Family issues (UnspeakableCake)

You’re a blue fluffy stallion and you are as happy as can be!

You have the best special friend who gave birth 2 bright-times ago and you’re currently watching her pick apart a piece of bread which a nice mistah gave you just now so she can make milkies for your beautiful babies.

Life is good.

And you, you’re a red fluffy mare with five beautiful babies and a handsome blue stallion who’s always there to protect you and your babies. Speaking of babies, you’ve just finished eating some delicious nummies!


You sit down, letting your babies, who were squirming around in your fluff, clamber down from your back. One baby falls off and starts chirping loudly out of shock.

“It am miwkies-time! Tee hee, Babbeh siwwy! Cum tu mummah an mummah make bettah wif huggies.”

Cooing, you lift the baby that had fallen off up and hug it. It immediately starts calming down.

Meanwhile your other babies have latched onto your milkie-place, suckling the fresh milk that you just made, chirping contently every now and then.

When your babies are finished and fed, you pick each one up seperately, nuzzling them and telling them how much you love them.

“Mummah wub babbehs! Babbehs am pwetties babbehs ebah an dwink wots of miwkies fow gwow big”

They look up at you with nothing but pure love in their eyes (Which have only been open for about 2 hours).

With your special friend tending to her babies, you decide to sleep a little, curling up tightly against the wall of the grocery store where you found a cardboard box. The box had suddenly disappeared one bright-time but you’d decided to stay nevertheless because there was always nummies to be found somewhere. You think of love and huggies as you close your eyes.

A fluffy family. A very happy fluffy family as you can tell by the plump, well-fed foals that are sleeping in the fluff of a pretty purple mare. A stallion (presumably her ‘special friend’) is also there, sleeping soundly against the back wall of the grocery store.

You pick up a stone and drop it on the ground, waking up the family instantly. The two parents jump, flinging the foals off the back of their mother. While she calms down her babies, the stallion approaches you.

“Why mistah make bad noisies? Fwuffies nu wike… Am bad fow babbehs”

“Sorry! Sorry, that was an accident”

“An’ why mistah hewe? Hoomins neba cum tu backsies of nummie housie”

That was a pretty advanced question for a fluffy!

You smile and lean down to the fluffy stallion.

“You know what?”


“You guys want a new daddy?”

“Yus! Yus! Pwease nyu daddeh, gib fwuffy bestest housies!”

“Heh heh… We’ll see about that”

Despite being ferals, they seem pretty happy, probably being supplied with food by the dumpster behind the store.

“Speciaw fwen! Cum, nice mistah wan be nyu daddeh!”


“Weawwy? Wub nyu daddeh!”

The mare rounds up her babies, letting them climb up on her back and then she joins her special friend who is looking at you expectantly.

All their original scepticism has been wiped away.

“Okay then, follow me”

The walk home isn’t very long thankfully or you would’ve gone crazy from all the incessant chattering. How the hell do people keep these as pets?

You’ve always viewed fluffies as loud, annoying little shit factories and originally, you didn’t want to have anything to do with them. That changed however when you learned of fluffy abuse and of the fact that these shitrats aren’t protected by animal cruelty laws because they’re ‘biotoys’ or some crap. Anyhow, that opened up a whole range of unlimited entertainment opportunities and, after weeks of research and preperation, you’ve finally decided you want to try it out for yourself.

So here you are, unlocking your front door with the ex-ferals still happily chattering about you or the house or their life in general.

You lead the fluffies to a saferoom and name the two parents. Lilac (the mare) and pumpkin (the stallion) couldn’t be happier about their new living conditions.

“Wiwac wub nyu namesies!”

Pumpkin and Lilac settle in and for a week you behave like an absolute hugboxer, loving them, feeding them and letting them watch TV together. Their foals started talking somewhere around the fourth day which made their parents squeal with excitement, showing their ‘tawkie babbehs’ off to you.

It’s now the seventh day and you enter the fluffies’ saferoom like every morning.

You are greeted excitedly.

“Hewwo, gud bwite time daddeh! Fwuffy wan nummies nao”

Smiling, you kneel down.

“Sure, come here my special little pumpkin”

As expected, he climbs into your arms happily.

You carry him out of the room, noticing how he is completely preoccupied with thinking about breakfast, ignoring Lilacs “Buh wha 'bout Wiwac? Wiwac wan nummies tuu!”

“You’ll get your breakfast Lilac just stay with your babies a bit okay? I’ll be right back”

You can feel the anticipation boiling up inside you and you have to try your hardest not to dig your fingers into pumpkin.

“Owwies! Why gib owwies?”

You think about apologizing about the tight grip, but you decide to just leave it at loosening your grip a little.

When you arrive in the kitchen you lie a towel down on the countertop before putting pumpkin down.

“Soo, pumpkin, do you like your new house?”

