Hey all, oldfag lurker and this is my first text story. Any criticisms are welcome, and thank you for reading!
**“BIGGEST POOPIES!” **
The chipmunk-pitched words screamed down an alleyway and onto a busy main Street, carried by the autumn wind. There, it joined a chorus of car horns, fluffspeak, and engine noises only to be drowned out by all three. For the pregnant yellow and pink-maned mare that has screamed the programmed phrase, the world only existed within the alley.
It was her first litter of “babbehs”, and she was doing it all alone. Her special friend hadnt been back in a few bright-times since setting off to find her some food. However, rather than her missing mate, the mares focus was solely on the pain she was going through.
Every muscle contracted; her bottom half experiencing an extreme pressure she had never felt before. It was only animal instinct that drove her to react, and this instinct told her to push.
*Plop *
A wet sound hit the ground, following by quiet, hoarse chirping.
*Plop, plop *
Two more excited the canal and began chirping with their older sibling
*Plop, plop *
A fourth and a fifth were evacuated from their mother, joining in on the song of their litter mates
The mare was exhausted; she had just pushed five (though to her it would be two and two and one) foals through her first pregnancy. Her mummah would be so proud to know that her Anabelle was such a good fluffy. She could still feel one more making it’s exit, and she began to push with all her might. As the final foals head began to exit her, it suddenly stopped. She pushed, and pushed, trying to force him through her, but the foal wouldn’t budge
“Please babbeh! Nu huwt mummah nu mowe huuhuu”
She grunted and groaned, sobbing from pain and begging anyone, *absolutely anyone * to help her babbeh leave her tummy. She tried one more push, and felt something pull apart in her backside. Screaming, she stopped and began sobbing; the foal was stuck.
That’s when he entered her field of vision.
Jacques had just heard her initial cry, signalling the beginning of labour. At first, he watched from the entrance of the alleyway, merely observing the miracle of foal-birth as she managed just fine. However this turn of events stirred him into action, plus one of the neighborhood kids was looking at him weird for watching, and he didn’t want to catch a bad reputation.
Jacque collapsed his slender, tall frame to match closer to the mare. He was used to approaching fluffies who weren’t experiencing difficulties with childbirth, so he led his entrance the only way he figured he could.
“Hey, are you okay honey?” The man’s low tenor called out to her
In between sobs she replied, “huuu, nu am Hunny, am Annabew- EEEEEEEEE”
She screamed as the foal at her backside threatened to tear her in two. She looked up at the man, with pleading eyes over her tear-stained cheek fluff and begged him
“Pwease hewp!”
Without another word, the man reached behind her and inspect the damage. What he saw nearly lost him his lunch; the foal that was stuck was more aptly described as a mutant. It’s head was cleared to it’s shoulders and poking through the opening, yet there was a third eye that he could make out, open and staring unflinchingly at him, set into the foals shoulder.
“Okay, I’m gonna pull your babbeh out, but this will hurt lots. Is that okay?”
“Yus, YUS! HUUU, jus’ puww babbeh out!”
He grabbed the foals head between index and thumb, and pulled. He could feel something pop as he pulled, and in one swift motion the entire mass exited her body. She screamed one final time, her hoarse voice beating on the man’s eardrums. He had no idea fluffies could get so loud, although he had also never seen a foal quite like… That.
He looked at the mares final offspring; it was clearly two foals that had merged at their backs, and both were alive. One wriggled independently of the other, pawing at nothing as they begged for the warmth of their mother.
The other, whom had produced the *pop * was still; he had separated the head from the spine, although the skin was undamaged. The foal was dead. The fine fuzz-like fluff that had covered their siblings was nowhere to be found on this pair, save for a tuft on either head. Quite frankly, he was disgusted with them; he dropped the pair in front of the now huffing and gasping mother.
Her eyes widened in shock at seeing the malformed abomination. The still living head craned towards her, while 4 of the stubby limbs writhed in desire for their mother. One twin had a horn, and the dead twin had wings. The living foal had an open, yellow clouded eye, and it started straight through Anabelle.
“EEEEEE, babbeh am m-munstah! Nu huwt gud babbehs!”
Responding to the stimuli of it’s mothers voice, it began crawling clumsily in her direction, dragging it’s dead Siamese twin with it. It smelled milk and mother, and desperately needed both. Anabelle immediately reared up from the two, and brought a good down on them. The living foal cried, and she simply brought another hoof down; then another, and another, and over again until the two were little more than bones and mincemeat. She huffed, puffed her cheeks, and sat back down in front of her babbehs.
