So where was I? That’s right, the feral. Blue pegulasus with a red mane.
I’m just sitting there, having a post work beer and he just trots straight in there with “Hawwo, nice mista”.
I don’t really remember how the conversation went. Well, they talk like toddlers, don’t they. Anyway, next thing I’m know, I’m letting him in.
That’s the thing. At that point I really wasn’t sure what I was going to do. Yeah, this was after all the abuse video binges. But there’s a difference between watching and doing, you know? Part of me was definitely thinking about it but…
He called me a “dummeh”. Sounds silly now. No, I wouldn’t say I’m insecure about my intelligence…but when something that thick accuses you of being stupid… I don’t know, hindsight is 20/20.
He was banging on about monsters. I forget exactly how it came up. Being outside was “scardy” and shit like that.
And I said there was no such thing as monsters. Trying to be comforting and that. And the little twat dead eyes me and tells that there “munstas am weaw” and how I’m a “dummeh”. I don’t know, it just rubbed me the wrong way.
Anyway, it’s started to rain at this point and like I said, I was still on the fence about the whole abuse thing, so I tell him he can stay in shoe cupboard for the night. Just til it stopped raining. I Lay down some bedding, an impromptu litter tray etc.
No, he was still muttering about me being a “dummeh”. Yeah, I’d heard they get really clingy. Not this one apparently. And I didn’t need him to be. But a bit of fucking gratitude, you know?
So, I’m lying in bed but I can’t sleep. And I get this idea. Can’t get rid of it. I had an old monster mask in my cupboard. I took my nephew trick or treating last Halloween. Stupid, cheap looking thing. Yeah, you can probably see where I’m going with this.
So, I put it on and creep downstairs. It’s still dark. It’s maybe 11pm?
I sneak to the cupboard and slowly open the door. Little twat was asleep.
Anyway, I slowly get my face so it’s just a few inches away from his. And I reach out and slowly flick his ear.
His eyes open. He clocks my mask and his eyes bulge wide open. We’re talking 1,000 yard stare open. And I start screaming and roaring. Ridiculous. Well, unless you’re a fluffy apparently.
I swear to fucking Christ…
“Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeèeeeeeeee!!!” Man, those abuse videos don’t do that scream justice. That’s the thing though, it doesn’t grate on me. I can’t get enough of it. It’s raw. It’s pure. The very essence of fear.
Fuck yeah, he shat himself. Don’t get me wrong, it does stink. Listen, I’ve been on all night coke binges and still managed to shit out things that weren’t as bad as that. But again…that pure fear.
This is what you’re here for right? The psychology of fluffy abuse. I’m trying my best to explain this but… Well, put it this way - can you explain an adrenaline rush? Or a really great MDMA high? I mean, you ca ntry but words can only get you so far.
I mean, I’m wearing a £5 mask that I got from the bargin bin at ASDA and I’m in boxers Haha! Well, you could argue that is objectively quite scary.
Seriously though. You couldn’t even scare a child like that. Not that I’d want to. I mean, you could make them scream and maybe even cry if you startled them enough but at a certain point, they’d realise what was up. But that fluffy was going through something real. And that fear…I swear I could almost fucking taste it
I was just going to fuck with him. Scare him and then just take the piss out of him. Probably boot him out the house.
Didn’t get the chance though. He died. I mean literally, dropped dead right there. Literally scared stiff. No, literally. Like a board.
Anyway, that’s the first time I abused a fluffy to death. Total fluke. But the taste of that fear. Man, I’ve been chasing that ever since.
You sound disappointed. Sorry mate, that’s how it went down. Are you writing a dissertation or a novel? Well there we go then.
No, it’s not the worst thing I’d ever done. That’s not what you asked.
Nah, sorry. I’ve got work tomorrow. Yeah,maybe some other time. Cheers. Yeah, you too.
. It’s very different from the original story I had in mind, which was going to be in the third person and focused on an abuser gaslighting a fluffy by exploiting its fear of monsters. The words wouldn’t come though and this is what it evolved into.