Goldilocks was all tucked up in bed, warm and cozy in her saferoom. A plush blanket featuring her favorite FluffTV star, Captain Flufftastic, was tugged up to her neck. A bunch of stuffy-fwends surrounded her, and the golden-furred mare felt her eyes drooping a bit from sleepies. Mummah noticed this and turned to leave after having made sure she was all taken of. Fussing immediately, her owner turned with a smile and knew that it wouldn’t be so easy to get away. Walking over to a little pink bookcase stuffed with various literature fit for fluffies, she selected Goldi’s favorite and went to sit crosslegged next to her pet.
“Wub Spawkews Fun Abentews.” The mare could barely keep her eyes open as mummah read from the book, flipping it over so she could view the pictures. Sparkles Fun Adventures was something mummah had read her since she was a foal and by now she knew what every picture and word was, but it didn’t matter. It still gave her biggest heart happies. Soon enough, she was sound asleep and snoring. A kiss to the top of her head and her owner was out of the room.
++++
Before Goldilocks knew it, she was in a big grassy place full of flowers and interesting toys. This was the park! Did mummah take her here? Goldi absolutely loved the park! It was a place where you got to be with nyu friends, tumble down the slide, and mummah always bought a big pretzel from the nice man running a cart.
Looking around, she couldn’t see mummah or any other fluffies. There wasn’t anyone to have fun with. Well, maybe she could take advantage of this. Usually the park was so busy you had to wait a few minutes to even go down the slide or jostle for a place in the sandbox. Skittering up to an appropriately sized set of stairs for a fluffy, she went clambering up one of the pieces of play equipment and nudged up close to the entrance of the slide. Something seemed different than usual. It felt…really far down. Eyes darting nervously to the side, she peered through the bars of the play equipment. The rest of the park couldn’t even be seen: Seemingly, she was miles up into the air. Fluffy white clouds gathered far down below and everything around her was a sea of blue. It was terribly cold now, too, and difficult to breathe.
“Hewwo!? Pwease hewp fwuffy! Hab scawdies!” Maybe she should go down the slide. That could be a way down. Yet looking at the piece of plastic, it stretched on for what seemed like forever. Giving a small ‘huu’, she jerked in surprise as a hand grabbed her from behind. There had been nobody there just a second ago and when she turned to get a good look, Goldi screeched in fear.
It was a big daddeh but he didn’t look normal. His skin was all withered and darkened, looking kind of like a shriveled up poop. A slouch hat was parked over his head, and he wore a big stuffy sweater that had a picture of two chirpies hugging a heart on the front. It’s not like she could read but the heart had ‘COO AND WUB’ written in the center of it. Aside from how shriveled he looked, the most noticeable thing about him was the glove he wore. Thick knit cotton stretching out over one hand, the tips of each finger and the thumb capped off with a fluffy finger puppet of different colors. Leaning down to her, she smelled something off about him. Charred like when mummah burnt din-din, and when he got close enough to her face it smelled like when there was something that had went fowebbah sweepies in the house. A pool of piddle grew underneath her.
“M-Munstah mistah pwease nu gib scawdies o’ huwties tu Gowdiewocks huuhuu…” Without even realizing it, her hooves went back and she was perched precariously at the top of the massive slide.
“Know what my favorite dance is?” The man asked her with a crooked smile, wiggling his finger puppets at her.
Giving a tilt of her head, Goldilocks shook her head and looked confused. “D-Dancies? Nu am know!”
With a jerk forward, the gloved hand sent one of the finger puppets colliding against her cheek. It was enough to send her off-kilter and go stumbling down the edge of the play equipment, being swept down with a terrified screech.
“The electric SLIDE, BITCH!” Goldi watched as the munstah man cackled from above though she was picking up speed and quickly lost distance, watching as he turned into nothing more than a speck before being out of sight completely. The fluffy still couldn’t see the ground from how high up she was, scaredy poopies jetting out behind her and streaking along the slide in a brown flood.
Friction began to form more and more, the slide burning through her fur and eventually snagging bits and pieces of said fur off. “OWWIES!” Tears flowed out the corners of her eyes, front hooves waggling helplessly up in the air as she watched a twist coming up. Even a fluffy knew that hitting a twist going this fast would result in some huwties, so the mare prepared herself for impact. Hitting the twist with rocket-like speed, she went flipping off over the side and sailing through the air.
“EEEEEE!” Thinking that she was going to keep going down until she eventually hit the ground, instead the fluffy found the blue winding expanse of the slide looming up to meet her. Hitting the hard plastic with a massive thump, one of her weggies was torn straight off from the sheer force and went over the side. Catching her remaining legs against the sides of the slide, she wept and watched as blood tricked down from her wound.
