Big bitch in Little Miracles - Non-cannon Brutal Version (Story Concept, Art, and Characters by: Gal-with-pastels) (Written by: GreaverBlade

Part 1: Tapping at the door
Saturdays were usually busy at Little Miracles. People were off work, and a fluffy adopted on Saturday has a Sunday to play with its new family before life starts to interfere again. But today was one of those rare slow Saturdays. Dee Dee didn’t mind. Running Little Miracles was tiring. She had founded the shelter only a little over a year ago. She’d finished her education at the local community college, with a degree in business administration. Dee Dee didn’t really feel the need to continue with school. She had a dream and she was going to grab it. That being said, her dream could be absolutely exhausting.

Dee Dee Bixby, an attractive African American woman, 21 years old. Her passion was fluffies. Specifically, the unloved fluffies of the world. The “poopie fluffies”, the outcasts, the soon-mummahs with nowhere to go. Little Miracles was a mix of shelter, store, and sanctuary. Dee Dee took in the cast offs, worked hard to heal them physcially and mentally, and help them find homes. Dee Dee learned early in life that being judged for your color or appearance was a harsh reality, and she was going to do everything she could to ensure fluffies didn’t have to suffer that sort of treatment.

Little Miracles had quickly earned a reputation for having the very best of the “worst” fluffies. Dee Dee learned quickly that there were a lot of people out there that liked the unpopular colors. Outdoor adventurers like earth colored fluffies that could come with them on hikes or hunts or fishing trips, where their colors would blend in to the natural environment. It helped them to have a “wild” companion to keep them company. Dark green fluffies were popular with military enthusiasts. More than one dark green fluffy had left Little Miracles named “Genewaw” or “Sawgent”. Most of her buyers were simply people like her, who simply didn’t care about a fluffy’s color, and just wanted a friend. Somebody they could talk to, who needed them, and would love them unconditionally.

Dee Dee was idling reading a book behind the front desk of Little Miracles when she heard a tapping at the front door. She set her book down, opened the door, and immediately looked down. Humans would have just walked in. Only fluffies tapped to be let in.

“Hewwo nice wady! Soon-mummah heaw dis safe pwace fo’ fwuffies!”

Dee Dee smiled at the very pregnate mare on her doorstep. “This is a safe place, little friend! Do you need a place for your babies to be born?”

“Yus! Fwuffy hab no pwace fo’ babbehs. Nu nummies, nu toysies, nu spewshul-fwend to hewp fwuffy. Pwease nice wady, wet fwuffy stay!”

Dee Dee was not in the business of turning away pregnant mares. The last thing she wanted was for this one to give birth in the wild and have to watch her babies die. Or even worse, the innate hate in fluffies for “poopies” and “munstahs” take over, and the mother give “sowwy-hoofies” to the “bad babbehs”.

“Of course, miss, you can stay here. Let me take you in and help you get comfortable. Upsies!”

The chunky mare rocked back on to her hind legs, extended her forelegs and let Dee Dee lift her from the ground. “Yay! Gud upsies!”

Dee Dee cradled the mare in her arms and carried her back to the safe room, where her resident fluffies were playing.

Paprika, Mustard, and their adopted can-foal Cloudberry were playing with blocks in the safe room. “Hey you three, we have a new guest!”

The two parents and their child scurried over to the door to meet thier owner. “This new fluffy is a soon-mummah and she needs our help. Are you three ready to help her with her babies when they arrive?”

Paprika and Mustards eyes lit up at the prospect of new babies. Mustart had been fixed after his second littler with Paprika, and Cloudberry had joined the family when they wanted to have more babies. Cloudberry was the baby that was going to stay with them. They were happy their first two litters had gone to good homes, but they realized they wanted a family of their own. And any chance to help another family was a special treat for them.

“Papwika wub babbehs! Papwika wiww hewp soon-mummah!” “Mustawd wub babbehs, too! Mustawd nu can hab babbeh, but Mustawd wiww show ‘ou babbeh how be smawt an’ stwong!”

“Cwowdbewwy wiww pwaw wif babbehs! Cwowdbewwy wub nu fwends!”

Dee Dee gently set the pregnant mare down on the floor inside the safe room, and gave her a pat on the head. “Now, ma’am. There are a few rules around here for fluffies. Especially for soon-mummahs. First, always make good-poopies in the litterbox. Second, always eat the food you are given. There’s a lot of fluffies here, and we have to feed them all. The regular meal is kibble in milk. Third, when the babies arrive, you will take care of all of them. There’s no bested-babbeh, all babies are good babies. They all get milky, even if they are poopy or have wings and horns. Do you understand?”

“Fwuffy unna’stan nice wady! Fwuffy wiww wub all fwuffy babbehs!”

“That’s good to hear.” Dee Dee replied. “Now, we can’t just keep calling you ‘ma’am’ or ‘fluffy’ or ‘soon mummah’. We need to give you a name.”

“Fwuffy gets namsies?!” The mare was elated! She was going to get a name! She was going to be special!

“Yes, I think I’ll call you…”

Part 2: New Names, New Circumstances

“Georgia! You have lovely orangey-pink fluff and look like a peach. So, Georgia it is.”

“Geowjuh wub nu namsie! Wub nice wady!” The pregnant mare, now Georiga, was positively beaming.

“Well, Georia, why don’t you spend some time with Paprika, Mustard, and Cloudy. I’ll be back in a few hours with kibble for everybody.”

The four fluffies let out little cheers at the thought of more playtime and food. Dee Dee returned the the front counter. For a slow Saturday, this wasn’t bad at all.

Paprika, Mustard, and Cloudy returned to the stack of blocks they were playing with before Georigas arrive and plopped down on their rears on their rears. They had left an open space for Georgia to join them. The very pregnant mare waddled her way over, and decided to rest on her belly.

“Whewe Geowjuh come fwom?”, mustard asked. “Geowjuh gonna hab wots of babbehs! Di’ Geowjuh hab gud speciaw fwend?”

Georgia scowled at the question, but quickly shook it away and resumeed a neutral expression. “Geowjuh nu mowe hab hewd, nu mowe hab speshul fwend. Dey meanies to Geowjuh. Gib sowwy-poopies. Twy gib sowwy hoovsies. Geowjuh wun away, an’ wook fo’ nu famiwy.”

