’m not going to hurt you.” The ‘yet’ was so painfully clear despite the honeyed tone that the girl could nearly laugh if she had the energy. Anyone willing to buy someone was going to hurt them. The girl might not be fully human, but she wasn’t stupid.

“Be careful, ma’am.” A smoker's voice spoke from above her, tinged with a heavy cockney accent, undoubtedly an employee. “This one’s got some…issues.”

“Issues?” the woman asked, her attention pulled away from the girl. The girl stared at the employee as she felt anger rush through her blood again, fear quickly followed as she got a glimpse of the baton on his belt.

“Yes, this product-” he started again, only to be cut off by the woman.

“Oh, what’s her name?” The woman asked, her tone of genuine curiosity almost hid the fact that she was a selfish prick. The cage rattled, sending a sickening jolt to the girl’s stomach as the man leaned on it with a contemplative hum.

“Ah, Dorian Aetos.” the gruff voice stated, Dorian looked up at her own name, how long has it been since she heard it? “As aggressive as they come.”

“Dorian,” the woman hushed, turning her attention to the bound chimera, laughing when she jolted upon hearing it. Dorian cursed her, and she laughed again, sharp and light as she stood, teetering on her kitten heeled shoes.

“She is a proper beauty,” the woman began, “what breed is she?” The crate shifted again and Dorian bit back a growl as the hairs on the back of her neck rose. The gall, talking about her as if she’s not there. Not human enough to understand. Her mouth filled with saliva as she thought of biting them for it, of letting her nails rake into their flesh. Still, she pulled against her chains and could only imagine. Imagining soon turned to a guilt tinged wondering; when did she ever become violent?

“Border Collie.” The employee answered, “She’d be a charm if it weren’t for those teeth, you can see them on the chart here.” There was the rustle of paper and no doubt the exchanging of a clip board as the woman let out an intrigued hum.

“Oh yes, quite sharp.” she remarked, “such a lovely coat though I’ll say.”

“Quite,” the man agreed, “though, if you’re thinking about purchasing, I could lead you to some more passive products. She’s not a good dog for a first timer.”

The woman laughed again, “no, no I’m sure i’ll manage.” the next words chilled Dorian far more than any draft or wire cage could, “How much is she? It doesn’t say.”

No.

No, she could not be getting bought. It couldn’t happen.

“Well, she’s under eighteen, so that does raise the price.” The man began, lightning something like a sick hope in Dorian’s heart. Maybe she was expensive? Yes, Chimeras usually cost a fortune, don’t they? At least Dorian thought so.

“But hand-me-down pets are on a discount,” the employee continued, “which would lower the price to somewhere around-”

Dorian stopped listening as the man named a price that she couldn’t even think about without her head spinning. Still, she turned the number over in her head repeating each digit until it was etched into her memory. Despite this, the thought of how much she cost churned her empty stomach with the fact that she shouldn’t have a price at all.

“Is that the final offer?” The woman hesitated with a low hum, rekindling a spark of nearly forgotten hope in Dorian’s chest. If the woman turned away, if Dorian was too expensive to be whatever these monsters considered worth their time, maybe, just maybe, she’d be left alone.

Then maybe, she mused, she could save up the strength to cut through the bars with her chains. With a glance down at the cuffs on her wrists, Dorian instead decided another plan would certainly work better, so, retreating into her mind as the two vile people droned on above her, she began to think of one.

Maybe when a guard brings her food—If she could even call it that, honestly she’d prefer to eat bugs again than choke down that bland paste—when he gets the gag out from between her teeth she can attack him? Rip his throat out, or something.

Wait, could she even do that? Dorian hadn’t tried to kill someone before, she had threatened to. Even daydreamed about it, before guilt made her sick to her stomach. Yet somehow, the thought of actively doing it, of killing someone, made her head reel with horror that struck as a reminder that she wasn’t all that different from the woman looking to buy her. A heavy weight settled in her chest, something she’d often felt, but didn’t care to name.

“Oh, wonderful!” The woman cheerfully assented above Dorian, the quickness of her tone and the soft clap of excitement shattering Dorian’s sorrowful daydream in an instant. There was the sound of shuffling feet and Dorian shivered again, suddenly aware of the cold that sunk beneath her skin.

“I’ll lead you to the seller’s office ma’am” the employee offered, his voice pulling Dorian’s attention away from the cold in her bones, “you can finalize the purchase there.”

A renewed wave of dread sunk beneath Dorian’s skin as the words echoed in her mind.

Purchase.

She was getting bought. Traded like a common object.

Again.

Her mind reeled at the finality of it all. Bile and anger rose to her throat in ample measure as she heard the employee mumble something into the walkie-talkie. Crying out in a muffled shriek as he led the woman away, Dorian let anger bloom in her chest and seep into her muscles, pulling against her chains with renewed vigor. Panic filled her every movement as the cage unlocked with a sharp metallic click. She let her instincts propel her backward, straining against the metal restraints as they pressed into the back of her neck and hands. A hand neared her, a command lost under the pounding of her heartbeat.

Dorian lunged. Her teeth mauling the strip of cloth between them uselessly as a meaty hand swiftly pinned her down, sending an ache sprawling up her arms and neck. The shackle was unclipped and fell with a clatter that echoed in her ears, as handcuffs were unchained from the mesh just as swiftly. Dorian pushed up against the hand that pinned her, only to let out a yelp as a baton swiftly cracked against her barely covered ribs, sending her crashing back down to the asphalt to curl in on herself. Another set of hands pinned her flailing legs, swiftly slipping a second pair of handcuffs on her ankles, before pulling them taut against the matted fur.

Both employees hauled Dorian up by the arms, dragging her wailing and kicking towards a destination she didn’t care enough to wonder about. Even as the asphalt tore at the cracked pads of her paws, Dorian let her feet drag. The employees hauled her to a fate she was too terrified to entertain.

.

.