Clint woke up to the sound of knocking. It was light, but it was still a knock, which confused him, as he knew he told his fluffies to never come up the stairs. As Clint opened the door, he was surprised to see Oingo of all Fluffies panting like a dog after the small climb up the stairs.
“D-daddeh! haff F-fwuffy h-hab haff fwuff, Oingo nee’ pway mowe… haff Fwuffy habbin babbehs in s-sowwy-wome!”
Clint’s face went blank. Had… Had he forgotten to close the door? AGAIN?! Clint, still quiet and expressionless, scooped up Oingo and brought him down the stairs.
Clint noticed the a small blur of movement as something pulled away from the frame of the sorry-room… It’s door wide open.
“Fuck. Me.” Clint said, moving over to the Safe-Room and gently setting Oingo down inside.
“Daddeh? Am otay? Meanie-wowd mean dat Daddeh nu am otay… Wite?” Oingo asked, turning to see his Daddeh, still cold and expressionless.
“Yeah Oingo… I’ll help the Fluffies in the Sorry-Room… Don’t worry.” Clint replied, closing the door, and shaking the handle to make sure it was actually FUCKING closed.
After making sure the door was close, Clint turned to see Trent standing in the doorway of the Sorry-Room.
“peep… T-twent a-am sowwy m-munsta-mistah chiwp… N-nu g-gib huwties… peep p-pwease?”
Clint looked down at the young foal, and contemplated the worst. Just anything to cause this little fucking thing pain. Maybe he could just rip him in half? Maybe, pin him down to a piece of wood and let him float upside down in the sink? Maybe-
“Huuuuuuuuuuu!!! B-babbehs cumin! N-nu cum ou’ hewe! Nu a-am sabe!”
Maybe… He didn’t need to do anything at all…
Clint walked over Trent, who instinctively curled up into a ball, and made his way over to Puff, who was straining over by the far corner of the Sorry-Room.
The treats that Clint had given to Trent and to Puff were a little thing he picked up off of Etsy, they were aphrodisiac treats, Well, one was, the other was the same, but also had a solid pound of cilantro in it.
As Clint made his presence known to the struggling mother, Puff finally relented against the pain and let her tummy babies out. To Clint’s surprise, he actually heard chirps, as he was fully expecting a mass abortion. As Clint looked behind the tired mare, his expression changed from emotionless, to absolute joy.
There was three of them, a small brood, but what made them interesting was that they weren’t developed enough.
One had a pinkish color, and was missing three legs, another had a Gold coloring to it’s coat and was unnaturally curled into a strange position, it’s spine looking contorted and strange.
The last one was… Normal. At least on the outside. As Clint went to pick up the somewhat regular foal, the baby shrieked in pain as the skin where Clint had grabbed him ripped and flaked away, exposing his stomach to the air of the Sorry-Room.
Puff struggled to turn, to meet her new babies, but as her eyes met the horrific scene, she began to cry, and hide behind her hooves.
“Well… Looks like you are a very bad Mom. Look at all these bad Babies!” Clint said, dragging Puff’s head out from her hoofs, forcing her to face her slowly dying foals.
“Huu-huu!!! Nu wan! Nu wan babbehs tu h-hab huwties!” She cried, trashing around in Clint’s vice-like grip.
“Well, I’m, sorry Puff, but not even my hoomin magics can save these lil guys. In fact, I don’t think i can even bring back Marty for such a Bad Mom!” Clint lied, pushing Puff close enough to the foals just far away enough to not reach them.
“B-buh, Mista p-pwomised!”
“That’s true! I did, but I can only do so much! But… I do have an idea, one that might just bring Marty back!” Clint reassured the mare, not really of course, Puff was freaking the fuck out, and the words really didn’t do much. But the prospect of getting one of her babies back after this was just enough to pull her attention away from the foals to realize she was moving away from them, their peeps slowly dying out (literally) as Puff was placed down onto the ground.
“M-mummah?”
Puff’s attention was caught by Trent, who was pretty much grinding along the floor, flinching as he was just grinding on cold flooring.