Paprika and Mustard looked horrified. Their upbringing could be politely called unpleasant, having both come from very bad parents.

“Papwika sowwy, Geowjuh. Papwika hab heawt huwties for Geowjuh.” “Fwuffies pway wif bwokies. Fowget abou’ heawt huwties.”, Mustart stated. He was determined that Georgia was going to be happy here.

The four fluffies played with the blocks for a good hour or so, before Paprika and Mustard decided it was time for a cuddle-nap. The two parents cuddled up on their warm fluffy bed, nuzzling and cooing to each other as they fell asleep.

Cloudberry looked at Georgia. “Mummah and daddeh need nappies. But Cwoudy wiww pway wif Geowjuh. Cwoudy am babbeh! Geowjuh weawn how pway wif babbehs!”

Georgia’s eyes went wide. “NU!”, she nearly screamed. “Nu… Geowjuh am… sweepy. Muns-Cwoudy nice babbeh, bu’ Geowjuh gon take nappie.”

Georgia hoisted herself up on her stubby legs, her belly just above the floor, and waddled in to a corner. She turns a few circles before laying down, distinctly looking away from Cloudberry.

Cloudberry was confused. Georgia seems frighted of her. But Cloudberry was only a little baby; she wasn’t scary at all. Cloudberry decided to pay it no mind, and went to cuddle up with her parents.

A few hours later, Dee Dee gently knocked on the door frame to wake up the napping fluffies. “Kibble time, everybody!” She pulled a steel cart, laden with pet bowls full of kibble in milk. She put four bows down in the middle of the safe room. The fluffies scampered, or waddles in Georgia’s case and started to eat.

Georgia took a few mouthfuls, downing them, but with a frown after each swallow. Paprika looked at her, “Nummies nu good? Miwkie kibbew make stwong babbehs! Nu gud as sketties, but stiww nummies.” Georgia looked down at the bowl, her eyes narrowing. “Geowjuh nu vewy hungwy. Tummeh babbehs nu want mo’ nummies. Geowjuh wiww pway wif toysies.” With that, she waddled off to play with a ball.

“Geowjuh nu hungwy? Tummeh babbehs awways hungwy. Need nummies fo’ best miwkies.” Paprika whispered to her mate and daugther.

“Geowjuh get scawdies when Cwoudy wan’ teach 'bout pwaying wif babbehs.”, Cloudy quietly replied.

Mustard sat in silence, his brow furroed. “Mustawd keep see-pwaces on Geowjuh. Mustawd hab… suspwishuns.”

The next morning, Dee Dee completed her feeding rounds again. Mustard, Paprika, and Cloudy eagerly devoured their milky-kibble. Georgia unhurridly moseyed over and ate a few mouthfuls. She then rested on her belly, and pushed the bowl away. “Bad nummies. Nu good fo’ tummeh babbehs. Babbahs need sketties. Nu kibble, nu gwassies, nu veggies. Onwy sketties.”

Paprika, Mustard, and Cloudberry looked at each other, and then at Georgia. “Bu’ Geowjuh”, Paprika said, “Miwkie kibble gud fo’ tummeh babbehs. Gwow up big an’ stwong. Need fo’ make bested miwkies.”

Georgia snorted. “Miwkie kibbles taste wike poopies. Nu gud for Geowjuh tummeh babbehs. Geowjuh onwy wan’ sketties fo’ tummeh babbehs!” With that, she reached out her front hooves and flipped the milky-kibble bowl over. Milk and mushy bits went flying everywhere, the puddle spreading around it, and starting to soak in to Georgia’s orange-pink fluff.

“Geowjuh bein’ dummeh!”, Mustard shouted. “Deh Deh bwing gud nummies. Gib Geowjuh safe pwace. Why Geogjuh bein’ dummeh?”

Dee Dee heard Mustard’s raised voice and returned to the safe room. “Mustard, what has got you so upset?”, she asked. Then looking down, she saw a pouting Georgia on the floor. Her lower fluff damp, and her bowl of kibble scattered.

Dee Dee’s eyes narrowed, and she squatted down next to Georgia. “Miss Georgia, is there a problem with your meal?”

“Geowjuh nu wan’ miwkie kibbles. Yucky. Want sketties. Wan’ bested nummies fo’ bestest babbehs!”

Dee Dee scrunched her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose. She turned to her staff-fluffies. “Do you three know what brought this on?”

“Nu mummah”, Paprika replied. “Fwuffies pway wif Geowjuh, den take nappies.”

Cloudberry chimed in “Geowjuh get scawdy when Cwoudy wan’ pway wif Geowjuh. Geowjuh gib biggest NU!”

“Mebbe Geowjuh hab wots of scawdies. Mustawd ask Geowjuh 'bout hewd. Geowjuh get angwies and saddies. Geowjuh say hewd give sowwy-poopies and sowwy-hoovsies.”

Dee Dee returned her gaze to Georgia. “Georgia, why did your herd give you sorry poopies?”

Georgia puffed her cheeks. “Dummeh hewd nu gib Geowjuh bestest nummies fo’ tummeh babbehs. Geowjuh teww hewd dat hewd am dummehs! Hewd twy make Geowjuh nummie gwassies. Nu wook for sketties for Geowjuh tummeh babbehs.”

Dee Dee scrunched her eyes again. Wonderful. An entitled heavily pregnant mare.

“Georgia, when you arrived, I gave you three very simple rules. One of them was that you don’t complain about the food.”

“Geowjuh nu cawe. Geowjuh wan’ sketties fo’ tummeh babbehs. Am soon mummah. Dummey Deh Deh gib Geowjuh sketties.”

Dee Dee’s eyebrows went up at that one. “Oh, I’m a dummy, am I? Well, that’s really bad news for you.” Dee Dee grabbed the towl from the food cart and sopped up all the milk. She flipped the food bowl back upright and then wrung the milk in to the bowl. She then scooped the kibble off the floor and deposited it back into the bowl as well.

“You see Georgia, I’m just too dummy to make sketties. All I know how to do is put kibble and milk in a bowl. So that’s all you are going to get.”

“Dummeh make sketties now!” Georgia shrieked.

