Discomfort [by Agent ASCI]

Life at the shelter was, as always, terribly boring.

Tulip was born and raised inside the confines of PonyHaven, a modest no-kill shelter housing around four dozen fluffy ponies of every stripe. Her mother was a stray, rescued from a life of depravation and depravity by a good samaritan after her special friend was killed, carrying nothing but a tummy full of foals. The dutiful volunteers of PonyHaven did all they could to see her pregnancy to term, but the strain of birth proved to be the last of many injuries the world would inflict upon her. Tulip and her siblings would never know their mother, but the shelter workers did their best to raise them by hand.

As far as fluffy shelters were concerned, PonyHaven was certainly no hellhole. There was always enough food, the staff were kind, and there was even a well-kept saferoom for the rescues to romp around in. Yet while they were content, no fluffy could ever be truly happy without a loving home to call their own. After all, it was in their nature as biotoys to be loved.

So it was that Tulip laid morose in her cage before lights out. From a litter of five, Tulip was the only one left behind at the shelter. It was through no fault of her own, really. Most adoptees left the shelter as foals, and it was just dumb luck that nobody decided to pick Tulip over her siblings when they were young.

Now she was a young filly, dimly aware she was not getting any younger. She had friends among the other fluffies, of course, but every time she’d see one who had been living at PonyHaven for years without being adopted, Tulip feared she would never know the loving embrace of a new mommy or daddy.

And so she would sulk more and more with each passing day, wanting nothing more than to be rescued from this life of tedium.

Tulip barely paid the shelter workers any mind as they did their last checkup before going home for the night, instead absently pawing the bedding of her cage with her hoof. She almost didn’t notice one of the workers, a young woman who was something called a “manager,” kneel down towards her cage’s opening and try and get her attention.

“Psst!” the manager whispered. “Tulip!”

“Hmm?” Tulip lifted her head slowly to meet the manager’s gaze.

“I’ve got good news for you Tulip,” she said. “You’re finally leaving tomorrow. Congratulations, you got a new daddy!”

Tulip slowly stood, struggling to register what she was hearing.

“Nyu
 Nyu daddeh!?”

The excitement had spread to the other cages, and soon the room was flooded by a commotion of tiny voices.

“Gasp! Tuwip ged nyu daddeh?”
“Yaay! Fwiend ged nyu housie!”
“Huuu
 Fwuffy wan’ nyu daddeh tu
”

Tulip could hardly believe it. Her fluff began to stand on end from the frisson and her eyes began to blur as tears of joy flowed freely for the first time in her young life.

“Tuwip gonna ged nyu daddeh? An housie? An toysies an sketties an- an- an-”

The manager smiled, paying no mind to her coworkers trying to calm the rest of the fluffies down around her. She simply reached a finger through the mesh of the cage and began stroking Tulip’s chin.

“Yep. We’re gonna be sad to see you go, honey, but we knew this day would happen. Tomorrow will be the first day of the rest of your life.”

Tulip was still buzzing with glee well after the lights went out. Curled up in a ball at the end of her cage, her mind raced with images of the life that awaited her once her new daddy took her away.

A new life of huggies and love.


Tulip stood at the center of the saferoom, eyeing the door nervously, hooves shuffling in place.

Her friends had all wished her fond farewell. More than a few of the older fluffies glared at her jealously throughout the day, but Tulip couldn’t care less about them. They weren’t getting a new daddy like she was. They’d grow old and grey within the walls of PonyHaven while Tulip actually lived her life to the fullest, just like a fluffy should.

The manager had told Tulip that her new daddy was due to arrive soon. That was several minutes ago, but for Tulip it may have well been an eternity of staring at that door, waiting for her savior to come through.

And then, there he was.

The door opened to reveal the manager discussing the last of the paperwork with a clean-shaven young man, who smiled and nodded as she led him into the saferoom. He wore a bright magenta polo shirt with a logo embroidered on the breast that read “FFC” in rainbow letters. The man looked down and saw Tulip staring in awe.

“Well, there she is!” he said, crouching down and spreading his arms. “You’re even prettier in person, Tulip!”

“Nyu daddeh! Nyu daddeh!” Tulip scrambled across the saferoom and up into his arms. She had gotten plenty of hugs from the shelter workers before, but this one filled her with an overwhelming sense of joy and belonging. This was it. This was what she had been waiting for her entire life.

