A few days left and the mare wouldn’t be his problem anymore.
Douglas monitored the fluffies once again from the doorway to the saferoom. The mare’s brood was basically grown at this point; another few days and they would be at full maturity. They were already supposed to be in the barn, yes, but with how the tan colt’s punishment went, he felt it’d be smart to leave them around her to reinforce every single lesson.
Said colt was…well clearly experiencing the fluffy equivalent of PTSD. He looked around rapidly, kept to himself, and seemed too frightened to do anything. He didn’t even venture far from the litterbox in fear of shitting on the ground and getting sent back to see Gabby. Did indeed mean using her as punishment worked, but he needed to restrict it to colts and foals; anything larger would just complicate the process, and there did rest the chance of a fluffy not fearing her.
For now, Douglas chased away those thoughts and looked over the saferoom. It wasn’t looking too perfect; could do with a touch up, and the fluffies needed a bath as well. He could handle the latter first, then just leave them in the bathroom while he went to clean up the saferoom. He also needed to feed Mary, which meant popping into his office. Three big tasks with a lot of smaller ones. So, best to get the hard stuff handled first.
“Alright, toys up. It’s bath time.” He called. The mare was first to look up, and she quickly alerted her brood as well.
“Buh…wawa bad fo’ fwuffie…” The blue colt complained. A glance from Douglas was all it took to get him to bow his head and shut up. Least the fear was working. Douglas pulled the gate to the saferoom free, and he pointed down the hall. They knew the drill and knew what the price of disobedience was. The fluffies moved in a single file line; the mare was at the front, and she moved with clear fear of what came next. He couldn’t care less. Their asses were getting caked with shit again, and he wasn’t investing in a litter pal for them. Those things were just gross, and they usually lasted for a month or so. Money down the drain at that point.
Douglas reached the doorway to the bathroom. The mare and her brood sauntered inside, and the big man closed the door behind them. With the way out sealed, he moved to get the bathtub ready, pouring a little bit of fluffy-safe soap into the tepid water and reaching to scoop up the mare, depositing her into the tub. She clearly looked like she wanted to scream, but remained silent, clearly knowing better. He bathed her quickly and set her out the tub, reaching back to grab one of the colts, namely the blue one.
“NU! WAWA BAD FO’—” Douglas changed his hold to grab the colt by the scruff, leaving him to dangle. “SCREEEEE!!! BAD UPPSIES!”
“Rule three.” He coldly stated. The blue colt’s fears faded for a moment, then curtly intensified.
“Buh…wawa bad fo’ fwuffie…pwease nu sowwy bocks—”
“You should’ve thought of that before you had that outburst.” He opened the bathroom door and stepped back out into the hallway. The colt flailed and squirmed the entire time but was ultimately trapped as the big man made his way to the garage. The door was opened, and Douglas approached the battle-damaged pet carrier left in the center of the room, a reminder of the fate his brother endured. Without a word, Douglas tossed the colt inside and locked the gate, leaving him to cry and bang on it to escape, but to no avail.
“Now, sit there and get cozy while—”
“NU! NU GIB OWWIES TU BABBEH!” He flinched and glanced to the doorway. The mare was there, accompanied by her brood, as she clumsily dropped into the garage and sprinted at the carrier, though with her speed, the sprint was just a fast waddle. The big man cursed under his breath; he must’ve forgotten to close the bathroom and leave them trapped. Honestly, he was surprised she thought to take the initiative and try to actively stop him from disciplining her brood. Still meant he was getting punished, as was she.
The mare reached the carrier and feebly beat on it with her leathery hooves. The commotion roused Gabby from her sleep and the monitor lazily approached the carrier, flicking her tongue out. The sight of the large lizard made the mare’s brood screech and flee to the corner, and for her to screech as well, but stand her ground.
“MUNSTAH! GO ‘WAY MUNSTAH, OW MUMMAH GIB SOWWY POOPIES!” She threatened, shivering in fear.
“Shit on my lizard and we’re gonna have a serious prob—” The mare turned and raised her tail. Douglas’ eyes widened and he shot towards her, swinging his foot to shove the mare to the side, but she still sprayed a jet of vile smelling liquid shit that caught Gabby across the side of her head.
“GABBY!” He shot his hands down to pick up the lizard, ignoring the rancid stench. The entire right side of her head was coated in the shit, and blocked out one of her eyes, causing her to flail her head in confusion and pain. His heart hammered in his chest as he stumbled out the garage, heading for the kitchen to run some warm water and get a rag ready.
The process took a while. He worked with the grace of a surgeon, having to go slow as Gabby was, understandably, freaked out. So was he, he was terrified, but he worked through it and cleaned her head up as best he could, though already he could tell she’d need antibiotics for her eye. Douglas hugged her close, rubbing the back of the monitor’s head and rocking her back and forth. “It’s okay, girl…you’re okay…I’m not letting you get in harm’s way again.” He was fucking careless. So fucking careless. But he let ire get the best of him, and it led to his best friend getting sprayed with rancid, liquid shit!
And then he recalled the mare. And his fear turned to blood-boiling rage. She sprayed his lizard. She disobeyed a command, all to finally be a good mother and save her brood. At the worst possible time! He—
His phone rang. Douglas set Gabby down at the kitchen table and took a seat, digging his phone out and answering it, all while tenderly stroking the lizard’s back to soothe her.