Dee Dee grabbed Georgia by her scruff. “BAD UPSIES!”, she wailed.

Dee Dee held Georgia at eye level. “You are going to eat your kibble and milk, or you are going to starve. And if you starve, your tummy babies starve. And if your tummy babies starve, they go forever-sleepies, and you go from soon-mummah to never-mummah. Is that clear?”

Georgia shrunk back as much as she could in Dee Dee’s grip, and whimpered. “Geowjuh wiww nummie miwkie-kibbews.” she said meekly.

Dee Dee carefully placed Georgia back on the floord in front of the food bowl. She wanted to drop the little monster, but that put the babies at risk. Georgia might be awful, but that was no reason to punish her babies.

“After you are done eating, I’ll be taking you to a private room. Where you can… rest while we wait for the babies.” Dee Dee’s look made it clear that arguing this point was going to have consequences. Georgia simply nodded.

Little Miracles, despite its name, was a decently sized facility. Federal grant money had helped Dee Dee open up much larger than she’d initially planned. The government saw value in the work she did at helping control feral populations, and in driving the “adopt, don’t shop” movement. Dee Dee carted Georgia to a separate safe room down the hallway from the one where the staff-fluffies lived.

Dee Dee sat on the floor with her fluffies. “I’m worried about that one when the foals arrived. Her shouting at Cloudy made me even more worried. And her attitude! When the babies come, I’m going to need the three of you to help me watch out of them and keep them safe in case Georgia mistreats any of them.”

“Yes, mummah!”, the three fluffies said together.

Part 3: Babbehs

“BIGGESt POOPIES!”

Georgia was screaming in her safe room. It had been a few days since the kibble incident, and Georgia’s behavior was tolerable. She sulked, but ate in silence.

Dee Dee came rushing to the safe room. Carrying a tub of hot water, towels draped over her arm, and the three staff fluffies trotting behind her.

Dee Dee waited for the major bowel movement that usually proceeded birth. After Georgia finished emptying herself, Dee Dee carefully moved the mare away from her waste and pull on a pair of glove.

“Your babies are coming Georgia, it’s time to work hard for them.”

“Geowjuh spewshul pwace hurty! Babbehs come out fastah!”

The first foal emerged from Georgia’s special place. Dee Dee caugh it, and gave it a quick wipe down with a wet towel. She layed a dry towel next to her and laid the newborn foal on it. She resumed her work at Georgia’s rear, helping ease each baby out, and giving it a quick clean. Georgia would give the babies licks to clean then, but the placental fluid could give babies a “bad smeww” and Dee Dee didn’t want the mare to reject any babies over it.

All told, Georgia delivered five babies; a bright blue female alicorn, a walnut gray-brown male earthie, a yellow female pegasus, a red female earthie, and a peach-colored male unicorn.

Dee Dee slid the towel with the newborn foals to Georgia’s front end so she could clean them. In the meantime, Dee Dee worked at cleaning up Georgia’s fecal spray.

Out of the corner of her eye, Dee Dee saw Mustard charge across the room towards Georgia. She watched as he raised his hoof and smack Georgia across the face.

"NU! BAD MUMMAH!”, Mustard shouted. “NU HUWT BABBEHS!”

Dee Dee scooted across the floor to see what was going on. Georgia was staring daggers at mustard. Georgia had only cleaned the peach-colored baby, the other four still covered in traces of afterbirth.

Dee Dee looked at Mustard. “What’s going on, buddy? What did she do?”

“Bad mummah twy gib bad hoovsies to babbehs! Twy gib fowebbah sweepies to wingy howny baby!”

Dee Dee glared at Georgia, her anger absolutely smoldering in her eyes. “What do you think you are doing?!”

“Geowjuh no wan’ bad babbehs! Nu wan’ poopie babbeh. Nu wan’ munstah babbeh! Giv fowebbah sweepies. Gib wub to bestest babbeh!”

“Georgia, I swear by all that is holy. When I took you in, I told you that you were to love and care for all of your babies. You will stop this, now, or I will throw you out the front door, and Paprika will become your babies’ mother!”

Georgia looked at Dee Dee, then to Paprika, and then to her babies. She settled down on her belly, and begrudgingly started to lick clean the mahagony foal. “Geowjuh gib wickie cwean to babbehs. Geowjuh wiww gib wub to babbehs.” She clearly didn’t like the idea, but at least made a show of taking care of the ‘poopie baby’. Dee Dee didn’t leave the room until Georgia finished cleaning all five babies, and provided them all with milk.

“That’s better. I will let you rest for the rest of the night. But if I come back tomorrow and you hurt any of the babies, you lose all of them. And if you have killed any of them, I will do the same to you.”

Georgia’s eyes bugged at that. She whimpered a little, before curling around all five babies in a small fluff pile at her teats.

Part 4: More Names, More Suspicions

Dee Dee returned the next day to see all five babies alive, and all five looked like they had been fed. She brought Georgia a large bowl of kibble-milk, this extra fortified. The last thing Dee Dee wanted to deal with was malnourisheed foals.

“Georgia, do you understand why all babies are good babies?”

Georgia looked away, and didn’t reply. She let the foals continue to suckle on her teats.

“All babies are good babies, because all babies can be good fluffies. These babies were just born. They can learn. They can make somebody happy. Colors and horns and wings don’t matter. You should love your babies. Your babies all love you! Take care of them, and they will always give you love and hugs.”

Georgia looked at Dee Dee, and then away again. She sighed to herself. Eventually the babies had their fill of milk, and Georgia ate her kibble in silence.

The next day the babies started chirping. Five chirpies at once make an impressive amount of noise. Dee Dee made sure to check in on them regularly to make sure all the chirps were happy chirps. Satisfied that they were being fed, and not being stepped on, Dee Dee went about her day.

After a week, the babies’ eyes were open, and they were able to scoot around a little. Another week, and they were talking, asking for “miwkies fwom mummah”.

Three weeks in, the babies were walking around and playing with each other. Dee Dee noticed that the peach baby was easily the biggest of the the five. The read earthie and the yellow pegasus looked average. The blue alicorn and the walnut earthie were notably smaller. Dee Dee knew that Georgia was feeding the babies. She’d been checking and watching. But she was still worried. She fetched Mr. Bear.

