Erin's First Fluffy (Hugbox/Abusebox) Pt.13 by ThatOneFluffyMare

You are Erin. You’ve had an eventful week with your little unicorn fluffy, Sapphire. Yesterday was quite the shock to your system as you witnessed a feral stallion trying to take away your precious pet and friend, only to be met with brutal murder at the hands of your best friend’s fluffy, Dusty. Even though she was brought home safe, you were still greatly worried about her.

Your morning was very uneventful. You went through your morning routine with Sapphire. Getting up, getting both of you fed, letting her have some more FluffTV time while you wrote out some more plans, and you took her outside for a while.

You sat Sapphire down onto one of your lawn chairs after she did her business in the “good poopies yard box”, making sure she was safe and comfortable before bringing out your lawn mower. Sapphire looked at you and the massive (at least to her) machine in curiosity.

Mummah, whu’ am dat tingy?” she asks you, pointing at it.

You gave the push mower a couple of taps on the side of the engine housing with your gloved hand. “This is called a lawn mower, Sapphire. Mommas and daddies use these to trim their grass so it doesn’t get too long and look bad.”

Sapphire nodded in understanding. After all, really tall grass can hide some really scary things!

“But when momma is using this, you must stay away from her, got it?” You gave her a stern warning tone, hoping she would get the message of it being dangerous.

Sapphire cocked her head to one side. “Buh why? Mummah nu wan wub when mowin’ gwassies?

You smile at her wholesomeness before priming the engine and giving the pull cord a few good tugs.

“Nope, it’s because it’s very, very dangerous. If a fluffy gets caught up under it while it’s on… Well, let’s just say that fluffy is going forever sleepies, and no one can help it.”

Sapphire swallowed hard. As you gave the mower one last good tug, the engine roared to life, making an excessively loud sound. Sapphire gives a shrill “Eep!” of terror before covering her ears. You gently tap her head to get her attention before giving her a handmade pair of noise canceling, fluffy sized earmuffs. You move her hooves away from her head and slide them on. Sapphire looks around as the noise gets reduced to a far more tolerable level… But the machine still scared her quite a bit. You slide your own headphones on and begin to mow the lawn.

Sapphire watched you as you went, looking at the collection bag filling up more and more as you went along. When you were farther away from her, she enjoyed taking deep breaths of the freshly cut grass. You couldn’t blame her, that smell was near intoxicating and a reward of itself for taking care of your yard.

When you finished the backyard, you moved along the side of the house toward the front. Sapphire carefully slid down the leg of the chair like a fire pole and followed you so she wouldn’t be left alone – making sure to keep a good distance between where you were mowing and where she was.

After you finished mowing, you turned off the mower and trimmed the remainders of the lawn that the mower couldn’t reach. Namely around your flowers, trees, fencing, and paths. You look at Sapphire sitting on the front steps and tapped your headphones, telling her she can take them off now. She carefully slides them off her little head and ears before sitting them down in front of her.

“Do you wanna see something neat, Sapphire?” you ask her.

She nods and hops her way over to you as you take the push mower over to the compost bin. You carefully unhook the collection bag and show her the contents. The bag was nearly full of grass clippings, and reeked of exhaust fumes and cut grass. Her eyes widen before coughing a little, choking on the fumes.

Koff koff… Dats a wot o’ gwassies! Koff koff…” she says. “Whu’ mummah am do wif all dem gwassie nummies?

You lift the bag away from her and open the bin before dumping it in. “I put it into this bin for a while, and let it go through a process called “decomposition”. Over time, the grass dies and goes into a state where I can use it for fertilizing other plants.”

Sapphire thinks for a moment before a light goes on in her brain. “Wike wiff fwuffeh gud poopies bawx in yawd, wite?

You finish emptying the bag before putting it back onto the mower and patting her head. “That’s right. Only less yucky smelling.”

Sapphire seemed to beam with pride that she got it right. You walked with her back into the backyard before putting the mower away. Helping her into the chair again, you tell her you’ll be right back with some snacks and drinks before heading into the house.


You are Sapphire, Erin’s little blue unicorn fluffy. You just learned about your mummah’s lawn mower and decomposition. At first you didn’t get it, but you quickly thought that it’d be like your mummah using your good poopies for her pretty flowers. Mummah seemed to be so proud of you for being so smart! It made you feel good inside.

