I wasn’t sure if this should be controversial or not since nothing actually HAPPENS. If it should be let me know and I will adjust accordingly.
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It’s a beautiful spring morning. The air is fresh from the previous night’s rain and the sun is shining brightly. The beams reflect against the dew drops, making the lawn look sparkly. A tiny fluffy pony sits in front of a sliding glass door, pawing at it with a wonton desire to run about the shiny grassies.
Beatrice gives a sigh at the soft squeaking that the leathery hoof makes against the glass, approaching the door and fluffy.
“You need to use your big girl words, Jesse,” she states, coffee in one hand and the other on her hip. Despite the filly’s limited vocabulary, Beatrice still tries to practice with her everyday. Besides, Jessabelle knew enough to ask to go out.
The magenta filly lifted her head, tilting it to the side as she tried to formulate a reply. “Wan… go outsies?“ she chirped, tail wagging excitedly. Beatrice smiled at the effort and slid open the door so her fluffy could play.
Jesse wasted no time in jumping into the damp grass, giving a grimace at the cold wawa before being immediately distracted by the shimmer around her. Satisfied that her foal-sized mare was safe in their gated backyard, Beatrice took a seat at the kitchen island and read the morning paper.
The fluffy could preoccupy herself for hours just tumbling in the grass and chasing her own tail. Her giggles filled the rather spacious backyard as she frollicked. They also seemed to attract the attention of a passerby.
A scruffy looking stallion was trotting through the neighborhood streets. He was certainly a feral judging by his filthy green coat and protruding ribs. His blue mane and tail were matted as well. Still, he was large for a fluffy, sporting a wide frame. A horn adorned his brow and the puff of his cheeks easily gave away his Smarty Syndrome. Still, his poor weight signaled he had no herd — or had lost it a while back. Having no minions to bring him food and enfies left him thin and blue balled.
He huffed as he squeezed in between two houses, searching for a “dummeh hoomin” to threaten and demand from. His ear flicked at the sound of giggling, cheeks puffing up extra big as he approached the source. Through the cracks in the fence, he could see the culprit— a pink filly bouncing about her yard with nary a care in the world.
This seemed to piss the stallion off— how dare this dummeh babbeh get a housie and not him? He stamped his front hooves angrily against the board of the fence, immediately alerting the smaller fluffy.
Jesse turned her head curiously at the sound, blinking slowly as she spied the dirty green fluffy. Slowly, she approached the same board and peaked through the crack.
“H…hewwo…?” she stammered out, not from fear but from struggling to form the right word.
The smarty gave a huff, glaring daggers at her. “Dummeh babbeh wet smawty in! Gib housies and nummies and toysies and—“ he cut himself off as a smell assaulted his senses. His brows furrowed in contemplation, trying to figure out what exactly he was experiencing.
“And… enfies?” He muttered, more to himself than to the other. No, she was a filly. Fillies were too small for enfies… but. She didn’t SMELL like a filly.
Jessabelle hadn’t spoken the entire time the smarty thought, too busy trying to figure out what “enfies” were. She’d never heard that word before, her tiny brain struggling to understand.
“Hey, dummeh. ‘Ou am mawe?” His words caught her attention and she quickly shook her head.
“Jebbe… am fiwwie…babbeh” she replied. These words, at least, she understood.
“Nu! ‘Ou Nu smeww wike fiwwie, ‘ou smeww wike mawe! Cum hewe dummeh mawe and gib smawty speshul huggies NAO!” he began to shout, both front hooves firmly pressed against the boards as he hoisted himself up. His throbbing erection poked through the space between and he began to buck.
Jessabelle was put off by the loud voice and strange object now staring her in the face. Her ears bent back and her tail slipped between her back legs, protecting her special place despite not fully understanding the situation.
“Nu…Nu wan huggies…” she muttered and slowly began to back up. This only irritated the smarty further, his thrusts becoming more aggressive.
“ENF… ENF… GIB SMAWTY ENFIES NAO OW GET SOWWY HOOFSIES!!” he screamed, causing Jesse to release scaredy peepees all over her pink tail. She began to sob, turning and breaking into a full sprint towards the door.
