Pliers 02
Warnings for mentions of teeth removal and panic attacks
OC Monster Whumpee and OC Master fic
Link to 01
"Lad? You listening?" Master prompted and Whumpee forced themself to nod, even as they were trying not to tremble. "Second shelf down, black toolbox, alright?"
There was no point making Master angrier and Whumpee nodded. They slipped out of the garage and padded through the house with their heart in their throat. The grass was wet under their paws as they hurried down the garden. It was better not to keep Master waiting, even as Whumpee wanted to drag it out forever.
They nudged the shed door open and slipped inside. The black toolbox sat on the shelf, darkly sinister and unmissable. Whining softly to themself, Whumpee forced themself to go forwards and shakily lift the box down, careful not to scratch the box’s black paint with their claws. Maybe it was their claws that were the problem, not their fangs this time. Maybe Master would stamp his big boot down on Whumpee’s paw to keep it still and then use the pliers to pull-
Whumpee retched and tried, frantically, to get their breathing under control. Every second that passed, Master was waiting for them and getting more angry, even though he hadn’t seemed angry at all. But then New Master never did, not even when Whumpee had clumsily smashed the bowl in the kitchen last week. Old Master would have belted them for that until their fur was sticky with blood, but New Master had just sighed and told Whumpee not to cut their paws on the fragments.
But clearly Master’s patience had run out, or he knew that Whumpee was just a Bad Pet and needed fixing, like Old Master said.
Whumpee shook their head. There was no time for this! Shaking all over, their heart beating furiously and sweat making their fur itch, they opened up the black toolbox. Inside was several rows of metal...things. Things to grab and twist. Things to hurt Bad Pets with. Whumpee whimpered.
Still, they made themself reach inside, pushing the cold things aside until they found the pliers. They knew what pliers looked like and their stomach turned over as they remembered having that icy metal pressed up against their lip, scraping against their front fang, when they still had front fangs. They’d been bad; they’d bitten Old Master when Old Master had tried to belt them, to teach them to be better, and so they’d had their fangs taken away.
Whumpee’s breathing was shallow and harsh as they returned to Master in the garage, the hateful metal pliers gingerly held in their mouth.
Master looked up when Whumpee came reluctantly inside and then grunted. “Good lad, that’s the one.” He held out his hand and Whumpee forced their paws to take them closer, gently dropping the pliers into Master’s palm. Master had called them ‘good’, but Whumpee must have been bad, really bad, to deserve this. But they didn’t know what they’d done.
“What is it?” Master said abruptly and Whumpee flinched, realising that they’d been whining softly. They ducked their head, expecting a blow, but none came. “Ah, I forget you can’t speak,” Master sighed, more to himself than Whumpee, Whumpee thought. He was studying them and Whumpee shrunk down, a soft whine escaping despite their best efforts. New Master rarely spoke to them and didn’t even seem to notice they were there most of the time and Whumpee had gotten used to it. To now have Master’s undivided attention was terrifying.
Whumpee braced for a rough hand grabbing their jaw, expecting and dreading it, and yet they couldn’t stop themself cringing away with a yelp when Master reached out a hand towards them. Master froze and Whumpee, shaking violently, didn’t know why Master had stopped. Did he think Whumpee would bite? They wouldn’t, they’d learned better than that.
“What’s spooked you, hm?” Master said and Whumpee didn’t understand. The pliers were still in Master’s hand but he hadn’t grabbed hold of Whumpee’s fur yet, or even shouted at them for moving away. “Come here, lad, take it easy.”
Whumpee crawled nearer to Master. They had to be obedient but their legs trembled with how much they wanted to bolt away, to run and run away from the humans that always hurt them, sooner or later. But they’d tried that and it’d only been worse in the end.
Still, when Master made a movement with the pliers, Whumpee recoiled.
“Please,” they whimpered.
To be continued...