You lay in the chair your mummah sat you in while she went inside for foodies and drinkies. You enjoy the gentle breeze making the cut grassies smell waft around you. The smell relaxes you greatly… Until you catch wind of something familiar.

You lift your head up with your ears attentive. You sniff the air intently… Where was this smell coming from? And why did you recognize it? You clamber down from the tall chair, holding onto it’s leggie while sliding down. Once on the ground, you kept sniffing as you patrolled around. The cut grassie smell was interfering with you finding where this new, dirty smell came from…

You poke your head around the corner of the house, and you see it. You see them. A large, overly thick, poopie brown fluffy mare and her three foals… All of which were around your height. Your eyes narrowed as your stance changes to something akin to an angry cat about to get into a fight. The mare and her foals begin to approach you as you back off around the corner again, trying to clamber back up onto the chair… But to no avail. Instead you just succeed in the chair being tipped over with a thunk!

The mare and her foals round the corner as you whip around to keep an eye on them.

Wha’ ‘ou wan’, fewal mawe? 'Ou am bad fwuffehs!” you say to them, trying to sound as threatening as possible while also trembling.

Mummah nu am bad…” she starts, taking a step toward you. "Mummah nu hab speshul fwen’ nu moaw ‘cuz ob ‘ou. Mummah an’ babbehs hungwy. Nee’ nummies… Mummah twack 'ou down and nao 'ou gib nummies!" she continues, puffing her cheeks out.

Each time she takes a step toward you, you take a step back. This is looking to be a pretty bad situation… Soon you’ll have to choose whether to take a stand like Dusty did… Or try and run.

Smawty fwuffeh was ad fwuffeh! Wan’ tu enfie Saffiuh, 'ou nummies Saffiuh! Saffiuh nu am gib 'ou nummies!

The mare was not pleased to hear you say this. She looks very angry as her tummy growls. Her foals begin to get upset at this, asking their mummah for nummies. She puts a hoof down on the ground with great force before snorting.

If 'ou nu gib nummies, den 'ou wiww BE da nummies!” she says with fierce determination.

You remember back to yesterday’s events and how you tried to run away from that earthy smarty, but couldn’t due to his sheer size advantage. You needed Dusty’s help to get out of that sticky situation… But he’s not here with you. He can’t come save you… You figure that you could probably outrun the foals, or at the least beat them up until they give up… But against their mummah, you don’t think you stand a chance.

Wast chancies. Gib nummies, ow be da nummies!” She’s looking right at you, ready to charge.

Dusty isn’t here, your mummah is busy inside… You have to fend for yourself for now. you look around you, not seeing anything you could use to hide in… but then it dawned on you. Sure, she’s bigger than you, but you’re smaller than her! If she charges you, you might be able to get away with sliding under her… And maybe get away. Looking at the feral mare in her eyes, you lower yourself into an instinctual fighting stance. The poopie brown mare tosses her disheveled mane a bit, grinning at you.

‘Ou gun’ fite? 'Ou weawwy am da dummiest of dummeh babbehs. Awwight den, 'ou foonerul!

The mare charges headfirst toward you. As you thought, she bounces a little when she runs, which could give you a good opening. Swiftly, you dash toward her. As she rears herself up during a trot, trying to crush you, you use the slick, newly wet grass to your advantage and slide effortlessly under her. She brings her hooves down too late and misses you by a small margin. After clearing her rump, you get back on all fours and begin to run.

You didn’t quite watch where you were going. When you turned your head forward, you slammed head-first into one of her foals, your horn getting wedged into their front leg. You’ve just drawn boo-boo juice from the foal as they rear back in severe pain. Your horn drips with the red liquid a little as the feral mare turns toward you.

'Ou huwt mummah’s babbeh. Nao mummah gib fowebah sweepies!” she says, preparing to charge again.

You take the injured foal and bite into one of their other legs. They taste disgusting from being outdoors for so long without a bath… But your big is just strong enough to break their leg before you take them as a meat shield. The poopie mare only gets more infuratied.

'Ou tink dat wiww sabe 'ou? 'Ou weawwy am dummeh. Mummah will make 'ou pay!” She begins to charge both you and her foal.