Mr. Bear looked like a normal plush bear. But Mr. Bear was special. Mr. Bear was a cleverly disguised digital camera. Strange devices would make Georgia suspicious. A new toy up on a shelf was not something that would worry her. She even introduced Mr. Bear to the foals and let them know he was here to watch over them and keep them safe. The foals liked Mr. Bear.

Dee Dee sat down with the foals. “I have more good news! It’s time to give you all names!”

The foals, huddled around her, gasped. “Nice wady gib babbehs namsies?”, the blue alicorn asked. “Yes! Let’s get started.” Dee Dee gave the female blue alicorn gentle scratches behind her ears. “You’re first little lady. I’m going to call you Ciela.” The little alicorn clapped her hooves together. “Ciewa wub nu namsies!”

Next came the walnut earthie. “You are going to be called Timber. You are colored like a strong walnut tree, and I think you are going to be a strong fluffy.” “Fank ‘ou for namsies! Timbuw wiw get stwong fo’ mummah!”

Dee Dee picked up the pegasus. “I’m going to call you Nova. When you do little dancies and put your hooves and wings out, you look like a star burst.” Nova was so excited she couldn’t even speak.

The little read earthy looked up at Dee Dee, expectation written all over her face. “You are a sensible little fluffy. So I want to give you a sensible name. I’m going to call you Beatrice.” “Fank ‘ou! Beatwice wiw twe be sensibwe fwuffy. Bu’ wha’ means senibew?”

Dee Dee chuckled at Beatrice. “Don’t worry, honey. You’ll understand when you are older.”

“Fwuffy tuwn nao!” The peach foal was giddy to get his name. Dee Dee swallowed, not really excited for this one. She looked down at the fluffy and finally decided. “Ok, your name will be Peach Cobbler but we’ll just go with Cobbler.” The unicorn was ecstactic. He not only had a name, he had two! “Cobbawa wub namsies! Babbeh get two namsies! Babbeh hab biggest heawt happies!”

Dee Dee rolled her eyes, and gave an awkward smile. “That’s great dear. Now you all play nice for Mr. Bear.”

A couple days later, Dee Dee returned to the safe room with a laptop under her arm. She smiled at Georgia and the babies. “Georgia, would you and your foals like to watch TV?”

The foals all started cheering. The peach baby ran up to Dee Dee. 'Bestest babbeh wub teebee!" Dee Dee’s smile tightened. She expected this, but it didn’t make her any less furious.

Dee Dee set the laptop down, and tapped the play button on the screen. The video started and Georgia and her foals were excited to see themselves on the screen. They watched as they played with blocks, and balls. And they watched as they went to feed. And they watched as Georgia gave the alicorn the littlest of milk to keep them alive, before shoving them away. They watched as Georgia told them “Miwkies am fo bestest babbeh. Munstah babbeh an’ poopie babbeh onwy hab wittwe miwkies su nu fowebbah sweepies. Udda babbehs hab miwkies, but bested babbeh hab mostest miwkies.”

By this point, Georgia was no longer watching the video. She was watching Dee Dee’s smile transform from tight and toothy to a feral snarl.

Dee Dee closed the laptop and set it behind her in the hallway. “Georgia, I thought we had come to an understanding.”

“Geowjuh gib miwkies! Babbehs aww get miwkies!” She was starting to look afraid. She knew she had disobeyed, and was making a futile effort to defend herself.

“Georgia, I told you there’s to be no best babies. There’s to be no preferential treatment. There’s to be no neglecting your other babies. And you didn’t listen. And now you are going to be punished.”

Dee Dee gathered the foals and carefully moved them to the side of the room. “Sit here, babies. Dee Dee needs to teach your mummah a lesson.”

Georgia looked from her foals to Dee Dee, and back. She couldn’t decide if she should run to them, or try to hide in a corner. Dee Dee reached around the door frame and grabbed her sorry-stick. Georgia finally made up her mind and ran to a corner to hide.

“Georgia, you have disrespected this house, you have disrpected me, and worst of all, you have shown contempt for your babies. This is your final warning.”

With the word “warning”, Dee Dee whipped the sorry stick on to Georgia’s flank. She let out a shrill “SCREEE!”. Her foals watched in terror and fascination and Dee Dee whipped Georgia on her sides, her rump, and her back. Dee Dee liked Fluffies. But she had no time for bitch mares. What she did have was a deft hand with a sorry stick. Dee Dee used a broad headed switch, as she wanted Georgia in a bruised-agony, not bleeding all over the safe room. Contusions and welts would be her reminders.

After a dozen lashes with the sorry stick, Dee Dee set it back outside the safe room. Georgia was weeping in the corner. “Hu hu hu… wowstest huwties. Babbehs hewp mummah! Hu hu hu…”

Dee Dee squatted down in front of the foals. “I need you to understand that your mummah was being a bad mummah. She was hurting you”, she said, pointing to the alicorn and the walnut earthie, “and that’s something I will not tolerate. I wanted you to see what happens to bad fluffies. I want you to learn from this.”

Dee Dee then carefully scooped up Timber and Ciela. “I’m sorry to the rest of you, but I can’t trust Georgia with these two. They will be staying with Paprika, Mustard, and Cloudberry from now on. I will do my best to make sure you have play time together, though.”

The three foals left on the floor were staring up at her, tears in their eyes. They seemed to understand.

Dee Dee carried the two fluffy foals down the hall to the staff-fluffy safe room and sat down. Paprika, Mustard, and Cloudberry walked over to her.

“Mustawd huwd scweamies. Deh Deh hab teach Geowjuh a wesson?”

Dee Dee sighed. “Yes, Mustard, I did. I’m sorry you three had to hear it. Worse, I still don’t think these two can be around her. I don’t think it’s safe for them.” She held out the two small foals for the other fluffies to see. They had not met the family before, and they stared in amazement.

Paprika’s eyes lit up. “Deh Deh wan’ Papwika be mummah fo’ babbehs? Papwika gib babbehs wub an’ miwkies?”

“That’s right girl, you get to be their mummah now. Georgia is unfit. I know you will trea them right. I know all of you will tream them like family.”