“S-Stay hewe weggies. Huwwwttieesss!” A minute passed by. Two. A fluffy didn’t know how futile it was to keep like this but she’d try her best. Muscles quavering, body aching with the pain of her gaping injury and the strain, Goldilocks found her hoofs giving away against the slick material of the slide before eventually losing her place completely and sent back down along her journey.
How long did it go? She couldn’t tell. It seemed as if the piece of play equipment stretched on forever. Friction built up as it before though she no longer had much fur along her body to lose. Instead, chunks of her flesh were rubbed off of her body to leave a streak of gore down the plastic. Feeling as if she’d catch on fire soon, she peeked over the side. Now she could see the ground. Finally!
“HEWWPPP MUMMMAAHHHH!” Maybe mummah would be down there waiting for her. Unbeknownst to her, the slide had worn down her back enough so that patches of her spine were exposed. Choked with sobs from the pain and fear that wracked her body, Goldi found that the end of the slide was quickly arriving. Directly at the bottom of the slide was a brick wall, a bulls-eye neatly painted on the center.
“Nu–nu-nu! Tu fasties! Nu wan huwties! NUUUU!” Attempting to get her hooves against the sides of the slide only resulted in them being torn clean off, and her eyes were held wide in panic as the end came closer and closer.
+++++
Tanya found herself awakened at 3 AM by a massive crash. It sounded as if a freight train had just come through her house! Thoughts rapidly forming in her still sleepy mind, she imagined what it could be. A burglar? Natural disaster? Grabbing a nearby gun-shaped stick she had for self defense, she crawled out of bed and went out to explore.
Nothing down the hall. Kitchen, clear. Checking the front door she found it still locked and secured. Looking out onto the front porch, there was nothing out of the ordinary to be found out there. No car crash out on the street either. Hmm.
“Goldilocks, honey? Are you alright?” It was surprising that her fluffy hadn’t woken up during the ruckus. Stepping along the hallway to the doorway of the safe room, she gently opened the door and peeked inside.
The source of the noise was immediately obvious. Goldilocks wasn’t safely asleep under a bunch of blankets or even goofing off as she sometimes did. Instead, there were scraps of bloody fur and gouged-off bits of flesh all over the room. A single golden-furred leg was draped over the ceiling fan, the hoof languidly waving back and fourth. Leaning into the room, Tanya came to view a crater impacted in the wall which still had fun fluffy posters tacked to it. Pulverized organs, shards of bone, and bits of fur peeked out from within the hole created in the drywall.
++++
“Ewmo! Ewmo! WUB EWMO!” Completely held rapt by a Sesame Street video playing on his special fluffy laptop, Bubby waggled his front hooves above his head as his favorite character was on-screen. Bubby happened to be a morbidly obese Forever Foal, bright yellow fur with a blue mane and tail. A frilly blue bib with a cartoony firetruck stitched on the front was wound up against his neck, already coated with putrid white spit-up. Like most of his ilk, Bubby wore a big diaper. His was blue, had the words ‘BIG BOY’ stenciled on the back. Speaking of, he’d just taken a big boy shit. The room absolutely stank of it, but he wouldn’t start bellowing for mummah yet. Being on the ‘puter was far too important.
“Teehee…gamesies…” Clumsily using his hoof to navigate the touchpad, he clicked on one of the many simple ‘games’ on the site. Calling the one he was on a game was really stretching the definition as it consisted of simply navigating the cursor and clicking on random objects that characters would pop out from behind or make silly noises. This greatly excited him so he’d start bopping up and down on his bottom, rivulets of shit extruding out the sides of the diaper. Mummah wouldn’t like this but there was a rubber mat under him for a reason.
“Babbeh Bubby wub gamesies! SUUUUU FUN!” Hoof clicking down on the touchpad rapidly, he listened to sounds loop. It was so fast that Oscar the Grouch didn’t even have time to come out of the trashcan before the animation looped and sent him back inside. Drool formed at his mouth, his lips slapping together and making a ‘Pbbbttt!’ sound along with forming bubbles. The saliva tracked down his chin in long strands, splattering down against his bib.
Eventually all of this rapid clicking would cause the laptop to start acting up. Hasbio definitely wasn’t known for producing the highest quality of goods, especially not in the electronics department. First the screen flickered, freezing in place. No matter how many times he clicked his hooves down the funny things on screen wouldn’t happen. Then with a crackle, the laptop showed a plain blue screen with white text overlaid on top.
