Most fluffies as food posts involve lots of preparation time, good for a meal but not a quick snack. What if you could Cook them in a Flash, though?
First real abuse story, critiques and writing tips apreciated
Prologue
On a saturday mid morning, a man named John Crate, prepared his late breakfast. It was a Saturday like any other, him resting after a long week at the slaughterhouse, tuning his TV to watch the local news, though mainly to serve as background noise for his thoughts. His train of thought was interrupted by a notification on his phone, the jingle telling him it was his friend, Jane Helen
Opening his phone, he read [heyyyy John, you free today?]. Jane was always straight to the point
[Yeah, whatâs up?]
John got up to check the close lid pan
[The usual, just thought iâd show a new way to cook foals]
[You still do that right?]
John opened the lid. There laid four bloated foals in total, all pillowed and defluffed, before being steamed in their mothers milk. The cloudy eyes, somehow unmelted, stuck in a mixture of pain and confusion. Almost as if judging him, as he picked one by one on his plate
[Canât you just tell me over here?]
He cut one in half, the bloated organs spilling out with a wet noise. He began eating
[Nah, better to show in person]
[Itâs kind of a trend right now]
[Everyoneâs doing it]
[Whatâs so special about it?]
[Perfectly cooked foals in 30 seconds or less]
[Or your money back]
John swallowed wrong, coughing a little and sipping his orange juice. That had to be a joke
[Hahaha]
[Very funny]
[Iâm not joking]
[Tested myself when some ferals came by yesterday]
[Said their âmummahâ got offed by a dog]
[Desperate for âmilkies and wubâ]
Right, this had to be an abuse thing. Jane had been really into abuse ever since the economic crash two years ago, though it had only ended a few months ago. He has been trying to get John into it for some time, but he didnât care enough about fluffies to do it. Just wasnât into it
[Is it an abuse thing?]
[Not really, unless you want it to be]
[JUST REMEMBERED]
[You said your breeder was in her last days right]
One of the habits John had learned during the crash was to breed fluffies for food, way before actual fluffy slaughterhouses became a thing, and he still did it to this day
[Yeah]
[You should bring her over]
[We can cook her âbabbehsâ in front of her]
[Could be some good laughs]
[Iâm not into abuse]
[Already told you]
[Because you never tried]
[Bring her over and letâs give you a try]
[If you donât like it, i stop asking]
[Deal?]
John knew Jane wasnât into lying, and he had nothing better to do. Might as well try a new hobby. It wasnât like he liked fluffies anyway
[Sure, deal]
[Awesome]
[Iâll prepare everything]
[Meet me in my backyard in like an hour]
[Got it]
[Bye]
[Bye bye]
[Love you]
[Shut the fuck up]
With that, John laid down his phone, got up from the kitchen table and moved to his garage. Opening the door, he could see his current breeder, Stain. She was a typical âShit Factoryâ, the kind they use to mass produce bad color foals to make LitterPals, EnfiePals, Enfie-LitterPals, and so on. Currently, she had five foals, all similarly colored with a mixture of browns and dull colors
âOh hewwo daddehâ she said in a happy, but low energy, tone. She had no idea what he had been doing to her children
âHewwo daddeh!â âWub daddeh!â âGif nummies fow miwkies?â Said the babbehs
âWeâre going on a trip. Iâll be back in an hourâ he closed the door and left after saying that
âWat am âtwipâ?â asked one of the babbehs, the only filly in the liter
âAm wen daddhe takâ mummah anâ babbehs tu fun pwace! Babbehs can wun anâ pway aww de wanâ!â
âYay!â âWub twip!â âBabbeh wanâ gu nao!â
As the foals kept cheering at the prospect of leaving the garage, or rather, the box they lived in with their mother, Stain felt a little sad. Being a breeder, she had long been pillowed, and thus could no longer enjoy the things other fluffies did. But it was ok, she had her babies after all, and she could be happy seeing them be happy
She didnât know what she would do if they got hurt
It was just past the afternoon when John arrived at Janeâs house. Parking near the sidewalk, he took the closed cardboard box containing Stain and her foals, moving past the front fance and into the backyard, the muffled voices constantly complaing about ânu wike dis gameâ
Arriving, he saw Jane standing close to what appeared to be a drying rack and a large bucket. He could smell alcohol in the air, probably something to do with this âtrendâ he talked about
âJaneâ He spoke to draw his attention
âJohn!â Jane spoke as he turned around and moved up to greet him. âI suppose these are the chosen ones?â He gestured at the box, now with sounds of ânu wike dawky