“You see Puff, I think Trent can help us bring Marty back! But he has to do something… not so good…”
Puff looked back to Clint, who now wore a sad face to cover the absolute hilarity of the scenario.
“W-wha B-babbeh h-hab tu du?” Puff asked, still tired from the recent birth of her fucked up monster kids.
“Well… I think Trent has to give you Tummy-Babies…”
The idea crushed any idea of hope Puff had, her small glint of hope, seen only through a small smile she had along her face, had melted into pure fear.
“B-buh b-babbeh am… Babbeh a-am… J-jus’ a babbeh! Nu spose’ tu hab speshuw h-huggies! Speshuwwy’ nu wiff o-own mummah!” Puff cried, her muzzle was beginning to dampen through the tears that were beginning to mat down her fluff.
“Well think about it Puff! He’s your Baby! And all Babies are good babies right? Well if Marty is a good Baby, he’ll come back in the form of Tummy Babies! He’d get a brand new life! He’d grow up to play, to run and to have as much Sketti as he wanted! He couldn’t do that this life because…?” Clint explained, hoping Puff was actually dumb enough to believe this lie he had made of of the top of his head.
“C-cus’ M-mawty w-was bad b-babbeh?”
“That’s right! See you are a good Mom! Those Monster Babies were just confused, that’s all! Trust me Puff, I Promise This will work! And it will only happen once! After all, Trent is a good Baby, and you want good babies right?” Clint continued explaining, scooping up Trent and Puff with a hand each, setting them onto the metal workbench.
“W-weww…”
“Listen Puff, how about this-” Clint asked, getting close to Puff. “I know this wont be fun for you, but think of it this way! Trent gets to share a very special moment with his own Mom! He’s always loved you and no matter what, he’ll always be your baby. And after this, you can get Marty back! You get to enjoy all the time he would have missed out on for being a bad Baby!”
“D-dat… Dat am… M-mista d-du m-make fing soun’ g-gud… Buh Puff nu knyo…” Puff said, laying down, still tiredafter pushing out three ugly fuckers outta her.
“M-mummah? T-twen’ p-pwomise t-tu c-chiwp hewp! W-wan Bwuddah backsies t-tu! N-nu wan tu make M-mummah peep s-sadies! A-am stiww B-beste’s speep M-mummah!”
If this were any other scenario, Clint would have been pretty proud of a lil’ guy wanting to help his mother out…
But this was incest so Clint had to hide the fact he wanted to vomit.
“A-am Daddeh s-suwe d-dis w-wiww bwing back B-bad B-babbeh?”
Clint swallowed the throw-up in his mouth and nodded sweetly, not wanting to ruin the… tender moment this mother and son were sharing.
“W-weww… O-otay.”
“G-good job guys! Now… G-get to uh… it… I’ll just uh… leave you two alone…” Clint said, congratulating the two in their decision to keep it in the family.
Clint closed the door of the sorry-room, jiggled the door a bit before being satisfied enough to think it was closed, then proceeded to run up the stairs of his house, make a B-line to the bathroom, and proceeded to vomit in and over his toilet.
“Sug?” Donna asked, now being awoken by the sudden rushing and vomiting of her husband. “You okay?”
Clint held to the rim of the bowl for another moment, making sure he wasn’t about to vomit all over Donna.
“I uh… I don’t… I don’t know how but-” Clint started, holding his breath for a moment as he felt a second surge coming up.
“- I don’t know how but. I got Trent to agree to knocking up Puff.”
“Jesus Christ, Clint.-”
“I KNOW I DIDN’T THINK THEY’D AGREE TO IT!”
“-What did you think was going to happen? You pumped em both up with horny-treats remember?”
“I KNOW BUT-”
“Okay stop yelling now Sug, or your sleeping on the couch…”
“-I know but i just thought they’d like. I don’t know, try to fight it and then i could punish them for fucking… Well for Fucking!”
“Yeah well, have fun with that mess Sug, im going back to bed.” Donna said, ending the conversation. "And brush your teeth before coming back to bed, I dont wanna smell all that"
“… Okay Honeybun.”