“Babbeh Bubby nee’ gamesies! Nu wike meanie ‘puteh!” Pitching himself backwards, the incredibly fat Forever Foal began wailing at the top of his lungs and kicking his back hooves around in a bit. Whether he had developed them due to the strange hormones all forever foals had to ingest or because of his weight, he had massive tits. There was no other way to describe it: The fatass retard had developed juglike teats that would put a milk mare to shame. These grotesque things flapped and jiggled around as he threw a tantrum on the floor.
“Mummah! MUMMAH! REEEEE! EEEEEEE! BABBEH ‘PUTEH NU WOWK!” All of this activity was enough to tear his diaper off. Feeling frustrated enough to get up into a sitting position (actually quite a feat considering his rippling obesity), he’d stamp his hooves down in the poopies and plap it all over the place.
“Take stinky poopies! Huuhuuhuu! EEEEEE!” Having covered the entire around immediately around him in a muck of feces, he went to shove a hoof into his mouth for the gratification of suckling on it. Forgetting this was covered in shit, he got a mouthful of it and went right to being on his back again.
“NU WIKE BA’ POOPIES!” Where was mummah? NEED MUMMAH! He was so frustrated that a stream of peepees started trickling out of him before bursting out into the air, arcing, then falling directly on his stupid face. Bubby could hear mummah coming down the hall finally. Her good boy was covered in peepees and poopies, this was all her fault but he’d forgive her because she was mummah.
Mummah was a woman just about as plump as he was, in her thirties. Shoulder length hair dyed purple, always wearing shirts with funny pictures on them. She worked at home so she always had time for her Bubby. Scooping him up, the women didn’t seem to mind the poopies smeared all over the fluffy. “Wub yew, mummah. Teehee. Babbeh wub.” Cooing and wiping his face all over one of her doughy arms, he’d be brought to the kitchen sink to get washed off with special bubbly shampoo that smelled like bubblegum.
Once rinsed off and well dried, he got brought back into his safe room where a cushy new diaper was awaiting. Having it tugged onto him, he gave mummah a whimsical smile and farted for all of her efforts. There was a bottle already being warmed for him, so she’d gave and fetch it.
Bubby eyed the bottle greedily and latched onto the rubber nipple when presented with it. Lots of miwkies went streaming down his gullet and into his belly, everything was starting to look up now.
“Bubby wub ‘puteh.” He told mummah, fussing around slightly as he was brought back to the changing table.
“I know, honey.” Mummah told him in a loving voice, getting out a flask of cream which was collected along her fingers. This was massaged directly onto his teats, those tending to get chapped. Giggling and kicking his back legs around before mummah lifted him back up, he got brought over to a little crib and placed down into it. Well, she tried anyways.
“Bubby. It’s time for bed. No more huggies, OK?” Told to him in a soothing voice.
“Buh buh buh.” The forever foal couldn’t get his words out. Mummah stood there patiently with him.
“Mmm?” Rocking him in place. Pitching forward, Bubby covered her entire shoulder in a slurry of stinking formula.
That was all he wanted to do. Placed down into his crib and covered with a plush blanket with monster trucks on the front, he yawned and quickly went to bed.
+++++
Bubby gasped, he was in dreamland! An abstract thing for every fluffy but especially forever foals. In reality he couldn’t walk but in dreams he could. Actually, it was more like floating along the ground. Like an invisible human was carrying him!
Tonight he found himself on Sesame Street. Just like on his ‘puteh! Yay! Bumping into stuff, he pushed squeaky hooves against objects to see if they made funny noises. They didn’t. Well, where was everyone? All of his ‘puteh fwends?
“Hewwo? Babbeh Bubby am hewe. Huuhuu…nu wike awone…” A curl of wind brought a bunch of leaves down the street. The sound of it scared him enough to scream!
Just then, a nearby door opened. From within came his BESTEST ‘puteh fwend. It was Elmo! Walking out and opening his arms to invite Bubby over. Drifting over to the big red figure, he cuddled up into his arms. This Elmo was a lot bigger than the one on the ‘puteh but Bubby didn’t care.
“Hewwo! Teehee Ewmo fwend! Wub! Am widdew Bubby babbeh!” There was something off about this. Elmo wasn’t talking. Or blinking. Just staring down at him. Feeling uneasy, the fluffy struggled a bit. A furry red arm snagged against his midsection and kept him pinned in place. Elmo’s freehand went to…NUUUUU! ELMO’S HEAD! Elmo’s head came right off! Underneath was a very scary man with wrinkly flesh and a big mean smile.