John lays the box nearby on a table. âYes, now whatâs this about cooking a foal in less then 30 seconds?â he was still skeptical of that idea
âOh, you are gonna love it!â he said moving back to fiddling with some steel rope. âIâll give you a step by step, then we can enjoy that mare screaming for her âbabbehsââ
âWhy do you like abuse so much?â John asked not out of love for fluffies, but with some concern for his friend
âWhatâs there not to love?â was Janeâs only answer
ââŚis it because of your sister?â
That stopped Jane on his tracks. He spun around, moving towards John
âHa ha ha ha ha, aahh, Johnâ he grabs firmly on Johnâs shoulder. âDonât talk about my sisterâ he said in a lower, more aggressive tone
Jane then clasped his hands together, reverting back to his friendly demeanor
âNow then! Shall we begin?â
With a nod, John took the lid off the box. The sudden change of light provokes yet another series of complaints. But when the fluffies saw their owner, they cheered up
âHewwo daddehâ said stain before looking at Jane. âWhu am nice mistah?â
âIâM one of daddyâs friends!â He cut John off
The foals perked up at the mention of a ânyu fwenâ
âAm daddeh fwen? Be nyu fwen foâ babbehs?â âBabbeh wub nyu fwen!â âWan pway?â was said, among other babbling
âOf course!â Jane answered no question in particular. âBut first, we need to make some foodâ
Stain gasped. âNice mistah giff nummies foâ mummah Stain anâ babbehs?!â with the mention of ânummiesâ causing another babbling uproar
âNo silly!â Jane moved closer to the mareâs face. âYour babies are gonna BE the nummies!â
Suddenly, there was silence. The foals stopped babbling and running around the box. Meanwhile, Stainâs face slowly changed from one of excitement to one of confussion
âWhaâ?â was the only thing she could say
âThatâs right! And it wonât even be the first time. Your âdaddehâ over here has been eating them for a whileâ
The foals were now cowering behind their mother, the concept of them and their siblings being too scary for them
âN-NU! Dat nu twu! Daddeh giff babbehs tu nyu daddehs anâ mummahs! Daddeh pwomise babbehs be safâ anâ happi!â
âWell, is there any truth to that, âdaddehâ?â
Both Stain and Jane stare at John while waiting for an answer. Stain being completely sure this is some âmeanieâ game the not-nice mister is trying to play. Thereâs no way daddy would eat any of her precious babies!
âNoâ was the answer given by John
Suddenly, it felt as if Stainâs heart had become a stone. Her thinkie place felt like it was pulsing and throbbing as her mind tried to wrap around the fact that her babies, her most precious little babies, were being eaten by her daddy all this time.
âD-Daddeh, Stain nu wike dis gameâ It was something so unbelievable that her mind simply refused to do so. âPwease stop, am scawing babbehsâ
âThatâs enough talkâ Jane said while moving closer to the box. âLetâs see⌠This one!â He picks one foal with a dull red-brown coat. An uproar of scared chirping and screaming ensues
âSCREEE! NU NUM BABBEH! PEEP! PEEP! MUMMAH SAV BABBEH! SCREEE!â
âNU! BABBEH NU! PWEASE DADDEH, BABBEHS NU NUMMIES! BABBEHS FOâ HUGGIES ANâ WUV!â Stain cries in desperation as the other foal scramble about trying to escape the box
âSo what do we do first?â John completely ignores her pleas
âFirst step of cooking live fluffies, evacuationâ
Jane holds the foal over a metal bucket and squeezes him firmly, causing a turret of piss and poop to shoot out despite the previous âscaredy poopiesâ and âpeepeesâ. The foal is left dazed by the ordeal, now simply âhuuhuuingâ and weeping
âNext, tie them upâ Jane uses the steel rope to tie the foal, who quietly complains about âhuwtiesâ. âThen a quick dip in the ethanol tubâ
âNU! WAWA BAD FOâ BABBEH!â Stain screams, her other foals now back to cowering behind her
âMake sure their not too dry or dampâ she is ignored
âYouâre not taking the fluff off?â
âNah, thatâs the secret to getting this rightâ
Jane hangs the foal on the drying rack, pulling out a box of matches
âI think i know where this is goingâ John said, already sounding disappointed
âDonât be like that, check it outâ Jane light a match. âTrick shotâ and then flicks it at the foal
In the mareâs perspective, the match appears to fly in slow motion, slowly making itâs way to her baby. Until it finally connects
âSCREEEEEEEEEEEEE!â
The foal, previously too hurt to speak loudly, now screams at the top of its tiny lungs as his body is set ablaze. Itâs a horrible, guttural scream of pure agony, as his every nerve in his body sends spikes of pure pain
âNUUU! BABBEH! BABBEH! DADDEH! BABBEH TU HUWTIES! SAV BABBEH! PWEASE!â Stain cries out in pure desperation
