this may hurt [on hiatus]

An ongoing pet whump series set in a bbu type universe! I’ll put all parts here in the order I write them, although I might skip around a little they’ll be ordered how they’re intended to be read. If you want to be added to the taglist just lmk!

A warning: This series is 18+ and very explicit, and will feature a lot of heavy/dark topics. Please be sure to read the CWs.

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Act 1: Wear & Tear

37 is a romantic, owned by a not-exactly-5-star hotel and casino in the city of Las Vegas. There’s a reason the hotel only buys used and refurbished romantics from the WRU (aside from just money); 37 does everything in his power to be perfect, but after being passed around for so long cracks start to show…

1. In, and Out

2. Probably Not A Big Deal

3. Hallway (Pt. I) <- mostly flashback

4. Hallway (Pt. II)

5. Talking

6. Please Don’t Forget <- mostly flashback

7. Impact

8. Tightrope

9. Thin Ice

10. Family (Pt. I)

11. Family (Pt. II)

Freed whumpee who can no longer function without the structure of captivity.

Freed whumpee who cries and begs their caretaker on their hands and knees to be punished so they can be relieved of the all-consuming guilt they feel whenever they make a mistake their whumper would have punished them for.

Caretaker who finally gives in and gives them as mild a punishment as they can that will still make whumpee feel absolved.

Whumpee shaking and crying through their punishment but tearfully thanks their whumper caretaker over and over for making them good again.

Whumpee who can only eat and sleep after brutal correction.

caretaker has no idea what they're doing. they took some self-defence classes half a decade ago but they know that trying to get whumpee to fight from the get-go would end with them collapsing and ugly crying into the boxing gloves.

I need like NEED more pet whump focused more on the actual training process.

Whumper getting whumpee used to sleeping in a kennel. So confined and restrictive that even when they aren't in the kennel they begin to naturally curl up into a tight ball while sleeping.

Making sure Whumpee never speaks, not like a person at least, maybe the training is so good that even after whumpee is saved, all they can manage is barks and whines just like a dog.

Whumper forces whumpee to eat dog food, or an equivalent, right out of a dog bowl, just like a dog should. When whumpee is saved, they simply refuse to eat for a few days, they're a good dog, good dogs don't eat off plates.

Until finally caretaker (desperate to avoid whumpee developing refeeding syndrome) buys a dog bowl for whumpee. Which, much to the relief (and slight horror) of caretaker, finally gets whumpee to eat, though hesitantly, after all whumper did good to teach whumpee that dogs don't eat people food.

Caretaker has to get creative to find ways to get whumpee to eat actual people food that won't make them feel like they're disobeying.

Whumpee who insists on sleeping at the foot of caretaker's bed, who sits beside the bed whimpering and whining until finally caretaker relents, whumpee jumping up on the bed and quickly falling asleep at caretaker's feet.

Whumpee is taught commands, sit, stay, roll over, it takes some convincing (withholding food, shock collar, beatings) but eventually whumpee begins to play along.

Whumpee feels an attachment to their collar, because being collared means being owned, being owned means you're useful, the only reason whumpee survived whumper is because they stayed useful. So when caretaker tries to take whumpee's collar off they become hysterical, crying and freaking out, cowering in a corner. The first time caretaker hears whumpee speak is whumpee begging to not be put down, that they can learn more tricks. They can do better, be better. They'll do anything, anything if it means they'll stay caretakers pet.

Whumpee had watched other 'pets' being put down, usually in awful slow and painful ways. As whumper always said "If you aren't useful alive, you might as well be entertaining as you die".

Big scary living weapon whumpee following around their little old lady caretaker ready to defend her with his life on her trips to the grocery store after she saw him sitting in the rain and brought him in for tea.

He’s at least two feet taller than her and built like a tank, meant to fight and destroy and kill but she just politely asks if he’ll carry the big bag of cat food to the car as she’s “not as young as she once was”. He carries the cat food and doesn’t feel sick to his stomach following orders any more.

She retired years ago but still keeps up her errands, writing letters and playing cards with her other lady friends, all of whom coo and fawn over him (after their initial concern) and he becomes the recipient of many a homemade craft. His closet overflows with grandma sweaters and his bed is layered with quilts, and it’s the first time he’s been surrounded by such softness and warmth. And they never have to worry about having some big strong man to help get their Christmas decorations out of the attic.

He calls her Miss and ma’am, as if he was afraid of her name, while she calls him honey like it was his name. He likes it better. There were no bad memories tied to “honey”, only those of tea and cookies in her mismatched kitchen chairs and walks down to the park when the weather was nice.