Lucas…had a problem.
Anger was a terrible thing, a poison that seeped into you and ruined everything. Especially when driving. Just one shitty driver cutting him off, or traffic taking too long due to construction and someone sitting a bit too long at a light that changed and he’d be fuming. Fantasizing about all the things he’d do to the other driver.
And when he was almost home from his 2 hour commute each way? He’d hit the bar. A beer or two, nothing serious. Just enough to take the edge off so he could unwind a little before he got home. It kinda worked, until that asshole cop pulled him over and he blew just enough over the limit.
He barely managed to keep his job, and had to carpool with Brenda for those thirty painful days. Brenda who couldn’t shut up about her kids like they came from upon high instead of out of her vag. It was torture of the worst sort. When he’d gotten his license back? He practically kissed it.
He’d been good for a few weeks. Pratciacally a saint. Then new construction required a detour that added half an hour, had him waking up at 5 in the goddamn morning to gurantee he’d make it on time. He could feel the old anger, coiling in the back of his mind.
Which was why on his way home, he stopped to buy a six pack. He wasn’t going to go through it all at once. No, he was going to ration it. He knew it would provide relief. Hell, he practically didn’t need it for the first hour of his commute home.
Then some bitch in a SUV with a “My kid is an honor student at whogivesafuck elementary” cut him off from being able to pass the slowest tractor trailer ever.
Lucas…needed some relief. He couldn’t get it while driving. He was angry, but he wasn’t STUPID. He saw a rest stop to pull into that seemed deserted, shutting off the engine. He tried the breathing exercises his support group suggested first. And yeah, that didn’t fucking work. So with a trembling hand, he reached for the sixpack and took a can, popping the tab.
She didn’t like the dark tiny housie. She couldn’t run or play OR give huggies and that was the worstest thing EVER. She knew she was supposed to be able to do that! That was what fluffies were for! She was supposed to have a mummah who sang mummah songs and bwuddas and sissies who played huggie tag and then drank milk and slept in a fluffpile.
But instead? Before her see places had even opened she was picked up by something big and sprayed with something cold and wet, and roughly dried off with something that wasn’t fluff. She peeped and chirped, but mummah wasn’t helping her! And her tummy was grumbling. She got a taste of something yucky but her tummy didn’t hurt as much.
Whatever went in her poopie place and her pee pee place though? That hurt the worstest. She chirped and peeped…and no one came to help her. She couldn’t even really crawl, only get to the not mummah that gave her yucky not milk, and rest on the bad nest that wasn’t like a fluffpile.
And she didn’t have room even to stretch her wingies.
And when her eyes opened? It was even WORSE. She was in the dark. “Scawwy…mummah…Hewp!” she called, peeping and chirping when that didn’t work. And it never did. So all she could do? Was drink the yucky not milk. At least the thing in her poopie place and her pee pee place made it so her dark times housie didn’t smell like poopie or pee pee.
The little fluffy had no idea how many bright times or dark times had passed. It felt like forever in the dark tiny housie. But then…a hiss and the not milk giver? Lifted up and there was LIGHT.
Lucas looked down into the can. Inside was a fluffy, bubblegum pink with a blue tail and little tiny wings. It looked up at him with big eyes, as if it was staring in the face of god himself. “Nice mistuh be nyu daddeh fow fwuffy?” the fluffy said in that squeaky voice they all shared while her front legs were going into an upsies pose. Lucas lifted up the opaque walls of the can then carefully lifted up the pink fluffy, the fecal extractor and catheter working their way out.
This was the bestest bright time EVER. She had a new daddy! He was taking her out of the dark times housie and the things were out of her poopie place and pee pee place and her wingies had room to move and they were practically buzzing with how much they were moving and she was going to FLY with how much heart happies she had! Her new daddy was holding her so carefully in one hand, reaching down to give her pets on her tummy and she was wiggling her legs with joy and…and why was new daddy not giving her pets? Why was he going for one of her huggie legs?
Lucas looked down at it. Pink and blue, and a pegasus. Just the kind of fluffy that the bitch who cut him off would probably bring home for one of her crotch droppings to love and coo over. It just took a second, and he reached down, grabbing the right front leg and with a quick motion broke it, the delicate fluffy bone snapping like a twig.
“SCREEEEE!” The little fluffy cried, her eyes clenching shut as she felt her front leggie snap. “Wh…why nice mistuh huwt fwuffy? Jus wan nyu daddeh!” She protested. It had to be some kind of mistake! Fluffies were for huggies and love! Even she knew that! “Pwease…pwease nice mistuh no huwt fwuffy…” Her see places opened just a little bit. The nice mister was smiling! Maybe he’d realized he was sorry? That HAD to be it. “Fw…fwuffy wub nyu daddeh…” she said, trying to smile despite the pain to her leg.
It wasn’t enough. Oh, it was a moment’s relief but Lucas needed more. Cradling the pink pegasus in one hand, he reached into his cupholder, getting a toothpick that he had gotten as an afterthought at lunch. Nothing had gotten stuck in his teeth but now? Now it would have another use. Tightening his grip on the fluffy, he took the toothpick and with one motion? Plunged it deep into one of her three holes.
“SCREEE! WAI DADDEH PUT BAD TING INTO FWUFFY’S POOPIE PWACE?!?” the fluffy screamed, their rescuer and da…no, this wasn’t a daddy. This was a monster. A horrible monster. The toothpick had gone deep into the tiny fluffy’s body, puncturing organs and releasing fluids into her body that shouldn’t be outside of where they should be. Boo boo juice was already leaking from her poopie place and she didn’t feel pretty at all. And the monster’s grip was getting tighter and she couldn’t move her wings and her broken leg was hurting the worstest and she kept TRYING to call out for someone to save her.
Fluffies were for huggies, not hurties! But the monster wasn’t done. She was about to shout at the monster, only getting out “Pwease no huw” before the burny thing that touched her tounge turned that into another SCREEE and her tounge was burned, stuck to the cigarette lighter for a second before the monster roughly yanked it free, taking most of her tongue with it.
She had been talky, but now? The pink pegasus could only manage chrips and peeps, and even that was hard without her tongue. And now…now the monster was taking her out…she could see green stuff…and sky…and…
She didn’t get time to finish that thought. Lucas closed his hand tightly around the fluffy, crushing the biotoy and forcing innards up through its mouth and out through its ass. His hand was covered in fluffy blood and who knew the fuck what else but after chucking the dead biotoy in the trash and washing his hands in the rest stop bathroom?
Yeah, he actually felt pretty damn calm. One of these a night? And he could make a six pack last a week. It was cheaper than beer, and even better no risk of getting pulled over.
And as he finished his commute, Lucas didn’t even have to swear when someone else did something boneheaded, or curse and pound the steering wheel. Pulling into the driveway? He felt the calmest he had in years.
It just took finding a healthy outlet.
And he had five more for the rest of the week.