Paprika was over the mooon. Though she couldn’t have babies any more with Mustard, she adored being a foster mummuh. She was a regular for fluffy weaning at Little Miracles, and she’d helped bring many abandoned foals into good health with her milk.

Mustard was beaming beside her. He was happy to have new babies to protect, he liked being a daddeh, even if he knew that the foals would eventually be adopted away. He was proud he could help raise strong babies that would find good homes.

Cloudberry was dancing on her hind legs. “Cwowdbewwy am big sistaw!”

With that settled, Dee Dee went to look in on Georgia and her other two foals. Georgia was still softly crying in the corner, obviously still in a lot of pain. Her remaining three foals were nuzzling up to her. “Nu cwy mummah! Nu hab saddies! Huggies wiww make huwties go away!” They proceeded to give her their biggest hugs. The ‘bestest’ baby was hugging her face, and crying along with her.

Dee Dee continued down the hall, checking the various safe rooms, and calming any fluffies frightened by Georgia’s screams. As she went about her duties, Dee Dee thought to herself, “Only a few weeks before the foals can be put up for adoption. Then this whole mess can end. I can toss Georgia out on her ass in the woods and she can find herself a feral herd to take her in.”

Part 5: Crimes

Nearly three weeks later, and the foals were all growing nicely. They were healthy, full of energy, and happy. Georgia’s ‘bestest’ was still the largest of her five children, but Dee Dee had been watching the videos and Georgia was giving the other two foals almost as much milk as the ‘bestest’. She decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

Cobbler was bored. Blockies just weren’t enough for him anymore. The ball had lost its shine. He needed something new.

“Cobbawa am ecspwoin’ babbeh!” He started shoving the blocks, one at a time, across the safe room. He carefully stacked two blocks atop one another, right up against the low wall that blocked the way out of the safe room. He stacked another block in front of those, creating a rudimentry staircase. He made his way up to the top and looked down. He was much higher up than he had anticipated.

“Ecspwowin’ babbeh nu scawdies!” He declared. Georgia noticed him shivvering atop the pile of blocks and trotted over to him.

“Bestest babbeh smawt, but nu wan’ Cobbawa hab huwties.”

Then she stopped, and listened. She heard fluffies laughing. Not just any fluffies. She heard the laugh of her monster baby, and the poopie baby. And she heard Paprika, Mustard, and that monster Cloudberry. Then she heard something that made her fluffy blood boil. It was the monster baby. “Fank ‘ou fo’ sketties Deh Deh! Ciewa wub sketties! Wub mummah Papwika! Wub daddeh Mustawd! Web Timbuw bwuddah, an’ wub Cwoudy sistah!”

Those horrible babies and that awful family were getting sketties! She had been forced to eat nothing but that horrid milkie-kibble. Georgia was furious!

She carefully lifted her peach-colored baby in her teeth and set him on her back. “Mummah an’ bestest babbeh gon’ go ‘spwowin. Gon’ hab sketties!”

Cobbler started clapping his tiny hooves together, and cheered. Nova and Beatice ran to their mother’s side.

“Sketties fo’ babbehs?!”, they asked in unison. “Nu babbehs. ‘ou smaww babbehs, nu hab sketties. Gib tummeh huwties. Mummah hab sketties fo’ big best miwkies! Bestest babbeh am big babbeh. Bestest habe sketties, bestest be stwong!”

The other two foals looked disappointed, but didn’t complain. Sketties was best, but bestest milkies was also good. They stood aside as Georgia nudged the blocks to give herself an easy step out of the safe room. She watched and waited until she was sure Dee Dee was out of the room, and she made her way over the barrier.

Georgia made her way down the hall to the safe room she’d first been brought to when she arrived at Little Miracles. The staff-fluffies had no wall to block them in. They were trusted, and were sometimes needed in a hurry to help calm other fluffies. They could go in and out as they pleased, but being good fluffies, they stayed put until they were called.

Georgia, the bestest Cobbler still on her back, walked in to the room, her eyes wide in anger.

The monster baby and the the poopie baby were nearly as big as her bestest baby. They were feeding from Paprika, but looked as though they would no longer need to very soon.

Georgia puffed her cheecks and stomped her hooves. The fluffies hadn’t noticed her come in yet, but they all stared at her as she stormed into their safe room.

“Wai poopie mawe gib miwkies to munstah babbeh an’ poopie babbeh! Bad babbehs onwy hab fowebbah sweepies!”

Mustard bristled at the insult to his mate. “Geowjah bad fwuffie. Geowjuh go ‘way. Nu wan’ Geowjah hewe.”

Paprika looked at Georgia in shock. “Aww babbehs am gud babbehs. Aww babbeh hab best miwkies! Papwika wub aww babbehs!”

Georgia was snorting with rage. “WAI POOPIE FAMIWY HAB SKETTIES AN’ GEOwJAW NU HAB SKETTIES! WAN’ SKETTIES FO’ BESTEST BABBEH!”

Bestest stood up on her back “Cobbawa wan’ sketties. Gib bestest sketties nao!”

Georgia lifted Cobbler off her back, puffed her cheeks, and rushed at Paprika and the foals feeding from her. Mustard reacted instantly, putting himself between Georgia and his mate. She smashed into his side and they both tumbled over.

Cobbler let out a piercing “SCRRE!” and made his own charge at Cloudberry. He was nearly as big as she was, but this was mostly due to his gorging on milk, and he was a slow-moving peach-colored ball of fat. “FOWEBBAH SWEEPIES FO’ CWOUDY MUNSTAH!” he screached as he slowly charged at her. Cloudberry stepped aside and gently pushed against Cobbler’s flank. He tipped over and rolled on to his back. His rotund body nearly spherical, he was unable to right himself. “Hewp mummah! Cobbawa am stuck!”

Georgia had her own problems. Mustard was bigger than her. Although her impact on his side had knocked the wind from him, he was up, facing her, and looking absolutely incensed.

“Dummeh Geowjuh twy huwt Mustawd famiwy! Hatechu! Mustawd give wostest hoofsies!” Mustard came at Georgia, and landed a hoof on top of her head. She was dazed and backed off, trying to shake away to dizzyness. Mustard was walking back and forth in front of her, slowly coming closer, and forcing her back from the terrified Paprika and the babies.