Now her foals chirped in fear, sounding off like little bells that begged to be loved and fed. The man picked up the first one that caught his eye; a blue colt, and passed it to the delirious mare. Anabelle snapped out of it and began receiving the foals from the very helpful hoomin. One by one she licked them clean and placed them onto an available teat. In the process, it seemed she had completely forgotten about the mutant spawn she produced.
First was the blue colt; she deemed him a pretty baby, but not her favourite. He was fed first. *Good colours, actually, and quite well built too *, Jacques thought. He picked up the next slimy foal to present Anabelle.
Next was a pink filly with the beginning of a blue mane, tufted on the crowd of her porcine head. Another pretty baby, much better than the last. She was placed next to Blue, and together the pair sucked greedily. Anabelle was happy for the moment, but there were more foals to clean, and so she moved on.
Third was a grass green filly, whose colors prompted the mare to respond, “wub gwassies! Babbeh am su pwetty”. She knocked Blue aside, the foal giving a surprised and hurt peep, while she placed Grass on her newly freed nipple. Blue protested in hunger, attempting to climb back towards the teat. Anabelle giggled and softly pushed Blue back.
“Teehee~, siwwy babbeh, gwass nee’ miwkies tuu”, she said as she reached her hooves out to receive the next foal from Jacques.
Fourth was a chocolate brown colt, who the man actually thought was a very nice shade, almost like Easter chocolate. The mare didn’t appreciate this colour quite the same though.
“Am babbeh poopies?” She curiously sniffed the foal, accidentally stimulating the foals anus with her snout. With a peep it voided it’s bowels at the uncomfortable handling directly into her nostril, causing her to cock her head back in disgusting. “Babbeh **am ** poopies! Nu wan!”
Poopies was tossed unceremoniously to the side, closer to an old, caked pile of filth than to his siblings. It had landed roughly, peeping and squealing in pain from having broken both it’s forelegs from the impact. The Man couldn’t help but feel sorry for it in that state. Anabelle had moved on to inspect another foal, so while she was distracted he picked it up and dropped it into the shitpile, using his shoe to cover it’s head. Hopefully, a quick death from suffocation awaited it.
Last was a yellow foal; mane colours being an exact match for its mother. It was a yellow filly with a pink stripe- wait, a stripe? The man leaned in to confirm it’s pattern. That was a stripe indeed, not a mane. It carried little branches of pink away from the stripe, almost to resemble the veins on a leaf.
At first sight, the mare was smitten. It was the most beautiful baby she had ever seen. She immediately shooed both Grass and Pink away from her teats, knocking both over as they cried and peeped. She placed the yellow filly down in front of her and allowed it to choose from either teat, and as soon as it had, it latched on and began suckling greedily.
“Yu am bestest babbeh, mummah wub yu” the mare cooed as the foal fed.
None of the other foals had drunk quite to satiation yet. They all peeped for the warm embrace of their first feeding. One tried to close in on a free nipple, but the mare batted it away. The foal fell over backwards, an audible -snap- sounding off as it landed with a leg that was bent a little too far in the wrong direction. She didn’t care; as far as she was concerned, the babbeh was a milkie-thief, and nothing was going to steal the milk she *needed * to give to her bestest babbeh.
The man merely watched as she conducted herself unsurprisingly. Jacques was all-too familiar with fluffies and their favoritism among their children. It didn’t quite bother him on a moral level all that much, but it still wasn’t pleasant to witness. He thanked himself for having gotten involved though, as it made his goal for the day much easier. *Much easier *.
All he had to do now was ask a simple question.
“Hey, Anabelle, good job giving birth to your *babbehs *”, he said with a saccharine delight.
“Fank yu fo’ hewp, mistah”, she replied with a glowing smile. He had been so nice, she knew he would be a perfect hoomin to ask.
“Can be nyu daddeh fo’ fluffies and babbehs?” The mare asked, her smile never dropping at the bold question.
“Of course! I’ll give you guys lots of warmth, and we’ll make the best nummies together!”
“Yayyy! Fank yu nice mistah!” The mare cheered, happy that her gamble had paid off. She wasn’t perceptive enough to notice Jacques’ wording, nor than she was being fitted into a reusable shopping bag with her foals. She simply felt happy to be chosen, as her Hasbio creators had intended.
As the man left the alley, the now-dead brown foal, and the stomped mutant behind, his mind raced with excitement.
His viewers were gonna love this