“Yus daddeh! Housies am bestest housies buh can hab…”

“Good… good… because today a lot of things are going to change around here”

“Wha daddeh mean?”

“First of all… I don’t love you”


“You’re a bad fluffy”

“Wha?! Buh… buh…”

He jerks his head up turns in record time when he hears this, now sporting a face that looks up at you with a mix of horror and shame at being called a bad fluffy, something that is almost worse than death for a fluffy.

He starts crying.

“Am… sob bad fwuffy? Buh… wha du wong? Pwease wub fwuffy… Am wub daddeh an jus wan wub tuu”

You can’t help but grin.

“You haven’t done anything wrong. I just…”

You pick him up.


You squeeze him.


His face now looks confused.

“…hate you shitrats”

You look at him with the most shit-eating grin you can put on your face.

“And from now on your life is going to have so many hurties. You can’t even begin to imagine what I’m gonna do to you”

The camera feed shows Pumkin entering the fluffy saferoom, head hanging low. Lilac runs up to him.

“Speciaw fwen? Wha am wong?”

Pumkin collapses on the floor, sobbing.

“Nyu daddeh… am munstah daddeh”


“Teww fwuffy dat nu wub an am bad fwuffy…”

“Nu! Pumkim nu am bad fwuffy! Buh… buh mistah su nice…”

“An teww fwuffy dat gib wowstest huwties an’ owwies”


“Fwuffy nu am fo’ huwties… Am fow wub an’ huggies. Pwease Wiwac… fwuffies nee wun way”

“Nu! Wiwac stay hewe! Babbehs nee housie!”

“Buh… daddeh am… munstah”

“Babbehs nee huggies an’ wub!”

“Buh daddeh wiww num babbehs… pwease wisten”

“Nu! Hatechu!”

Wow… that was oddly fast

You open the door slightly before smacking it with the palm of your hand, swinging it into the wall.

“I see pumpkin has informed you of our little talk, has he?”

Pumpkin jumps and runs into the wall, bumping his head hard.


“Yeah yeah, huggies and love, spare me”

Meanwhile Lilac just sits there, mouth agape in silent horror. Her babies are cowered down in the blanket nest, shit dribbling from their asses.

Still screaming his lungs out, Pumpkin is beating and clawing at the wall, shitting and pissing on the spot.

Silently, you walk over to the nest and pick up the foals one by one.

“Pumpkin am wite! Daddeh am wowstest munstah daddeh. Wiwac gib wowstest sowwy po…”


She flies into the wall, spraying the walls with shit and landing on the ground with a splat.

Still keeping completely silent, you leave the saferoom, foals in your arms.

After you’ve closed the door, you take a look at the foals. The foals that, until just a minute ago, knew nothing but love and affection nothing but happiness. They’re minds are so twisted and torn by your display, a display of horror and abuse they can’t comprehend.

They’re not shitting.

They’re not crying.

They’re just silently quivering, their minds shut down with the influx of bad information.

Finally, as you’re going down the stairs, one of the foals stirs and looks up at you with a look of utter hopeless desperation. A look that would’ve shattered a hugboxers heart into millions of pieces.

You place the foals on the kitchen table where they immediately back up to the opposite end of the table, trying to get away from you.

What they don’t take into consideration however is the fact that the table has a finite length and one of the foals shrieks as it falls off, breaking its fragile neck on impact with the ground.

Maybe you ought to put them in a tupperware box so they don’t rob you of the pleasure of torturing them.

Both fluffies jump as you step into the saferoom, hacksaw and blowtorch in hand.

“MUNSTAH! Wewe babbehs? Babbehs tuu widdew! Nee mummah fo’ miwkies an’ wub!”

“Shush! Your babies are safe.”


“Yes, I promise. Now, come here. I’m hungry.”


“And do you know what would be just delicious right now?”

You grab her very suddenly.

“One of your… ‘leggies’”

“NUUUUU! Munstah nu num fwuffy weg…”


The hacksaw makes a rythmic scraping as it severs Lilacs leg, blood spurting onto the ground where it forms a small pool.

When you’re done, you wave the hacksaw around in front of Lilacs face.

“That wasn’t very fun… Wait what? You want me to cut off another leg?”

“Wha? NUU! NUUUU! Nu take moah weggies! Nee fo’ wun an pway an gib huggies tu babbehs…”

“Are you very sure you want another leg gone?”

“NUUUUUUUUU-huu-huu… Nu moah… make owwies gu way…”


The mare looks up at you with a glimmer of hope.

“Yus… Nu wan huwties nu mowe”

“Okay, if you say so… Here goes!”


And so, humming to yourself, you pillow the mare as slowly as possible, sucking up her pain and turning it into adrenaline, fueling your lust for unending torture.

Meanwhile, pumpkin is watching the whole endeavour, silenced every now and then by a glare from you.

Before long you have a pillowed mare and a quivering stallion on your hands and you go to get the foals, placing Lilacs legs right in front of her face.