“The FUCK is going on in here?!” Dee Dee was standing in the doorway. She stared down at the fluffy carnage on the floor.

Paprika was sobbing. “Meanie Geowjuh twy huwt famiwy! Twy huwt wiwwle babbehs!”

Mustard was still glaring at Georgia. “Geowjuh twy gib Papwika sowwy hoofsies. Geowjuh say Papwika am poopie mummah.”

“Cwoudy fink bestest twy huwt Cwoudy. Cwoudy stwong! Gib bestest sowwy hoofsies!”

Dee Dee looked down at the fat foal rolling on his back, unable to right himself. She looked at Georgia, bristling her fluff, hate in her eyes. She turned to Mustard. “Good work, Mustard. I’ll take care of it from here. You go help Paprika. Cloudy, I’m very proud of you, standing up for yourself.”

Dee Dee walked in to the room, and stood above Georgia. There was no fake smile this time. Dee Dee’s mouth was a tight line. She looked over her shouder to the family of fluffies huddled in the other side of the room. “I’m sorry about this, guys, but it needs to be done and I’ll clean it up.”

While Dee Dee was turned, Georgia tried to run to her bestest baby. Dee Dee was much faster. She grabbed Georgia by the scruff, and hugged her to her chest, her stumpy legs sticking out around Dee Dee’s arms, way from her captor. Then Dee Dee gave her a squeeze.

“OWWIE POOPIES!” Georgia wailed. Dee Dee wasn’t going to give this little bitch the opportunity to try sorry poopies on her. She was taking control now. A few good squeezes would solve the problem. Once Georgia seemed to be empty of shit and piss, Dee Dee held her at eye level. “I told you that was your last warning. Now you will pay the consequences. You and that little lump of fat you call your bestest baby.”

“Nu gib Geowjuh bad upsies! Nu huwt bestest babbeh!” Georgia was screaching in pain. Dee Dee gave her a swift slap across the face to shut her up. Georgia started sobbing. That was better.

Georgia was held in one hand by her scruff, Dee Dee picked up Cobbler from the floor with her other hand. She deposited both in to a sorry box in the hallway, and made her way down to the basement. She had things to prepare.

Part 6: And Punishments

Georgia couldn’t move. Her legs were splayed out to her sides and clamped firmly in place. “I imagine that’s not very comfortable. That’s sort of the idea.” Dee Dee spoke without looking at Georgia. “I welcomed you in, I had three very simple rules. I have cared for thousands of fluffies here. I take in the feral mares with babies. I take in the ‘poopies’ that shitty mothers like you cast away. I help them find homes. But sometimes, I fail. And I let a piece of garbage like you in.”

Dee Dee walked to another part of the room, and Georgia could see her bestest baby in front of her. He was in a sorry box, but one you could see through!

“Nu put Cobbawa in sowwy bawksie! Gib Geowjuh bestest babbeh!”, Georgia demanded. Dee Dee snorted and chuckled to herself.

“Georgia, I like fluffies. I really do. But I’m only human, with a human’s faults. And sometimes, a human’s cruelty.”

Dee Dee stood in front of Georgia and set a cup on some strange smelling goop next to her. She then reached behind Georgia, where she couldn’t see. Strapped flat, she couldn’t turn her head behind her.

“Now, Georgia, I want to warn you that this may sting a bit.” Dee Dee pulled the swing-arm blade down, and severed both of Georgia’s left legs in a single motion. She then scooped some of the goop out of the cup and smeared it on the wounds. “That will stop you bleading out, though you may still go in to shock.”

Georgia was screaming. “WOWSTEST HUWTIES! SCREE! SCREE! DUMMEH DEH DEH HUWT GEOWJUH! SCREE! BESTEST BABBEH HEWP MUMMAH!”

Once Dee Dee stepped aside, the bestest baby saw the mutilation done to his mother and started screaming as well. “NU! MEANIE WADY GIB MUMMAH HUWTIES!”

Dee Dee slid the rack upon which Georgia was strapped to the left, and brough the cutter arm down again. More screaming. More goop on the wounds.

“I know that stuff stings, but it will keep you alive, and stop any infection. You’re a pillow now.”

“BAD WADY GIB GEOWJUH WEGGIES! NU TAKE WEGGIES!” The bestest baby was screaming, too. “GIB MUMMAH BACK WEGGIES! NEED WEGGIES FO’ HUGGIES!”

Dee Dee looked at Georgia, held up a bio-waste bin, and dropped her leggies in, one at a time, directly in front of her face.

Dee Dee slid a litter box behind Georgia, and then shoved a feeding tub in her mouth, roughly taping it in place. “I don’t want you to starve, but I’m not going to be down here again until tomorrow. I need to give you time to scab over and prepare for what’s next.”

Dee Dee walked over the the fish tank containing the bestest baby. “So, you like miwkies? Bestest baby gets all the miwkies?”

“Dummeh wady am dummeh! Cobbawa am bestest, get aww bestest miwkies!”

“Right. Well, first, you name is no longer Cobbler. Your name is Little Fat Fuck. Second, I’m going to give you all the miwkies you could want!”, Dee Dee replied.

“Dummeh wady gib Wiwwiw Faf Fuwk miwkie, and gib mummah. Nu huwties!”, the fat fluffy said, starting up at her from his glass prison.

“Well, I can’t promise not to hurt you. Or her. In fact, I can pretty much promise the opposite. But I do promise to give you milkies, so let’s do that first.”

She grabbed the peach foal, and shoved a feeding tube in his mouth, and like his mother, taped it in place. She then flipped him over and squeezed his anus and testicles. He started squirming and squealing in her hand, but he was too weak to even hope to break loose. The foals anus puckered and Dee Dee took a hot glue gun and shoved it inside. Pulling the trigger to eject the glue, she withdrew the glue glun and left a nice blob on the outside, forming a plug on each end. She also made sure some of the hot glue dripped on his testes for good measure.

By this point, Little Fat Fuck had passed out. Dee Dee set him back in the fish tank, and turned the valve on the feeding tubes for both fluffies. Thick milkie-kibble mush would stream through the tubes as they ate the bits that dribbled out the ends. Dee Dee left the basement, Georgia staring in horror at her abused baby in front of her. Out of reach forever.