“That’s right!” the man said, stroking her back. “My name’s Martin, and you’re gonna come and live with me now. Is that okay with you, Tulip?”

Tulip nodded frantically, biting back tears. “Yus! Wan nyu daddeh! Tuwip wub daddeh!”

The man, Martin, chuckled and looked up at the manager. “She’s definitely affectionate, huh? I guess you weren’t kidding when you said she’d be perfect for the job.”

The manager smiled, her posture shifting slightly. None of the fluffies could feel the awkward air that seemed to fill the saferoom now, least of all Tulip. But she had a job to do herself, after all.

“If you two are all set, I can take you out front and we can get you guys going.”

Martin stood, cradling Tulip in his arms. “Perfect. Let’s roll.”

Tulip gave one last wave to the rest of the shelter, who returned a mix of cheers, tears, and halfhearted whimpers as she was carried out the door and into the world.


The adoption process was wrapped up with a neat little bow not long after. Soon, Tulip found herself inside a carrying crate not unlike her cage. Her enthusiasm began to wane as she felt the carrier pitch and shift beneath her hooves, Martin placing her in the passenger seat of his truck.

She heard about these things before. Cars. Trucks. Buses. The humans used them to get around, and the shelter workers would complain about things like traffic or tickets or a million other things whenever they were discussed. As the truck shifted into gear and pulled out of the parking lot, all of the sound and motion made her stomach churn with a palpable unease.

Martin heard her whimper next to him.

“Tulip? You okay?”

Tulip nodded, not exactly realizing her new daddy couldn’t see her do so from inside the carrier.

“Tulip?”

“T-Tulip am otay daddeh
” She wanted to keep a brave face. The last thing she wanted was to ruin everything by being a scaredey baby.

“You sure? It’s okay to be a little nervous, Tulip.” Martin chuckled, placing his hand on the seat before the carrier’s door for her to see. It reassured her somewhat.

“Tuwip and daddeh go tu nyu housie?”

“Uh
 Yeah. Yeah, we’re driving there right now. Shouldn’t be more than a few minutes, tops.”

“
 wat’s a minute?”

Martin chuckled again. “It means we’ll be there soon. Say, how about I tell you about your ‘nyu housie’ while you wait? How’s that sound?”

Tulip perked up, curiosity nudging aside her current feelings of discomfort. “Otay!”

“You’re going to be living in a place called the Fluffy Fun Zone. It’s a place where fluffies go to have fun and enjoy themselves all day. Playing with toys and stuff. Dosen’t that sound cool?”

“Gasp! Tuwip hab housie wid udda fwuffies!?”

The possibility hadn’t even crossed her mind. A new house and new friends? Maybe even a special friend? Tulip couldn’t have imagined somehow being more excited about this fateful day, but there she was, giddy all over again.

“Well, yeah! You’ll be playing with lots of new friends. But most of the other fluffies will just be visiting. You’ll be working there with me, my coworkers, and a bunch of other fluffies that were rescued just like you.”

“Wowk? Wat am wowk?”

“It means you’ll have a very special job playing with other fluffies all day. And in exchange, you’ll get lots of food, a warm place to sleep, toys, all that stuff.”

The gears turned in Tulip’s tiny little head. Basic economic concepts, like the idea of a job, were surprisingly beyond the fluffy’s worldview. Again, Martin couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Tulip. You’ll see soon enough.”

“Otay daddeh! Tuwip gon’ be bestest at speshul job!”


“Alrighty!” Martin said, clapping his hands. “Here we are!”

As her new daddy raised her carrier from the passenger seat, Tulip saw her new home for the first time.

It was a huge building, far larger than PonyHaven. The storefront windows were covered in advertisements and vinyl details depicting joyous fluffies at play. A sign above the entrance read “FLUFFY FUN ZONE” in tall red letters.

For Tulip, she may as well have stood before the gates of Shambhala. She was in awe not just at the tantalizing sight before her, but the joyous existence therein that it promised.

“Am
 Am dis nyu housie?”

“Yup. Welcome home, kiddo.”

Tulip was pressed against the door to her carrier, gawking at the sheer scale of the place as Martin brought her into a large front lobby. There, a portly woman behind the front desk gave them a quick wave.

“Heya Marty. That the new mare?”

“Yup,” Marty said, not breaking his stride. “Gotta get her prepped and set up before opening.”