You can’t believe it. She’s going to actually sacrifice her foal just to get to you. The foal you were holding onto peeps and cries for its mummah as you give out a shrill cry.

MUMMAH!” is all you can say before covering your eyes with one leg.

Before you even know what is happening, the door slams open as your mummah marches out and grabs one of her tools resting on the housie. You remember it, it’s her digging tool! She rushes over to you and jams it into the ground, catching the mare by surprise and making her run into it head first. Her nose snaps with an audible crack sound as she gets a major nose bleed.

You move your leggie from your seeing places and watch as your mummah towers over the other fluffy menacingly.

“So, you think you can just wander into my yard and try to hurt my little Sapphire?” she says in a scary tone.

You don’t think you like it when mummah is like this… You let go of the foal and cower a bit under the oppressive pressure your mummah was giving off. She picks up the mare by the scruff and holds her at face level.

Dummeh hoomin! 'Cuz of ‘oo fwuffeh, mummah nu hab speshul fwen’ 'ou nummies nu moah! Bestest mummah wiww tuwn fwuffeh intu nummies fow famiwy!

Your mummah didn’t quite seem to like that. As the feral mare spits some blood onto your mummah’s face, she wipes it off with a near blank, merciless expression. She grabs a hold of the mare’s leg and twists it – hard. The leg snaps as it breaks and the mare gives out a shrill, nearly ear-piercing shriek of pain before she’s sat down onto the lawn again.

“You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve done this…” your mummah says before picking up her diggy tool again. The foals and the mummah are all cowering in a pile. “I wonder if I still have my good hockey arm from school left…”

The ferals watch in terror as your mummah raises her tool above her head. The foals that can walk disperse before she brings it down swiftly like a sorry stick and launches the feral mother across the yard. The foals scream out in fear as they leave a mess of feces and urine before trying to run after their mother. Your mummah picks up the broken foal and tosses it to them, landing on their mother near the curb of the yard.

You peek around the corner to see what happened… The mother looks seriously crippled, most likely having several broken ribs and maybe an organ or two crushed. She struggles to get onto her feet as her foals try to give her “good huggies” to “heal” her. Your mummah looks at them with an angry expression as you leave your own little puddle in fear, her diggy tool dripping in a little bit of blood.

…You never wanted to see your mummah like that again.


You are Erin. You left your little Sapphire outside to relax while you whipped up some food and drinks. While you were busy mixing her food together, you hear a thunk from outside. …Did Sapphire take a tumble trying to get out of the chair? Maybe something just blew over. You mulled it over as you continued to prep her meal, each second making you more and more anxious.

Eventually you walked over to the kitchen window to look outside. You see her chair is tipped over, and there’s some unknown fluffies in your yard. You only see a handful of foals… But where is Sapphire and the mother? Just as you reach for the doorknob, you hear your little fluffy friend cry out.

MUMMAH!

Your blood runs cold as your motherly instincts took over. You slammed the door open and grabbed your nearby spade. Your mind almost goes blank as you see the large mare charging your little Sapphire. You run over to Sapphire and stab the spade down into the earth to create a barricade before the mare runs into the makeshift wall and breaks her nose. Sapphire, who seems to have done some damage to a foal she’s holding onto, is struck with fear. Boundless anger wells up from deep within you.

“So, you think you can just wander into my yard and try to hurt my little Sapphire?” you ask with a deep growl in your throat.

You reached down and picked up the bleeding mare by the scruff of her neck, so she could see the sheer wrathful nature of your face.

Dummeh hoomin! 'Cuz of ‘oo fwuffeh, mummah nu hab speshul fwen’ 'ou nummies nu moah! Bestest mummah wiww tuwn fwuffeh intu nummies fow famiwy!

Great. Not only is this a feral mare, but a smarty feral mare… And a willing cannibal one at that. She spits in your face with a mixture of saliva and blood. You wipe it off your face as your rage increases. You grab her by the hind leg and give it a forceful twist, breaking the joint so she couldn’t use it anymore.

“You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve done this…” You put her down onto the lawn by her foals before unearthing your spade once more. “I wonder if I still have my good hockey arm from school left…”

You slowly raise the spade above your head, akin to a golfer preparing for a drive or a hockey player going for a slap shot. You take a deep breath in. …Are you really about to do this? Are you really going to smash this fluffy? …Your thoughts give you pause for a split second before you give yourself a mental shake. “No, this is for Sapphire. You are her mother. Her guardian and parent. You have to make sure she knows you’ll protect her.” you tell yourself internally.