Dee Dee returned the next day, carrying a bag of items under one arm. She pulled them out and set them next to Georgia. A mirror, a plastic bottle, some towels.

“Georgia, I made a mistake. I called you a pretty fluffy. I was very wrong. You are a bad, ugly fluffy. You are bad on the inside. I’m going to make you just as ugly on the outside.”

Dee Dee opened the plastic bottle, and the caustic smell made Georgia’s eyes water and her nose hurt. Dee Dee tied a bandana around her mouth and nose, and squeezed some of the gel from the plastic bottle onto one of the towels. She then started giving Georgia a vigourous rub.

At first the rubbing was nice. It felt like she was being petted all over. But then she started to feel burning. Her skin was burning. The pain was getting worse and worse. She started screaming, the feeding tube forced in her mouth muffling her cries.

Dee Dee pulled away the towel, and showed Georgia it was covered in gel and peach colored fluff. “You see Georgia, you don’t deserve this pretty fluff. So, I’m going to take it away.” Dee Dee applied more gel to another towel. More burning, more fluff came away. Finally, Dee Dee held up the mirror and let Georgia see her chemical burned, nearly fluffless body. Tear streaked down her face, both from the pain where her leggies used to be, the burns all over her body, and losing all her fluff.

Dee Dee looked down into the fish tank. “How’re you doing in there fucker? Enjoying the endless milk?”

Little Fat Fuck lay on his side, his stomache mildly distended. He was also crying. He tried to speak, but the tube in his mouth stopped any words coming out.

“Right, that’s all for today.” Dee Dee went back upstairs and left the fluffies to their suffering. Once the burning stopped on Georgia’s now-bare hide, she felt the cold of the basement, and cried all the more.

Dee Dee returned the next day. “Okay, we’re going to wrap this up today. Fucker, we’re starting with you.” Dee Dee unhooked the feeding tube at the other end from Little Fat Fucks mouth, and attached it to a different dispenser." “No more milkie-kibble for bestest baby. You get nothing but milk today.” Dee Dee turned the knob controlling the flow of milk. The tube went rigid with the pressure of the liquid passing through it. Bestest started bloating more and more. Georgia watched in horror, screaming through her feeding tube.

Finally, Little Fat Fuck burst. There was a dull ‘splurt’ sound, and the fish tank walls were painted with gore, feces, fluff, bits of kibble, and milk. “I’ll need to hose that out later.”

Georgia simply passed out at the sight of her bestest baby exploding. Dee Dee slapped her awake again, ripped the tape off her face, and pulled the feeding tube from Georgia’s mouth. “OK, Georgia. Go ahead. Say what I want to hear.”

"Georgia was weeping, coughing, and gagging all at once. Eventually she was able to catch her breath, and settled on quiet sobbing.

“Well? What do you have to say?”

“Wan’ die.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

“Wan die’. Wan die’. Wan die’.”

“Georgia I’m really sorry to disappoint you. But no. You don’t get to die. Not yet. You see I have a lot of fluffies to feed. You are going to help me do that for a while.”

Georgia didn’t even react. She just kept saying the same thing, over and over. “Wan die’. Wan die’. Wan’ die’.”

Georgia lasted three more weeks as a milkbag. Eventually the cold and stress to her system got to her and she died. She went out with trash pickup on a Tuesday morning.

Part 7: Hello Goodbye

The remaining two foals, Nova and Beatrice, were raised by Paprika for the next week along side their siblings Timber and Ciela. By the end of the week, they were weaned from the milk and could eat milkie-kibble on their own.

Paprika, Mustard, and Cloudy were sad that they had to leave the family, but they knew they were bound for good homes and that there would be more fluffies who needed their help. The foals only asked about Georgia once. “She and bestest were bad fluffies. They had to leave.” The foals didn’t bother asking again.

Within a month all four foals had been adopted to different homes.

Ciela went to a wealty family, her sale price helping fun Little Miracles. The little girl who took her home was over the moon. The little girl’s father was overjoyed to get his dauther an alicorn at below market price.

Timber went to an avid hiker. The hiker wanted a fluffy who could blend in to nature and not scare away wildlife. He also wanted a companion who would always ask questions about the outdoor world he loved so much.

Nova was adopted by a retired airline pilot. Though he no longer flew, he was happy to share his home with a little friend who was so excited about the sky. She love to watch him play flight simulators on his computer and would make the take off noises every time.

Beatrice was adopted by a young businesswoman who wanted a companion at home. Bea did end up a sensible fluffy. She understood her new mummah had to go to work so she could buy sketties for Beatrice. She always gave Beatrice big huggies when she came home, and Beatrice always listened attentively when her mummah vented about her work day. She didn’t understand any of it, but understood it made her mummah happy to talk to her.

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Good work!

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Aww… That’s cute. I wouldn’t mind a little fluffy co-pilot playing X-Plane.

Great story.

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Fixed.

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Very well written, though there are some typos and minor mistakes here and there. (For example: “Dee Dee went to look in on Georgia and her other two foals. Georgia was still softly crying in the corner, obviously still in a lot of pain. Her remaining three foals were nuzzling up her her.”)

I have to ask though, was that detailed torture scene really part of the story concept? It feels jarringly out-of-place to me, like having a sex scene in a kid’s movie. And everything Little Cobbler Fuck did was just following his mom or trusting her word on him being best, so with the emphasis on “any baby is a good baby” it’s weird he never got the chance to even try to be good.

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Double words is like my number one typo.

And yes! That was actually part of @Gal-with-pastels original concept.

Yeah, that was my thinking too. She should have just killed them and thrown them away in the trash like the broken things they were. The torture was unnecessary.

Quite a lot of business went on at this place too. In the first paragraphs it was stated that they had been open for a year, but Dee Dee later stated that she had helped thousands of fluffies. I would have expected that in a place open for maybe eight to ten years, not one.

Dee Dee ain’t fucking about

Never mistake kindness for weakness

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while i was talking with greaver about this , it was in fact my first story involving a bitch mare and a bestest baby. nor did i know how to execute a bestest baby / smarty being a little evil piece of shit. and all i knew was that i wanted the bitch mare to be tortured. Now i’ll say with all honesty that i’m not the best at making stories but i wanted to try between this lil collab.