The woman snorted. “Well, you picked a heck of a first day for her! We’ve got a birthday party coming in an hour.”

“Yikes. All the more reason to hurry, then.”

Tulip was, of course, completely oblivious to the conversation. Instead, she continued to marvel at the sight of her new home. Somehow, it looked bigger on the inside!

Beyond the lobby was a saferoom, larger than anything Tulip could even fathom. And the toys! There were toys as far as her eyes could see, toys she didn’t even know the names of yet looked so wonderful she wanted to spring from her carrier and play with them right this instant. Music played over the PA system, a jaunty, saccharine tune that filled Tulip’s head with the wonderful image of dancie babies.

And for the first time in her life, she smelt the delicious scent of spaghetti waft through the air.

Tulip pressed herself against the carrier door, looking up to try and see her daddy.

“Daddeh! Daddeh! Can Tuwip ‘spwowe nyu housie? Wan pway wif toysies! An’ hab sketties! An’ make bestest dancies fo’ daddeh!”

Martin laughed. Unlike in the car, it came out as hollow, almost contemptuous.

“Yeah, don’t worry Tulip. You’ll have plenty of time for dancies and sketties later.”

He approached a door at the back of the saferoom, entering into a dimly lit hallway that ran along the building’s length. The music and smell of spaghetti quickly faded, much to Tulip’s dismay, as the door shut behind them.

“Before that, we need to check in with daddy’s friend. Just be a good fluffy and relax, okay?”

“Otay daddeh
”

Martin smiled. Shifting the carrier from one hand to the other, he backed himself through the door labeled “Prep Room,” letting it swing shut behind him.


“Yo Serge.”

At the back of the room, an old man rose from his desk to meet Martin. His skin was leathery, and the volume of his eyebrows were rivalled only by his moustache.

“Hello Martin,” he said, sneering at the carrier. “This the mare?”

“Yup. Name’s Tulip. Say hi to Serge, Tulip.”

Tulip felt something catch in her throat. Something about this room scared her. Maybe it was the harsh fluorescent light reflecting off the tile floor. Maybe it was the metal table in the room’s center, faintly stained by some pinkish fluid. Maybe it was the scary man glowering at her, his eyes shining with a level of contempt the sheltered fluffy had never been subjected to.

But she was a good fluffy. She needed to do as she was told.

“H-Hewwo nice mistah-”

“Yes, yes,” Serge waved dismissively. “We have work to do and little time to do it. Martin, if you’d please?”

Martin promptly placed the carrier on the metal table, unlatching the door and letting Tulip take a few pensive steps out of it. He tapped a spot at the table’s center. “Over here, Tulip,” he said impatiently.

Slowly, she waddle forward, keeping her head low. The pink stains on the table looked redder up close.

“Daddeh
 Tuwip nu wike dis- EEP!”

Martin grabbed Tulip by the scruff of her neck and dragged her to the center of the table. He pushed down, hard, until she lied flat on the table with her legs splayed. With his free hand, he reached for the leather straps nearby and began tying her down.

“Daddeh!? Nu wike dis game! Pwease no mowe-”

“Martin?” Serge yelled, rifling through a nearby shelf. “Did you not get the anesthetic I asked for?”

“
ah shit,” said Martin. “Sorry man, I was gonna grab it last night-”

“Feh. Forget it. We won’t need it. You will see.”

Tulip’s eyes darted back and forth, trying to catch a glimpse at the men surrounding her. Serge stepped into her periphery, holding a tarnished looking hacksaw.

“I will need you to hold her steady,” he said. “There will be screaming, shitting, all of that.”

“Wonderful.”

“Daddeh!?” Tulip whimpered. “F-Fwuffy wan’ go home nao! Gu back to shewtew!”

“Too late for that, I’m afraid,” Martin said, placing his hands firmly against Tulip’s back. “Serge?”

The old man grasped Tulip’s foreleg, nearly yanking it free of her shoulder as he stretched it out-

“Owies! Owies! P-P-Pwease nice mistah! N-N-Nu huwt-”

-and began to saw it off at the joint.

“SCREEE! SCREEEEE! SCREEEEEEEEE!”

Tulip wailed in agony as the saw’s teeth bore into her flesh. For a filly who had never known anything worse than a bump on the noggin during playtime, such pain was unfathomable. The two men went about the business with a casual disregard for her wordless screeching. To neither’s surprise, she voided her bowels.

