All criticism and comments welcomed. I may come back and edit for clarity. I learned a lot by writing this and will incorporate the lessons into writing more interesting stories in the future. Thanks for reading and fuck fluffies.
The Mare’s Fate
The drive home was fun; you turn off the stereo because nothing compares to the sweet “huu huu huu” a ‘soon-mummah’ makes when shes upset and scared. You get to the house and take the cardboard box with the crying mare and place her in the spare bedroom put aside as the ‘safe room’.
Sitting at the dining room table you took a few minutes to reset your mind and figure out how to maximize the enjoyment tormenting the stupid mare. After enjoying a nice glass of water and some cucumber slices you crack open the safe room door to see if the fluffy has figured out how to get out of the box. It hasn’t; typical fluffy, completely incapable of abstract thought beyond play, food, huggies, special huggies, and love of babbehs.
“Huu huu huu” the mare continued crying to herself standing in the copypaper box. Quietly you saunter over to listen to her talking to herself
“Mawble am scared. Marble wan spweshal fwend. Where am spweshal fwed to come safe Mawble and babbeh huu huu huu…”
Opening the box she makes a surprised “peep!” before she immediately cowers and while trying to push herself into the corner of the box and criee “Munstah! Mawble am scawed. Please nu hewt Mawble. Am only widdle fwuffy and soon mummuah!”
Enjoying her fear and disoriented state you unceremoniously overturn the box and she dumps out on the floor where she gets up and strains herself as she waddles towards the corner of the room. As she reaches the corner she turns to look at you and then starts looking frantically around the room before realizing she is trapped.
At this she starts shrieking “hewp! Spweshal fwend hewp Mawble! Safe Mawble!”
“Marble” you sternly say over her shrieks. "I need you to calm down. I am your daddy now and you need to do what i say!”
“HUU HUU HUU” She cries. “Where am Spweshal fwend? Mawble nu like nyu daddy huu huu huu!”
Walking over to her you reveal a long slender flexible stick. “Marble” you say “Stop crying. This is the sorry stick. If you do not do what i tell you to do I will hit you with it”
The mare stops crying and just huddles in the corner shaking. “Heh” ypu think to yourself “at least shes smart enough to be afraid…”
“Mawble am scawd huu huu huu” quietly says the mare as you look her over.
Overall she looks like shes in pretty good condition for a fluffy. Definitely on the younger side and this appears to be her first litter. She seems like she was socialized around other fluffies since she recognizes herself as a “soon mummah” but she also seems like shes spent her life feral.
“Where am Mawble nao? And where am spweshal fwend?” she once again asks.
“Greenie decided he didn’t want to come to my house ” you casually lie to her. “He decided he doesnt want to give you any more huggies or love. He said he never wants to see you again”
The mare gasps “Why spweshal fwend nu love Mawble anymoar? Mawble am soon mummah and nee spweshial fwend huu huu hu WOWSTEST HEWT HURTIES!.” she starts to wail.
Smack! “Screee!!!” shrieks Marble as you bring the thin flexible sorry stick down on the side of her head. .
“Wowstest owwies!” she cries before you bring the stick down right between her eyes.
smack!
“Screee!!! Nu want owwies!! hewp fwuffy! Fwuffy am soon mummah!” Screams the mare as she starts to move herself clockwise around the room. Casually walking behind her she pisses and shits herself as she drags her sagging belly and swollen crotchtits to get away from you.
As she exhausts herself and collapses onto her belly after only making it halfway around the room you give her a slight kick that rolls her onto her back.
“Huu huu pwease stawp hewting fwuffy!! FWUFFY AM SOON MUMMAH!” she begs between pants while she tries to catch her breath.
“Too late” you think to yourself as you bring the sorry stick down onto her swollen crotchtits and start repeatedly smacking them as she shrieks.
After a dozen slaps it gets to a point where her crotchtits start bleeding. Shrieking, her limbs flail about as her eyes start to bulge and she continues to scream.
“SCREEE SCREEEE!!!” she continues as you whale on her.
Blood from her crotchtits starts dripping onto the carpet.
“Fuck” you think to yourself as she somehow rights herself and begins crawling away from you smearing a trail of blood behind her.
At this point you grab her by her tail and drag her out to the garage. Time to go medieval on her.
While carrying her through the house she keeps flailing and begging “Pweaae daddeh Mawble am gud fwuffy Mawble am only want huggies and wuv and babbehs. Pwease nu hewt fwuffy. Fwuffy am soon mummah. Pwease daddeh nu hewt…”
The fluffy makes a wet slap as you fling her onto the smooth concrete floor of the garage.
“Huu huu sabe fwuffy” she begs as she slips on the blood from her own bleeding crotchtits as she crawls away from you towards the under part of a rack where you store paint and other liquids.
As she crawls away from you, you start shaking with excitement as you decide what tools to use. Thinking creatively you grab the hose connected to your compressed air tank and pull it out as you flick on the compressor and then walk over to the pregnant mare trying to squeeze herself under the paint rack. Dragging her out by her tail as she screams you kneel down and push her back onto her back.