Now wanna mention I my go off topic while explaining.

I wanted to try and keep it innocent while also utilizing some torture attributes from inspiration by @BFM101 .

I guess i didn’t think Through enough .

Dee Dee honestly loves all fluffies, Micro , aqua and normal colored . but when it comes to Bitch mares that discriminate they’re young she usually gives them a chance to redeem themselves some do and some don’t same things goes for smarty/ bestest baby foals. I guess something really about this mare really triggered something in her . and i wanna Assume that before georgia was part of her former herd she had an owner , that abandoned her because she wanted babies.

If you want i honestly would like to see you’re take on this story , and what you would change to make the Georgia Unredeemable and her bestest unredeemable.

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I also want to state that a dramatic tonal shift isn’t a bad thing in a story. I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it.

While not my cannon, while writing, I still have to build a world in my head. In the microcosm of the story, I stated and assumed a few things:
Dee Dee has helped a low thousands of fluffies in only about 18 months. Since opening her shelter/shop she’s been inundated with rejects and poopies from all over the country. This includes a lot of smarties and other unpleasant fluffies.

Dee Dee doesn’t have a dedicated torture room, but instead tools that any shop or rescue would have at her disposal. I picture the pillowing device as basically a swing-arm paper cutter, but larger, and the platform moves side to side to allow the removal of legs on both sides of the fluffy. This is just a tool available for both medically necessary amputations or pillowings. Same with the force feed system. Even terrible fluffies can be used and I figured that with many Fluffies Dee Dee has to process, that there’s going to be the irredeemable, and they may be force fed to accept kibble to adjust their attitutes, they may have non working mouths, or they may be so awful that they are turned in to milk bags so they can at least help others before they expire.

Trying to attack Dee Dee’s personal fluffies, effectively her local family, is what ultimately set her off. Bestest was an irredeemable little shit. The mare could at lest be useful. I imagine running a large fluffy shelter (as stated in the opening, a shelter that specifically takes the unwanted is a business that will get a lot of start up grants) will where on anybody. So take Dee Dee’s cruelty in my rendition as 18 months of frustration all coming out at once.

I have to say @Gal-with-pastels was a fantastic collaboration partner. She had an idea that got ~7900 works out of me, and let me write a pretty brutal abuse story. That’s something that I hadn’t known how to approach before, and am now much more comfortable executing (pun intended) upon. I hope do do more collab works with Gal, and anybody else in the community would likes my prose and wants their idea realized.

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I knew I was a bad influence

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this was awesome! Such great work :clap:

My take… I don’t think I can write a full story, but if I had to change some things…

  1. When taking the alicorn and poopie, what if Deedee had taken Cobbler too? It would make sense because it separates him from his mom, and thus serves both as a punishment for the mom (if you have a bestest it’s taken away) and a second chance for Cobbler (once no longer influenced by his mom, his own personality can shine through and he can unlearn her bad teachings).
  2. Despite being separated from his mom, Cobbler keeps acting out and being a brat, blaming the other two for him losing his mom, being rude and dismissive to his new adoptive parents, insisting he’s better than the other foals. While he won’t try to kill them, just show that he’s not receptive to change.
  3. Georgia, rather than flying into a rage over sketties (which are not mentioned to actually exist? Did she imagine that?) wants her bestest baby back. In fact Cobbler could help her get out, like in the current story, and tell her how much nicer the other fluffies have it compared to her. They both still attack the other fluffs, because they’re little buttheads and think Deedee will have no choice but to let them stay together in the big nice room if there’s nobody else around.
  4. Adjust the torture scene. The current equipment screams torture basement - the feeding/pooping tubes, strapping fluffs down, having a special machine for easy double amputation… It’s weird. Instead of a torture basement I’d suggest having a hospital room, for when someone comes in really badly injured, so it doesn’t only exist to be creepy and evil. Then you can just strap Georgia to the surgery table.
  5. Instead of force-feeding Cobbler and then blowing him up, just drown him. When the scene started, I thought what would happen was that Deedee would give him as much milk as he wanted … by setting the transparent box to slowly fill with milk. Then Georgia still gets a show, watching her baby’s slow doom as the liquid goes above his head. (Maybe use water instead of milk, to avoid wasting a bunch of resources…)
  6. The milkbag thing feels like a bad idea. I mean, this entire place is built on “love the unloved” hugboxiness, and you’re going to use industrial abuse to tend it? How’s that going to look to the customers? At that, since her foals are stated to be basically fully weaned, she’s going to need milk-boosting formula to even provide milk.
  7. Considering the above, I probably wouldn’t remove her legs - I just think it’s a boring and trite trope. Instead just stab through them so they’re paralyzed (less gruesome and messy), then milk her dry of whatever remaining milk she has and leave her to watch her baby drown for a while. Once you get back she’s probably either wishing for death or hoping for hugs and mercy, at which point Deedee can snap her neck.

It’d make the torture scene a lot softer, but it would keep it more in-line with the rest of the story without letting the two off easy, and give Cobbler his own sins to punish.

If you’re dead-set on using milkbags though, I do have an idea for making them fit better into this hugboxy setting:
Hide them inside plushies. A big fluffy teddybear with tits; the perfect fit for baby foals and nobody can tell it’s a front for abuse.

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thanks for the feed back

Some very excellent suggestions! I’m not likely to do a rewrite, but any future story by me will more than likely use the medical suite over the basement.

Blowing up Cobbler was a specific part of the story prompt. There’s a lot of ways to kill a fluffy.

i may ask your in a future collab to go softer in the abuse

Can do! I’d like to create a sort of writing circle for collaborative story telling. So we can bounce drafts and ideas off more people before publishing.

Honestly, leaving Cobbler in the box to starve for a while and then giving him enough milk to pop would also work. Just, something that doesn’t have the force-feeding tubes.

Regarding point #3.

By the time she got to the room, it can be assumed that Dee Dee had left the room to clean the now empty plates of spaghetti.

Discussing the details with @Gal-with-pastels. Thinking a version 2 of the story with some of the suggested changes. And some more world building based on suggestions from others.