“EWMO! EWMO COME BACKSIES! HUUUHUUU NUUU!” It turned out that even in his dreams, he could shit himself. Because he most definitely did then and there. Holding Bubby at arms length as he carried him into the shop he’d exited from, the munstah man let the fluffy view his surroundings. It was a dingy Internet cafe with computers that may have been top of the line in 2002, the entire place stinking of cigarettes and unwashed middle eastern men.
“Heard you like computers.” The munstah man told Bubby, who was crying and struggling around.
“…” Bubby looked down to the floor and sniffled. “Wub ‘puteh.”
Going over to one of the yellowed computer monitors, the meanie munstah man lifted an Elmo-costume clad foot and booted it against Bubby’s diaper covered ass. With a wail, the fluffy disappeared face-first into the screen, said screen rippling like water as it swallowed him up. Another kick sent him all the way into cyberspace.
“You wouldn’t download a fluffy.” The munstah man would say to a one man audience, cackling.
++++++++++
Glancing around his surroundings, Bubby found this place to be odd. Even for a dream. In one direction he could see outside to the Internet cafe, the munstah man having taken a seat and sipping from a cup of coffee.
“Hewp! HEWP BABBEH! NU WIKE!” Hooves slapped up against a pane of glass, but it didn’t matter. Munstah man wasn’t paying attention. Giving a small ‘huu’, Bubby turned back to the rest of the world.
This was seriously confusing. Most of the world consisted of words which, of course, he couldn’t understand. Hallways upon hallways of nothing but text which wrapped around him. A physical space that he could explore further and further down.
There were a series of doors on all sides of him as he ventured into this place. A dark, scawy building. Curiously going to one of the doors, he nudged his way into the room. Above the door of his choice were the words ‘INDUSTRIAL ABUSE’ written in fine font.
Upon entering the room, Bubby found himself subject to…many things. Snapshots of realities playing out all around him like in a movie. Watching in horror, he found himself subjected to a line of mares chained up to walls. Covered in poopies, their weggies missing. All of them were crying as chirpies nursed from their distended teats.
“EEEEE!” The sound caused the scenario in front of him to change. Now it portrayed a factory floor in which a mare was being held over a massive meat grinder, forced to watch as her deceased chirpies were fed into a maelstrom of rending blades.
Bubby departed the room quickly, or attempted to. The exit was blocked, the fluffy finding himself with more doors instead of the hallway he’d come in from. Not wanting to see anymore of this, he nudged a random door open. The tag above this one was labeled ‘Genital abuse’.
“Huuhuu…nuuu…” Taking a breath, it took a moment before the ‘movies’ in this place began playing all around him. Fluffies getting kicked directly in their wumps, or having their nu-nus caught in buwnies. Why!? Fwuffies were for HUGGIES AND WUB! Not huwties! It seemed as if the fear would cause Bubby to pass out (despite dreaming), so his tormentor decided to take control of the situation. A blinking hand dragged over Bubby, snagged down into his fur.
“Nuuu! Weab fwuffy awone! Hewp, mummah! Nu wan meanies!” Looking to the glass pane that seperated this world from that, Bubby could only watch helplessly as the munstah man manipulated him through cyberspace. A massive mailbox was sat in front of the fluffy, popping open to reveal darkness within.
“Munstah man! Nu put babbeh in dawky pwace! Scawdies!” Bubby pleaded, hoping he could be heard.
Stroking his burnt chin, the munstah man gave a chuckle. “Don’t worry, bitch. My good pal Fwuffysadist666 will know just what to do with you. They love Forever Foals!”
This caused Bubby to regain some composure. Hiccup, coo. “O-Otay. Wub F…Fwuffy…sabist…6.”
Bubby faced the darkness as bravely as he could, descending into the mailbox slowly. Even though he was mummah’s biggest babbeh boy, he still screamed as the lid closed on him.
+++++++
“Buuuuuubbbyyy! Miwkies for my BABY!” Livia announced loudly as she stomped down the hall to the nursery where her biggest boy was kept. A bottle of formula was in one hand, burping blanket slung over her shoulder.
Upon entering the safe room, the middle-aged weirdo found that the crib was empty. Where….? How….? Panic set through her heart. Bubby couldn’t climb, let alone walk! Where WAS he!?
“Oh my God! A fluffynapper! MY BABBBYYYY!” She howled, going for her phone. The cops were what she needed. They needed to get here right away and save her cutesy-wutesy widdew BOY RIGHT NOW. Before she could do that, though, her attention was drawn to the floor.