“SCREE!! M-mummah!! cheep Scawy fwiend… wouwd!! chirp Jebbe makes bad peepees!! peep cheep!”
Beatrice have a sigh at the noise, figuring Jessabelle scared herself with a squirrel or bug again. However, when she turned her head and saw the fillie standing in her kitchen, soaked in pee and sobbing, she set her coffee down and approached.
“What scary friend? A buggie??” She question, receiving a desperate headshake.
“F-fwuffy… chirp scawy wan… huggies!! Nu wan… peep Nu dummeh…!” She sobbed, partial sentences being all she could muster. That’s when Beatrice turned her head towards the open door and noticed him. Some nasty fucking shitrat with his dick currently fucking her fence.
She saw red.
Slowly, the woman lifted her soiled fluffy and set her in the sink, filling it only slightly with warm water. “Stay here.” She stated, Jesse far too terrified by the situation to even move an inch.
The woman cracked her knuckles aggressively, slipping on her garden work boots and entering the yard. She approached the fence, immediately being bombarded with demands and insults.
“—and dummeh hoomin bwing back fiwwie mawe fow bestest, tightest enfies an—“ he was cut off by a pain to his groin. His eyes bulged, glancing down to see the humans not hoof pressing his member to one of the boards and causing it to curve slightly.
“Nu-Nu stick!! Wet go!!! Nee’ fow bestest feews!!” He screeched, attempting to pull away but finding his dick firmly stuck.
“Listen to me you disgusting little fuck. You come near my house or my fluffy again and I’ll give you ‘forever sleepies’ understand? Now GO.”
The smarty started to form an argument, but the increasingly stinging pressure on his dick was making that quite difficult. He tried once again to pull away as she had told him to, but found his special place was still stuck.
“D-dummeh hoomin— Nu can weave if ‘ou nu wet go of smawty’s nu-nu st—“
“I SAID GO!” Screamed the woman as she applied a bit more pressure to the sensitive member. A screech ripped from the smarty’s mouth and without thinking of the consequences of his actions, he pushed away from the fence.
There’s a wet, ripping sound as he does so, and though he realizes his mistake and tries to catch himself, the slippery grass below him makes it impossible. Before he can react, he’s fallen flat on his ass, dick ripped from his pelvis and hanging limply from where it was previously mounted. The only thing keeping it from falling is the human’s boot.
It takes a second for the pain to register, but when it does there’s a torrent of shit and bloody piss that puddles around the stallion. He’s been reduced to peeping as stumbles over himself and tries desperately to run from the munstah that removed his favorite appendage.
Beatrice saw no need to say anything, hoping he got the message and would spread the word to any other ferals. With a disgusted face, the woman kicked the dismembered penis under the fence and out of her yard. A spritz of her hose got rid of any blood left on the wood.
With a groan, Bea turned and re-entered her home, approaching the kitchen sink and the sobbing fluffy. She gave a soft hum as she bathed the filly, comforting her with a gentle song. The whole time, the fluffy sobbed and babbled about “scary huggies” and “bad peepees”. After being cleaned, Jesse is wrapped in a kitchen towel and taken into her saferoom. Finally dry and safe in her own bed, Beatrice gives her dusty pink mane a pet.
She never wanted to discuss special huggies or special friends with Jesse. She avoided any media involving those or babies, seeing as there was no way that Jessabelle could physically (or mentally for that matter) handle it. Her stunted hormones prevented her from craving it or understanding, the triggers in her brain that were meant to scream “want babies” never seemed to form.
She sighed at her own selfishness. She should have considered this happening, should have prepared her filly better in case it did. Because of Beatrice’s decision not to expose the filly, she now had to deal with a traumatized child. Hopefully this experience wouldn’t be too damaging for the stunted fluffy— she prayed it would be forgotten by her short attention span and poor short-term memory.
“I was hoping to avoid this, but I guess we have to finally have… the talk,” she coos softly, staring into Jessabelle’s deep, blue eyes with a sense of guilt and hesitation. The filly seems to pick up on this, moving to hug the woman’s thumb in comfort. Even in the midst of trauma, her sweet little girl was selflessly trying to make her feel better.
That only made her feel worse about the whole thing.