“Douglas? Hey, I got great news!”
“Does jt involve the mare?” Douglas asked, doing his best to mask his rage.
“Sorta. I talked it over with Isabelle, and she’s willing to get a foal. We did some research together, and she wants to get a foal of any color and raise it together. Is that okay?”
Normally, it wouldn’t be okay. Normally, he’d curse his brother out for making him waste his time and demand payment for the days he sank into the mare.
But this wasn’t normal. In fact, those were the magic words.
“Good. Lemme know how it goes. I’ll be in touch, Byron.” He ended the call and carried Gabby to the living room. He set his friend down and let her rest there, giving her one final pat to the head before returning to the garage.
The mare was still beating at the pet carrier, sobbing the whole time. The trapped colt was also crying, while the green and tan fluffies sat in the corner, too terrified to move. The air stunk of shit from the mare’s projectile shit, yet it didn’t even bother him right now.
No, this was a long time coming.
The mare noticed him. “Pwease wet babbeh out, daddeh!” She cried.
“No.” Douglas pushed the garage door, hearing it close with a satisfying clink noise. “Pick one of your babies.”
“Pick babbeh?” She asked.
“One of them gets to go forever sleepies. Pick who gets it.” He sternly said. The waterworks began again, but now he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. In fact, he relished it. She could have easily blinded his pet lizard; hell, she still had a chance of going blind if her eye got infected from her rancid shit water. And, since the mare wasn’t needed anymore, she had only one place left to go, but her brood? The barn wasn’t meant for them now. No, they were to serve as one final lesson.
Never hurt an owner’s best friend.
“Buh…why daddeh mak—”
“Pick one,” He coldly stated. “Or I pick for you, and you don’t want me to pick. So,” He took a step towards the ones in the corner. “pick, or I’m giving them all forever sleepies.” Now they were all crying. Good.
“Buh…mummah nu can pick!” She sobbed. “Babbehs am fo’ wub an’ huggies! Nu foweba sweepies!”
“Great, then they all go forever sleepies.” He brought his foot down on the filly, earning a loud, wet snap. She shrieked her little lungs out as his felt bones snap and organs turn to paste under his boots. It was almost cathartic! He brought his foot up again and delivered another, brutal stomp, doing so two more times before the filly was a bloody, dying mess on the floor. Even with badly shattered forelimbs, she tried to tug herself towards her mother, with the vain hope that she would protect her.
A swift stomp ended that.
“Next,” He turned towards the tan colt. The colt looked up and Douglas swung his foot, denying him a lengthy sequence of killing and instead punted him into the wall. The messy snap and the colt’s body falling to the ground told him the bastard was dead. The fact that his neck was badly bent was icing on the cake.
He turned his attention to the crated colt. The mare intensified her feeble efforts to free him, and Douglas brought that to a halt with a swift kick to her midsection, sending her sailing across the garage to strike the door with a satisfying thud. He had the idea to drag the colt out and stomp him to death, but he had a better idea. One he wanted to try. Douglas grabbed the edges of the carrier and lifted it to eye level. The terrified colt trembled in the back, with a small puddle of piss and shit gathering around him.
“Remember,” He said. “your mother’s the reason this happens.” And he SLAMMED the carrier into the ground. The colt shrieked in blood-curdling agony, and Douglas grabbed it again, repeating the slam several more times. Each time he was rewarded with the sound of the colt’s body slamming into the back of the carrier, and each time the bastard hit it, he sounded bloodier and bloodier, and his cries died down. He slammed the damaged carrier into the ground again and the door swung open on its own. A glance inside showed him the practically pulverized corpse of the blue colt, with visceral splattered and scattered all throughout it. He probably died before he got to slam three.
With the brood dead, Douglas turned his attention to the mare. Her eyes were transfixed to the bloodshed, to the collective deaths of her brood in one fell swoop. “This happened because you were a bad fluffy.” He loomed over her, staring down at the utterly broken biotoy. “You ignored me, and you hurt someone close to me, and so you got to pay the price. This is what happens to bad fluffies, after all.”
“Mummah am bad mummah…babbehs aww fowebah sweepies…” Her sobbing never stopped, and her voice grew more delirious. “Mummah nu can wub an’ huggies babbehs…wan die…wan die…wan die…” And she fell into the loop. Douglas didn’t bother and left to go get the mop.
What he did was a waste of product, yes, and it meant recouping losses was next to impossible, but that was fine. It was okay because it was worth it. Not because of the adrenaline rush abusers got, but from the sense of gratification he got from avenging his lizard. His friend.
As he told his brother, no one hurts Gabby and doesn’t end up screaming through a straw in the hospital. That includes shit rats.
[Short, but violent. Had some bad mojo after playing a MOBA, and this chapter was already planned, so I expedited it and worked on this chapter to not only give some violent fun, but also a bit of Douglas’ soft side and end his whole ordeal with the mare so we can get back to his usual methods.
I do plan to begin new projects soon; I had one that drew inspiration from the now defunct Fluffy Runner, but I’d need to workshop it a bit more. Until then, enjoy this, and let’s hope I don’t get mad at the game again and produce another violence-filled chapter.]