The bulky, craptastic laptop that her precious angel loved so much had a site that she’d never seen before displayed on it. At that, the laptop had been completely messed up last night and she hadn’t reset it yet. Was this a clue? Had the kidnapper left some kind of ransom or something?
Getting down to her knees, Livia examined the monitor. Fluffy-community? Oh! That was it! A community of fluffy lovers, so naturally one of those BASTARDS were jealous and had stolen her baby. Scrolling down, she first saw a name. ‘Fwuffysadist666’. Well, that was a stupid name in her book. Going down further though?
There was her Bubby. It was definitely him, she could recognize him anywhere. Yet this wasn’t a photograph: It was a piece of ‘art’. What had they used for this, Microsoft Paint? Her scruples over art quality aside, though, that was her Forever Foal. The picture showed a filled diaper (the same kind he always wore) strapped over his face with a leather belt, a grotesque amount of shit spilling out over the sides. Bubby’s massive teats (which she always jokingly referred to as ‘Bubby’s Boobies’) were sliced off his body with an irregular cut, as if the attacked had done so with a blunt knife or saw. Gaping wounds were all that remained of his bosom, a puddle of blood formed on the ground underneath him. The fluffy’s eyes were held forward in a frozen death stare, and she knew those eyes anywhere. Her baby. Her precious…little…itsy bitsy….
“OH MY GOD!” Taking out her phone, Livia quickly searched for a number and dialed it up. Several agonizing moments passed before someone picked up on the other side.
“CYBER POLICE!? They TOOK MY BABY! And some guy with a pizza head wrote THE N-WORD below the evidence!”
++++++++
Three families from the cul-de-sac on Oak St were meeting together at a McDonald’s in town. Suzy Tillman, a rather nervous and fidgety young blonde woman. Donald Shipman, a rather stern looking middle-aged man with a tan and stocky muscles from working construction. The Smiths…who looked quite a lot alike, both possessing thick-rimmed glasses and matching sweaters showing off their pink & purple show mare, Fleur.
After taking a bite out of a Big Mac that demolished half of it in one go, Donald stretched out and gave a massive belch. “Alright, you three. I’m gonna lay it all on you: We got a dream demon on our street.”
Straightening up on her uncomfortable chair, Suzy wrinkled her nose. “P-Please! I know what you said over the phone, but…demons aren’t real.” Rubbing her hands together with a worried expression, she muttered slightly.
The Smiths looked between one another, back to Donald. This all sounded insane but how could they let harm befall their Fleur?
“Yeah, yeah. Suzy: One fluffy in our neighborhood hit it’s safe room wall going an estimated 130 MPH and another went to cyberspace then got killed by some edgy teen. I think we got ourselves a dream demon.” These words from the gruff construction worker got Suzy to stop muttering to herself, straighten up.
“And….? So what can we do!?” By now Annette Smith had grabbed up a decorative plush of her fluffy, squeezing it against her chest in like a good-luck charm.
Taking a massive sip from his cup of Coke, Donald rocked forward against the table and looked at all those present.
“Well, I’m pretty sure it’s that dude named Fred Cougar. You remember Fred right? That guy with those creepy finger puppets?” They all remembered. Of course they did. Their neighbor who had burned alive in a housefire. The man had been a hugboxer but apparently one of those Foal Heat Regulated Mummah Beds had caught fire in his place one day.
“Fred?” Annette shook her head. “He was a hugboxer!”
Giving a roll of his eyes, Donald rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “The man leaned out his window and EXPLICITLY SAID he’d be coming back for every fluffy on the street.”
A nervous laugh from Suzy. “Oh. Yeah Uhmm…he did. Before the roof collapsed on him.”
Hubert Smith waggled around a Mcnugget slathered in barbecue sauce. “And!? What’ll we do!? Suggestions for action!?” The Mcnugget was shoved into his mouth angrily.
Right. Action. A nod, roll of his shoulders. Donald had three ideas.
“Well, we could pump our fluffies up with coffee and caffeine pills. Though then they’d shit all over our carpets.” There was murmuring, the group quickly agreeing they wouldn’t allow that.
“Or just let ‘em die. I mean, fluffies cost a quarter.” This drew a squeal of indignation from the Smiths who went on about how THEIR fluffy was the belle of the ball. Donald let them continue for a moment before cutting off.
“Lastly? The fluffies could battle Cougar in the dream world. Fred was kinda a bitch while alive. Watched a bluejay chase him inside once.”
Debating hotly commenced between the group. What to do, what to do…three fluffies
were at risk and they needed to come to a conclusion before it was too late.
- The fluffies fight back!
- Fred Cougar gets his revenge, bitch
You are, my fire…