You are Thrash, a run away Fluffy. Your daddeh became stupid and he refused to give you the yummies and mares you deserve. Exploring your new domain you smell something not pretty but also pretty?
A dummy poopie mare with stupid poopie munsta babbehs. They cry and chirp for milkies and hugs. You give one munsta babbeh forever sleepies then you see the filly. She is very pretty, small but pretty, she’ll be a good special friend who will give pretty babbehs.
You mount her, but she must be a dummy as well. She doesn’t feel good at all. Her body is cold and wet, even loose. These are not good feels, not good feels at all.
Then you feel it, a hurtie in your nono stick. It spreads, dull cold, not nice. It grows in sensation.
Your special place has worstest hurties now, it’s all over, your lumps, your tummy, your poopie place, everywhere on your body.
Now you’re being pulled by your nono stick given bad uppies high in the air, the worstest hurties became some how more worstest.
There in front of you, is the dummeh mare but she is no longer forever sleepy and is staring at you. The hurties are there but now you feel something awful, you want your daddeh back, you want to be a good fluffy, you don’t want this.
Thrash and his mind are gone silently bargaining for the return of his old life. The munsta only thinking of it’s hunger. It’s poopie place begins throbbing and prolapsing into an awful tube.
A sharp yanking pain snaps Thrash back to his horrid reality as he falls with a sick wet slap. He quivers and cries begging his daddeh to save him, to get one last huggie, to say sorry.
The mouth of the tube folds shut all light is gone if Thrash could he’d scream but he can’t the tube tightens and then twists, contorting him snapping bones and squeezing fluids out of the fluffy.
Soon the tube began to retreat back into the rectum of the mimic, the mouth seal holding tight trying to hold as much blood and marrow as it can.
It now begins squeezing out the exsanguinated Thrash like a mummified stillborn.
Then it pulls it’s freakish appearance back into it’s non threatening form, extra tendrils slide out and begin shaping new faux foals into tricking more prey, the false mare will now carry her little ones to a new hunting ground.