“Pwease daddeh nu hewt Mawble anymoar!” begs the fluffy. “Mawble am gud fwuffy and soon mummah! Mawble wuvs daddeh and Mawble am soon mumma-”
MRRRRRRRRR the compressor roars as you poke the air hose into the fluffy pony’s eye and give it a blast.
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” screams the fluffy.
With this action her eye is completely collapsed and pushed back like a deflated balloon in its socket. Surprisingly not a lot of blood comes out.
Huff Huff “Nuu-” Huf “Nu hewt see pwaces! Mummah nu can see babbehs without see-ey pwaces!” says the fluffy as it still vainly tries to convince you to stop your fun.
Getting up to head back to your tool station the fluffy rolls over scurries to make her way back to the paint rack while it’s deflated eye dangles out of its socket. With your back turned you can hear her labored breaths as she tries with all her feeble power to save herself and unborn foals.
Returning with a mallet you kneel down to look under the rack as the pregnant mare at this time has successfully crammed herself up under it as she shakes in complete and total terror.
huf huf “Nu hewt huf fwuffy” she yells to you as you grope around under the rack. Finding her tail you start pulling as she grips onto the back part of the rack and while pushing herself away from you away as hard as she can with her back legs. As you pull you start to hear some bones pop in her tail as she beings to scream again.
“SCREEEE! NU HEWT PWETTY TAIL!” shouts the fluffy as you keep yanking. Suddenly you hear something give way and then the soon mummah shouts.
“BIGGEST POOPIES!” as her cunt starts bleeding before you see the outline of a foal begin to emerge from her. One after another the foals start popping out of the mummah fluffy as you keep yanking on her tail.
“SCREEE!!! NU HEWT BABBEHS!” shrieks the fluffy. “Wun widdle babbehs! WUN WAY FROM MUNSTAH!”
Looking at the babies for a moment you then look her in the eye and dart down under the rack and grab her four peeping newborn foals.
“NUUUUUUUUU!” shrieks the mummah fluffy as you retreat from the rack.
“Daddeh is going to give dees babbehs huggies and wuv!” you mockingly call to her as you bring them over to your workbench.
Plopping them down you examine the four of them. All normal colors. Nothing remarkable. One is a red pegasus.
Examining them the soon mummah emerges from under the rack and and shouts.
“Nu worry babbehs mummahs comin!” and being a lot more mobile now that her belly isnt as engorged she does her best to trot over to your bench and sink her teeth into the jeans over your ankle.
Looking down at her you dangle a little blue colt to where she can see it as it starts emitting scardy peeps and cheeps as let her view it for a couple seconds before you drop the foal to the floor. Releasing your ankle from her mouth the mummah lunges at the foal but before she can reach it you callously crush the foal under your shoe.
“Nuuuuuuuu!” Screams the mare as you lift your foot and she grabs the foal and cradles it.
“Huu huu huu munstah hewt widdle babbeh!” she cries as she cradles it before suddenly realizing it is dead. “Widdle babbeh? WIDDLE BABBEH?”
“NUUUUUUUU! NU GU FOWEVEA SLEEPIES! HUU HUU HUU shrieks the one eyed, bleeding mare.
Turning away from the mummah and refocusing your attention to the other three foals you grab a green colt and decide to give him the ‘Greenie’ treatment like his bastard father and dangle it up to where the sobbing mare can see. Remembering there are three more foals the mummah looks up at you and right as she tries to say something you slam the peeping foal into the garage floor as hard as you can. THWACK!
The mother just stands there frozen staring at the little green foal’s body flattened on the cold smooth concrete floor.
“Babbehs?” says the mummah as she looks at the green foal and then looks back at the little blue one you crushed. Looking back and forth, back and forth at the two the mummah starts bawling and completely overwhelmed,
“HUU HUU HUU MUNSTAH DADDHE GIV TWO WIDDE BABBEHS FOWEVA SLEEPIES HUU HUU HUU!”
As she cries she curls up into a ball and sobs uncontrollably. At this you decide this is about the time you end this stress session.
Picking her up by her mangled tail you show the two remaining foals to her who are desperately peeping as they lay helpless on the tool table.
“You see your babbehs there?” You ask the sobbing mare. “I am going to give them both ‘forever sleepies’ just like i gave your special friend and like i am going to give them to you.
“Huu huu huu pwease gib babbehs to mum-”
CRACK “SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” screams the mares as your you snap her back leg to a weird angle.
“WOWSEST HEWTIES!!! SCREEEEEEEEEEEE!
Crack Crack CRACK goes the remaining three limbs as the mare passes out from the pain. With that you bring the two remaining foals down to their ‘mummah’ and affix both of the blind newborns to her crotchtits.
You give them about 15 minutes to load up on milk as you start to put the garage back in order and wipe up some of the blood and the two crushed foals. Once you have gotten things in better order you scoop up the milk engorged foals and take them into the house and throw them to your two siamese who havent been fed yet. They’ll certainly enjoy the milky surprise.
Returning to the mare, you scoop her limp unconscious body up and throw her back into the copypaper box you brought her in and head out to your car. After chucking the box in the passenger seat you head over to your friend Robert’s house and sell her to him as a milkbag for 30 bucks.
Not a bad weeknight.