Slappy- Gripping Wrists

As I struggled to keep my balance, his wooden hands dug into my wrists. They tightened around me, cutting into my skin.
“Let go of me!” I screamed. I struggled to pull my arms away. But he was too strong. Too strong.
The hard fingers dug into my wrists. They squeezed harder, harder— until they cut off all circulation.
“Let go of me! Let go!” My cry came out a shrill wail.
“I give the orders, ssssslave!” Slappy hissed. “You will obey me. Obey me forever! Or you will pay!”
“Let go! Let me go!” I shrieked. I tugged. I struggled to my feet. I jerked my arms up and down.
But Slappy didn’t loosen his hold.
His whole body bounced in the air. Hit the floor. Bounced back up as I pulled.
But his hands gripped even harder.
I couldn’t free myself. And the pain—the intense pain—shot down my arms. Down my sides. Down my whole body.
“Pick me up, sssslave!” the dummy hissed. “Pick me up and put me on my chair.”
“Let go!” I cried. “You’re breaking my wrists! Let go!”
The dummy uttered a cold laugh in reply.
The pain shot through my body. My legs wobbled. I dropped back to my knees.

- Night of the Living Dummy III, chapter 28