Exhaling, you bring down the shovel in an arc, hard. You feel the rounded metal make contact with the mare just after her foals disperse from her. Her body gives off an audible crack sound as the force of the spade shatters numerous of her abdominal bones. The mare’s body flies through the air, looking mostly weightless until she slams into the ground near the sidewalk. Her two foals that can walk run to her to give her hugs, while the last one laid on the ground, crying for its mother.

You pick it up and look at it disdainfully. These little shits came to finish the job their father started… And you made sure it did not go according to plan. You give the foal a good, hard toss, making it land heavily onto its mother, causing even more pain before slowly coming down from your adrenaline high.

While you may not have straight up murdered those fluffies, you know you did enough damage that their chances of survival are slim. And those that do survive will hopefully get the message to not mess with your special little girl.

As you come down off your high, you see the mess of your yard, and your terrified little Sapphire. You frown as you kneel down to reach for her. She flinches and scoots back a bit in fear. You pause your movements before wiping your spade off in the grass and sitting down in a clean spot.

“Momma’s not going to hurt you, sweetie.” you tell her in a soft tone. She seems very hesitant to believe you, which makes you feel absolutely atrocious.

M-Mummah… Mummah am scawy when angwies…” she tells you, with tears running down her fuzzy cheeks.

You look around at the battle grounds and you can’t blame her. You’ve never had a violent outburst like that before… But you never had something you wanted to protect so badly either. You quietly look at your little Sapphire before sighing.

“I know, and I’m sorry you had to see that. Momma never meant to scare you, but seeing those fluffies try to hurt you like that made momma super duper angry.” You pause to think over your next few words. “Momma did it because she wanted to protect you, not hurt the fluffies. They were bad, bad fluffies.”

Sapphire nods some. “Saffiuh knos dat dem fwuffehs wewe bad fwuffehs… But mummah… Mummah might huwt Saffiuh…” She looks hesitant to be around you.

You sit back some, resting on your hands. “Momma doesn’t want to hurt you, Sapphire. Momma hurt them so they would stop trying to hurt you. Momma would never want to hurt her special little fluffy.”

Sapphire sniffles some. “W-Weawwy? Mummah nu wan’ huwt fwu-- Saffiuh?

You sit upright again before nodding. “Yes. Momma doesn’t want to hurt you. She only wanted to make the bad fluffies go away.”

You offer your hands to her. She is very unsure, having to think it over for a bit as she looks between your face and your hands. Eventually, Sapphire nods and climbs into the palms of your hands as you bring her in slowly and cuddle her. She coos softly at the gentle touches before breaking down a bit.

You console your little fluffy before putting her chair upright again and bringing her inside. You clean her up some before sitting her on the couch next to you with her meal and letting her get the crying out of her system while watching FluffTV on your big TV. This poor girl really needs some down time after that terrifying display.

16 Likes

A fence is clearly needed at this house. Ferals need to be kept out of yards where domestics live, or you end up with dead or stolen domestics.

A lot of drama with ferals can apparently be prevented by a good fence. Maybe that’s why they always seems to be either falling apart or absent in stories.

1 Like

She probably does need to add more fencing to her home, given that it’s fenced off around the 3 major edges, but no guarding gate in the front.

3 Likes

Erin needs to be very careful around Sapphire.

Another show like this and she might end up terrorizing her for good. Especially with the foals’ treatment. They literally were Sapphire’s age and their only sin was… being there.

2 Likes

Could’ve been a bit younger or a bit older, no one knows. Not yet, anyway.
And yes, she does need to be a bit more careful, but her motherly protection instincts kicked in to keep Sapphire from being kicked to a bloody pulp. Maybe it’ll pan out somehow… :thinking:

2 Likes

Man to think that mare looked everywhere for them is some determination. And ended badly for her.

Glad Sapphire is ok and really raised the fences please :sweat_smile:

1 Like

She must’ve learned some tracking “skills” from her now mushified special friend.

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Bad mummah killing foals.

I thought this was a GOOD story for once, but nope. Another child murderer as a protagonist

1 Like

k.