The saw worked its way downwards, carving into muscle, ripping apart tendons, and tearing into nerves.

“REEEEEEEEE! REEEEEHEEEEHEEEEE! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Serge’s hand worked faster, tempo rising, until the entire leg was severed with a wet pop. Without hesitation, he lobbed the bloodied limb over his shoulder, where it landed somewhere behind him with a wet thud.

Tulip’s body was sapped of strength, reduced to spasming beneath Martin’s hands. Each breath of air seared her lungs, and the room had begun to sway just like inside the carrier. The horrible, piercing pain in her leg grew duller, but no less agonizing. She wriggled in place, her remaining legs struggling to gain purchase on the blood-slick table to no avail.

“Daddeh
” she gasped, barely able to think let alone form words. “T-Tuwip nu wan’
 nu wan’
”

“That is the first one,” said Serge as he crammed a wad of gauze against the bloody stump. “Now for the next. Then we can get to the spaying.”

Martin sighed. “Just hang in there, Tulip. We’re almost done.”

His words did little to comfort the filly as the backroom surgeon moved to the other side of the table, taking hold of her other leg. Her slow, delirious breathing began to regain its frantic edge.

“Nu
 Nuuu! Pweeaaase nuuuhuuhuuu! Tuwip be gud! Gud fo’ daddeh!”

Serge yanked the leg outwards, until he could see where the humerus met scapula.

“Tuwip be gud! Nebah ebah du bad ting ebah 'gain daddeh! Pwease!”

He parted her fluff with the saw’s teeth, making sure he got a good angle.

“SCREEE! Nuuu! Nuuuuuuuuuu! Daaaddeeeeeh!”

And then the cutting began again.

“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᎱᔉᔉᔉᔉᔉᔉᔉᔉᔉᔉᔉᔉᔉᔉᔉ-”

With a final, desperate scream, Tulip saw the world around her get dragged away into darkness.


“Waaaauuuuugggghhhhh
”

Tulip awoke in her daddy’s arms. For a moment, she let herself give into her fluffy instincts and relax in his warm embrace.

It wasn’t until she realized she couldn’t hug him back did she remember the nightmare she was in.

As she began struggling in his grip, Tulip began to feel strange new agonies tugging at her core from all over her body. Her forelegs were so cleanly hewn from her shoulders that there weren’t even stumps to mark their absence, only a pair of X-shaped scars crudely stapled shut, still red with inflammation. She felt a tightness down near her belly, where her flesh was opened up and sewn shut too tight. And where once her tail could be felt swishing behind her, it had been docked along with her front legs.

Tulip stared up at Martin and tried to speak-

“Guaaagggeegh? EEP!?”

-only to realize that her tongue was gone.

Martin looked down, giving a smile she would have found reassuring a few hours ago, but only filled Tulip with a sense of dread.

“Hey Tulip,” he quietly said. “You were a good fluffy back there. Very brave.”

“Buagh guaaaggeh-”

“Shh. It’s alright now. We had to take your ‘talkie place’ away for your new job, so no more ‘talkies,’ okay?”

Tulip gritted her teeth in terror and began to sob. Or dry heave. Or scream. Or maybe even all three at once. Martin held her tighter in any case, his embrace making it hard to anything other than tear up silently in his arms.

They were back out in the saferoom now. Unable to turn her head to see, Tulip could still hear a thin crowd of fluffies around her. Babbling conversation, the innocent laughter of foals, toys bouncing and squeaking, lips smacking as fluffies gorged themselves on spaghetti.

For some reason, all of these things made her cry even harder.

“Hey! Hey Marty!” a voice called out. “That my new mare?”

“Yup,” Martin replied. “Just got back from Serge. No forelegs, no ovaries, no tongue, no problemo.”

“Excellent. Mind giving me a hand settin’ up? We got a birthday party outside itching for action. All young bucks, lil’ bastards.”

“Ugh. Nasty.” Martin wrinkled his nose and shook his head. As he carried her forward, Tulip could see a sign on the wall above her, surrounded by pink and red hearts; “ROMP ROOM”.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” the other man laughed gruffly, “you try workin’ in the fuckpit all day. C’mon inside.”


The “Romp Room” was lit by a row of red, bare lightbulbs that ran along the ceiling. The room’s shadows were deep, filling Tulip with a sense of yawning terror. A rank, musty smell hit her nostrils. She remembered it from her time at the shelter, but dared not imagine what it was.