The foals, who’ve now had time to process the situation, are chattering away quietly, comforting each other and telling each other their mother would show up to save them when you enter the kitchen, opening the Tupperware box.

“Hey my little dudes!”


The foals look up at you, totally confused.

“Let’s get you back up to your mummah shall we? You must be hungry.”

To reinforce their confusion you carefully pick each foal up, cradling them and bringing them up to their mother slowly.

“Lilac! Look whose here to see you!”


You see her stumps wiggling and for a second there is complete shock on her face before it turns into sadness.

“Pwease bwing babbehs…”

“What? Do you not love them anymore? Can’t you even cone to them to give them huggies?”

The foals wiggle in your arms when they see that their mummah is indeed not moving towards them.

“Mummah nu wub? Am bad babbeh?”

“Why nu wub?”

“Nuu! Pwease! Wub babbeh buh weggies nu wowk! Pwease bwing babbehs…”

The babies panic as the realization sets in that their mummah might not love them anymore. They start crying and chirping, begging their mother to come and love them. That, in turn, makes the mare frantically squirm around, unable to move an inch and watching her foals lose faith in her love.

Eventually, you set the foals down in front of their mother and they run up to her, hugging her.

“Well, can you at least hug your babies?”

Lilac wiggles her stumps hard.

“NUUU! NUUUUU! Wan gib babbehs huggies! Wan gib huggies buh am dummeh no weggie fwuffy… am wowstest fwuffy ebah…”

“Wait so you won’t even hug your babies anymore? Who’s going to give them milkies? They’re gonna starve!”

This really sets the foals off.

“You’re a bad fluffy, a bad mother. You’re the worst! What is wrong with you? Abandoning your babies like that… All they ever wanted is a loving hone, a loving family and you deny them EITHER! They only thing your lazy ass does is sit here. Look at them!”

You point at Lilacs foals.

“They’re four beautiful fluffy foals and you don’t love them. You just leave them here to STARVE!”

The mare is beyond speech, lying on the floor, sobbing and chirping.

“You know… there’s something I’ve always wanted to try. How flammable is your fluff?”

You pick up the blowtorch.


Moderately flammable…

You laugh, kicking Lilac in her tits.

Then you move your attention to Pumpkin who immediately starts running around. You corner him and slowly move towards him like a horror movie villain. When he tries to run along the wall you snatch him up.


“Nu gib owwies. Pwease…”

Instead of an answer, you grin at him and pull a packet of sewing pins out of your pocket.

He looks at it curiously until you open it, revealing the small, sharp pins.

Before you can do anything however, a baseball suddenly flies across the street, through your window, shattering the glass, and into the top of your skull, rendering you eight types of dead.

You let go of Pumpkin who shrieks as he falls onto Lilac rather unceremoniously and fall onto the whole fluffy family, flattening them instantly.

When the baseball flies at you there isn’t much you can do. Instinctively, you bat it away with your baseball bat. Moments later, it flies across the street into the second floor window of a house.

That was way too hard.


I know I should be working on Life of an ex-smarty but my depression as robbed me of ideas as to how to continue so you’ll have to read this abomination in the meantime.



i dont know why, but the way he says that he got into abuse because fluffies arent protected by animal cruelty laws made me realize that at the end of the day, a lot of abusers would probably be killing cats and dogs if they werent protected. I guess it just dawned on me that half of the protagonists of half the stories here are sick fucking people. good story though

EDIT: I certainly wasn’t expecting that ending and i was not expecting jonathan joestar to be at the bat.


I don’t know… I think that dogs are different from fluffies in that first of all, they can’t speak. I think the fluffy baby-ish talk is something very abusable and second of all, they scream. They don’t wimper like dogs would. I for one can definitely say that although maybe I’d enjoy abusing fluffies if they existed, I would never harm a dog or a cat or… any animal really. There’s just that fine line for me that separates fluffies from animals, and I think it’s mainly the fluffspeak that’s doing it.


yeah but this guy specifically citing animal cruelty laws made me realize “holy shit these things are basically just animal kids”


I wouldn’t quite refer to them as ‘animal kids’ because for most people there is probably something in their subconcious mind telling them that fluffies aren’t real animals but rather, well, biotoys. They look like animals but the fluffspeak combined with that subconcious feeling of ‘this is not an animal’ justifies the abuse somehow. I actually don’t think that fluffy abusers would abuse dogs even if animal cruelty laws didn’t exist. Idk maybe I should just go to bed cuz it’s 2 am.


There’s something deeply ironic about fluffies. They act like children, and have the sex drive of adults. They beg for luxuries only we can give them, and give nothing back. In the wild, they engage in barbarous, darwinistic behaviours, yet can only harm their own kind. They’re so contradictory in so many ways to ensure that they’re as pathetic as possible that it just drives home how unnatural they are.