John only casts a cold side glance to her, and she knows she wonât be getting any help from him. She can only watch in silent horror as her precious baby is consumed by the flames, her other babies hugging her tightly for confort
âmuâŚmmaâŚhâ is the last word to come out of his mouth
ââŚ29 âŚ30!â Jane quickly takes the foal off the drying rack and dias him in a cold water, letting it rest for a few seconds, and taking it out
âSo, what do you think?â He displays the charred foal to John
âItâs a rockâ He says, and indeed, the foal now looks like a piece of charcoal
âOn the outside, BUT, if you peel away the skinâŚâ he peels the foal like an orange, the skin easily giving way to revealâŚ
âNo wayâŚâ John can only express his disbelief
The meat is a perfect brown, and the smell is simply perfect. The foal has been cooked to perfection
âSomething about their fluffâs composition does thatâ he takes off one of the legs. âI wonât pretend to understand all that sciency stuff. Wanna piece?â John takes another leg and bites it. The meat only lacks in seasoning, but that can easily be solved another time
Stain watches in with complete terror and disbelief plastered on her face as her âmonster daddyâ and his friend eat her baby. The sight being nothing less than completely repulsive, the closest thing to hell her tiny mind can possibly imagine
âAnd you just have to dip them and light them up?â John says in a good mood, this could take hours off of his day
âThereâs a bit more trick to it, but donât worryâ
He moves to pick another foal, the puke green one this time
âNU! NU! NUUUU!â Stain can only scream, her babies begging her to save them and their brother
âWe have plenty of attemptsâ
For the next half an hour or so, Stain had to watch as, one by one, her babies were taken from her. Each begging to be saved, each meeting a horrifying and painful death. The two men experimented on each one, injecting spices, changing the time they stayed cooking, making them eat different stuffings. The last to be taken was her filly, the who looked so much like her, who asked her if she didnât love her anymore for not saving her
âSo, whaâd you think? Worth coming all the way here?â Jane asked while both sat down, drinking water
âIâd say soâ John responds, he was in a really good mood after learning this new trick
âb-babbehsâŚ?â Stain was the only one there who wasnât happy. âbabbehs⌠w-whewe⌠babbehsâŚ?â her mind was mostly broken after witnessing the foal barbeque
Jane sighs, getting up from his chair. âYou wanna know where your âbabbehsâ are, shitrat?â
Stain only looks up to face him
âHere, iâll show youâ Jane sucks air into his lungs, gets up to Stainâs face, and loudly belches in her face. âYou can find all the others in daddyâs âwittaboxââ
Itâs only then her mind finally understood and accepted the situation. Her daddy ate her babies. His friend ate her babies. All her other babies were eaten, not gone to nice homes. Her life was a lie. Her chest felt heavier than ever, she no longer shed any tears, no longer weeped or whined. She only had one desire in mind
ââŚwan dieâŚwan dieâŚâ she repeated endlessly
âHehehehe, thatâs what i like to hearâ Jane said in a somewhat maniacal tone
However, seeing Stain like this made John feel⌠empathy. He didnât like fluffies, but he couldnât help but feel sorry for her. He really wasnât a fan of abuse for fun
âWell, I guess thatâs that, sheâs brokenâ said Jane, fully satisfied with himself. âIâll take her off your backâ
âActuallyâ John jumped from his seat and moved to Stainâs box. âI think iâll keep herâ
ââŚWhy?â Jane asked, after all, John said he wasnât into abuse
âWellâŚâ John tried to come up with some bullshit. âIâm gonna get a new breeder, but⌠i think she can still take care of the foals, you get me?â
Janeâs face went from confusion to a look of comprehension
âYes i do~â He was now fully convinced he turned John to the dark side
John took Stain back to his car and left. Jane picked the chared foal skins, and went to his garage. Turning on the lights, the pillowed fluffies he used for fertilizer could now see him. The face of their tormentor causing them to wrigle in terror, their screams muffled by the feeding tubes they had
âHey guys, got some food for youâ
Epilogue
John drove to a nearby FluffMart, one heâd heard treated fluffies more humanely ever since being under new management. He was really just doing this to give himself some peace of mind. Or at least thatâs what he believed
Arriving, he took the closed box, still with all the poop and piss, and put her in the front door. He then waited in his car until one of the employees, a young girl, opened the door and took her. He drove away just as she looked in his direction
Her fate was in their hands now. For now, he needed another breeder