Martin and the gruff man kneeled down, giving Tulip a chance to view a strange looking item sitting on the floor before her. It was a cardboard box shaped like a wedge, resembling a large doorstop, its surface decorated with pink and red hearts just like the sign outside. Along the incline were velcro straps. The terrifying odor wafted off of it, rank and rancid.

“Strap 'er down,” the gruff man said, “while I plug 'er.”

“Gotcha.”

Martin laid Tulip along the incline of the box, face down towards the floor, rump raised upwards. “Guaagggeeh!” she whimpered as he began laying the straps across her back, fruitlessly trying to wriggle herself off of the device.

That was when Tulip noticed the other mares.

There were four others in total, all strapped down on the wedge-shaped boxes facing the back wall, maws tied down by the final strap. The mare nearest to the right of Tulip stared at her with pleading, tearful eyes, trying in vain to scream for help. The one to her left, an older mare by the look of her, instead laid near motionless, eyes lidded and vacuous. Both had clumps of fluff torn from their coats, revealing bruises both fresh and fading. Their underbellies were covered in half-healed sores, and the scars along their shoulders looked like they festered with infection.

“Gaaagghhhiiieeee! Gaaa- MMF!”

Before she could finish taking in this horrible sight, Martin wrenched her head downwards and tied her mouth shut with the final strap. It quickly set in that no matter how hard she whimpered, no matter how hard she tried to scream for help, Tulip was completely helpless.

“Strapped in?” the gruff man asked. “Good. Now fer the fun part.”

Tulip felt the man grab hold of her haunch. Before she could react, he quickly crammed a small blue cork into her anus.

“MMMFFFFFF!”

“Haha!” the man laughed. “There we go! Don’t want’cha shittin’ all over the birthday boy, do we? Ha!”

“You’re a real sicko, dude.”

“Again, you try workin’ in the fuckpit all day. See what that does to yer’ sense of humor.”

Tulip could barely understand what was being done to her. All she knew was that she was terrified and hurt all over. So she shut her eyes tight, imagining she was back in the shelter. A lifetime in her cage was better than this.

“Anyways,” the gruff man continued, “thanks fer’ the help Marty. Would’ya mind sendin’ in that birthday party on the way out? Lil’ fellas looked like they were ‘bout to try an’ ‘romp’ with the buildin’ blocks out there, hehe!”

“Yeah, sure man. I’ll catch you later then.”

Tulip winced as she heard her daddy walk away. As much as she feared him, the evil man who stole her leggies was still her daddy, and she wanted to beg him not to leave her alone in this place.

But there he went, voice fading in the distance as he called out to somebody.

And then came to pitter patter of hooves.

“Alrighty guys!” the gruff man called out. “Remember the rules! No hurtin’ the mares, no bad poopies, an’ above all
 be sure to wish lil’ Boomer here a happy birthday!”

The half dozen colts and stallions cheered, diving into an impromptu fluffpile in the doorway.

“Yaaay! Habby biwfday Boomaw!”
“Wub Boomaw! Boomaw am bestest fweind!”
“Yaaay! Ummm
 how time tiww speciaw huggies?”

“Tank’yo fwiends!” Boomer giggled. “Boomaw gun’ hab bestest birfday ebba!”

“Mmmf! Mmmmmmffffff!” Tulip tried to scream for help, begging these new friends to save her.

“Ha! Okay, okay, break it up fellas! Now, since Boomer’s the birthday boy, he gets his pick of the litter.”

“Yaaay! Boomaw pick witta!” he cheered. “
um, Boomaw nu nee’ make poopies nao doe?”

“Not that kinda’ litter, buddy. Pick yer’self a comfort mare and have fun.”

“Gasp! Boomaw pick comfy mawe! Gon’ gib best speciaw huggies!”

Tulip’s blood ran cold.

Boomer began trotting from mare to mare, giving each of them a thorough sniffing and looking over.

“Mmf!” Tulip jumped as she felt him sniff her special place. Boomer plopped down on his haunches in contemplation for a moment.

“Hmm
 Dis wun! Boomaw wan’ dis wun!”

“Mmmfff! MMMFFFFF!”

“Well don’t just sit there askin’ me about it,” the man shouted cheerily, “go on ‘n get goin’!”

“Yaaay!”

Boomer practically jumped on top of Tulip, who responded with a muffled shriek as she felt him press against her.

