Interference (A Human Pet Tale)

Chapter 28: Stretches

Missis

I am sitting against the wall as I pet the human gently, rumbling and purring to keep him calm and know that I am here for him.

Attached to multiple wires, an IV machine, a heart monitor, and a feeding tube, he sleeps on with a mask over his face. Surgery went well, but there's only so much medicine you can give such a small underweight human.

Not enough to cover all of his pain.

He whines weakly, struggling to find a way to lie comfortably. I see and carefully reposition the pillows and blankets underneath him.

He sighs, still asleep, and stills.

Heated blankets are one of the best wonders you can do for a human. I smile as I drape him with a thinner blanket, keeping him at a steady temperature.

Day 1. Here we are.

6 WEEKS LATER (AND YES I SKIPPED THE BORING STUFF :)

Fyre

I pant and claw the padding underneath me as the giants help support me, their hands under my chest and torso.

The giant behind my crumpled legs wrapped them in a heated towel, and he moves them up and down, effectively stretching them.

I whimper at the hints of pain, panting harder. I can feel my legs, but I learned that moving them without help is next to impossible.

So when they started doing this a couple days ago, it made them so sore...but in a good way. Stretching them like this have kept them from going completely numb, however painful it is. The fact that even now, tingles rushing through them like pins and needles, tells me that they're still connected to me and they're still mine.

I yelp though as he raises them a bit higher, sending a shooting spike up pain all the way up my spine. My hands are on the table, grasping the edge as they continue with the exercise.

Something tells me they're also trying to build more ab strength and whatnot, but I ignore that fact as they carefully place me on my back, the doctor continuing to move the towel up and down.

A hand grazes my forehead as I whimper, shaking.

I shake as he stills my legs, giving me a break. Gasping, I groan as the tingles prick from my waist down. I desperately try to move my legs on my own, but my body doesn't listen to me. The giants grumbles to each other, and the one who has been taking care of me places his hand on my stomach, shaking his head no.

I stare at him helplessly, still trying to move my legs. Something sharp travels through them, and I scream, clawing against the large hands.

Crying, the burning pain subsides a few minutes later, and I relax, exhausted. My caretaker sighs, shaking his head.

The giant at my legs starts to move my legs again, and I actually try to worm out of their grasp. Too much. This has gotten to be too much. They gently hold me as I struggle lamely, wincing and crying at the horrifying agony eating away at my body.

Larix

I wrap up the pup's legs in a new heated towel as we flip him back over, giving his body the motion it needs to stretch and grow back as much flexibility as it possibly can.

At this point, he is shaking, his cheeks stained with tears. Missis pets and coos to him as the rest of the team helps support him on his arms.

After 20 minutes of the routine, I finally stop, settling his legs on a large pile of pillows. He huffs in relief and exhaustion, his eyes barely staying open for more than a second before they close. They then fight open again a moment later, only to repeat the process.

"You're all sleepy now from all the work, aren't you?" Missis coos softly as we smile at the human. They continue to hold him up as he tries to stay awake, keeping him off his body.

His legs needs to rest on their own for a bit after this exercise before he supports the rest of his body.

"Just rest in our hands, now." Missis deepens his voice, and I chuckle. It may also be a little bit of trust training. Just so he can learn we mean him no harm.

He grumbles, a little upset at the hands and the session with his legs. I don't blame him. It can be quite painful, working the crushed muscles.

"Alright, you can ease him down." I whisper as his breathing deepens, signifying that he's fallen asleep. They do so, wringing and shaking their hands.

This recovery is going to continue to be extensive, but with what we have to work with, he's doing better than expected.

That makes my heart dance with pride.