“Don’ wowwy comfy mawe! Boomaw gon’ gib bestest speciaw huggies!”

“MMMMMFFFFFFFFF!? MMMMMFFFFFFFFFFF!”

“Otay! Hewe come da enfies!”

Tulip kept trying to scream and squirm away. All around her, she could hear the other mares get mounted as well. Some tried to cry out as well, but the rest simply shut their eyes tight and let it happen.

“Eeeennnnffff
” Boomer moaned. “A-Awight
 G-Gonna gib bestest enf
 enf
 enf, enf, enf, enf enf enf!”

“MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!”

“Enf enf enf enf enf!” Boomer lost himself to atavistic lust, thrusting away. Soon, the room was a chorus of exertion, drowning out the whimpers of the mares and complaints of those who had to wait their turn.

“ENF ENF ENF ENF ENF ENF ENFENFENFENFENF- G-G-G-GUUUUUUUUUD FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWS!”

“MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!”

Tulip sobbed as the stallion rolled off of her, panting. Whatever this was, they weren’t special huggies. They were the worst thing imaginable.

“Bestest
 feews
”

As Boomer flopped over onto the ground, the man carefully dragged him away from the action.

“Sheesh. Sometimes I think y’horny lil’ bastards should get a cigarette or somethin’.”

Behind him, the rest of the colts and stallions grew restless.

“Huu! How time tiww Spawky get speciaw huggies?”
“Skippy wan bestest feew tu! Wan gu’ afta Boomaw!”
“Wan gu next! Wan bestest enfies wif’ comfy mawe!”

The man laughed as he cleaned off Tulip’s fluff. “Wow! Looks like yer’ pretty popular with the fellas, hehe! Now the rest of you get in line! You’ll all have a turn, don’tchu worry!”

Tulip didn’t even try to scream anymore. Instead, she shut her eyes and tight as she could and cried, thinking about the blissful existence she never even knew she had until she was torn away from it.

As she felt the next stallion clamber up behind her, she knew this was the first day of the rest of her life.

28 Likes

Second short story
 for a given value of short, anyway.

Big thanks to @Pastry_Knight for letting me write a story about his Fluffy Fun Center. For whatever reason, the idea of “comfort mares” stuck with me as a particularly fucked up idea. So of course, I had to write a story about it.

6 Likes

Poor Tulip, fucked over (literally and figuratively) by someone who seems to actually care for their own Fluffy but sees her as a tool.

Fuck, you’d have a better use of time and money just buying her, letting her get fucked, then tossing her outside. At least then she’d still have some form of a life.

6 Likes

Working the fuckpit must be a blast, it’s a fucked concept but would 100% happen in the real world.

Great story.

2 Likes

Yea industrial sadbox / Abuse! i may be a hug boxer but i adore Industrial stories. Glad you could add onto it

5 Likes

Kinda funny how she felt so much better than all the other fluffies in the shelter when she knew she was leaving. Like damn.

3 Likes

I will never get used to the concept of comfort mares. I’ve read too damn much history.

2 Likes

do you people read this and then question your sanity? 
as if we are normalizing what should be an extremely horrific act?

1 Like

This sort of nastiness is what makes fluffies interesting to me, I think: the idea that humans invented a sentient race designed to be innocent companions, then go out of their way to commodify their suffering, or even engage in horrific tortures for fun.

It’s why I’m usually disinterested in stories where the fluffies themselves act antagonistic (ie hellgremlins), since fluffies work best when their innocence collides headfirst with the cruel world humans have made around them, imo.

PastryKnight’s idea of a “Fluffy Fun Center” was interesting to me precisely because the idea of a business casually offering a pet owner the chance to have their pet have a go with the rape slaves struck me as so banally evil. What kind of people allow for shit like that? How do fluffies, these innocent outsiders, react when led into mens depravity?

Also haha wehehe funny horse get raped yahoo

5 Likes

I love it. Perfectly needlessly cruel.

I had not envisaged the comfort mares is this particular way, I was thinking more just a group of mares that were spayed so they couldn’t get pregnant but really wanted to so they would have a go with whichever fluffy showed up.

3 Likes

So this right here? Is fucking GLORIOUS.

It’s tragic as all hell, and cruelty enacted only for the purposes of profit. And more or less what I thought of when I heard the term comfort mares during FFZ’s introduction.

Evil and cruelty at its most casual and banal.

3 Likes