The warmth is all you’ve ever known, a calm, serene safety surrounds you. Like a huggie that would never let go, you… existed, contently heeding nothing else but other forms that shares your space. A muffled voice can be heard that breaks the comforting silence. Ever present as far as you can remember, yet giving you… happies, like you’re wanted, aching to meet you and even love you.
You squirmed as much as you can, the first time ever that you moved. And as if in reply the voice returned but regarding you. Happiness swells within you as a strange sensation tugs at you. Eventually everything begins to wrap around you tightly then… push.
“B-babbehs nu-huuhuu come out pweEEEEEEESSS”. The dam squirmed flutily swaying in her cramped, shit stained cage. Her face damp with tears as contractions rocks throughout her body.
“T-tummeh babbeh nee’ tu stay wiff Mu-mummah ow munstah take babbeEEEEEEEEESSS”. The dam contracts again, harder this time as her water broke, the first of her babbehs crowns from her worn special-place. Between desperate sobs she feels it pushing it’s way until a wet plap hits the wire mesh that has since been her bedding for many bright times.
“Huuhuu babbeh nee’ mummah, babbeh neeEEEEEEEEEEE”. She contracted as another foal makes it’s way out, falling onto their sibling, peeping and chirping desperately together for their mother’s touch as they wreathed on the wire mesh bottom.
“Huuuhuuu…” She sniffles, as the pain courses through her, her tummeh contracts again as it works to push out another foal. With another wet plap the peeping and chirping only grew behind her. Pleading for her love, her miwkeis as she resigns herself to the pain. “Huuuuhuuuu… babbehs…”
You push back against the tightness as the world you once knew became smaller. It rippled and wreathed pulling you away from your warmth, your safety, yet the voice grew louder and clear. What was once a beckoning call towards a loving embrace became a screaming, agony. It pierced your very core as you too, started to scream at the exact moment you left the warm, gentle place that has been your entire world. For a colder, crueler place wreathing beside others like yourself. Helpless and hungry.
“Babbeh? Babbeh ne-nee’… miwkie…” She tried to shift her weight to face the chirping sounds of her brood but the cage was much too small.
Again, she tried all her might but her leggies are far too short to give her leverage. Leaving her on her side with one tit sagging closer to the mesh flooring but still too high for the chirpies to reach.
“Huuu… babbeh nee’ mummah”. She tries again this time mustering what strength she could, the instinctual need to care for her latest brood pushed her farther than her pain would allow.
Upright but crouching she faces her brood of 8 chirpies, peeping, squirming helplessly as they search for her warmth. She tires to reach out with her stubby hooves but her effort left her stuck up right by the size of the cage. Her terrible posture to the already added to her suffering, watching as her chirpies peeped and cheeped for her. Crawling at many directions as the smell of amniotic fluids is masking her scent, leaving them blind, helpless, together. Suckling on a hoof the dam broke into more crying that provided a much needed call to her chirpies. “Huuuhuuu… mammah nee’ wuv”.
Cold, so cold, the tightness expelled you from the only warmth you’ve ever known. To a world so harsh and so noisy. New sensations overwhelmed your meagre form drowning out all thought from your mind. Smells of amniotic fluid hangs heavy in the air, the deafening cheeping of your broodlings for milk and affection and a blinding whiteness shone where your see places would be, burned intensely.
But the same voice pierced it all, the same voice that pierced you and drag you into cold. Then something deep tugs at you towards it. Why? Why again? It gave you so much heart-hurties as it exiled you from the warmth, it gave you so much heart-hurties when the world greeted you with coldies and noisies. The warmth gave everything, contented for nothing else but the voice took it away. You feel a burning swelling inside you making it’s way up until it over takes you, you hate the voice. You hate it, you hate it, you hate it.
YOU HATE, YOU HATE, YOU HATE, YOU HATE, YOU HATE…
“Babbeh? Mummah am hewe, ne-nee’ miwkies?”. The dam regards her closest chirpie, a scarlet and amber mane earthie. Peeping and chirping almost hoarsely at her.
Seemingly begging for her to feed it, to love it. With renewed strength she moves her leggies in hopes of guiding her one chirpie to her crotch tit, engorged in miwkies from some bright times ago. But her posture and general immobility left her flailing uselessly, accidently kicking a stray chirpie on it’s snout with an audible peep splattering blood all over the already caked cage. “Huuu… no worreh babbeh mummah am hewe”.
You screamed with all your might, yelling back at the voice that betrayed you. Flailing weakly as you crawl towards the source of the voice. The weight of your body and of course your bulbous head made itself known. But you screamed, well cheeped on as you crawl closer. Padded hooves brush against you tumbling to your back then two gripped your head.
Peeping in surprise you feel the rest of your body drag along towards the voice. Does it want to mock you? Tell you that you fell to it’s insidious ruse? In defiance you flailed against it’s grip with all your might but strength falters as a growing pressure surrounds your head. As a new, terrible pain course from your sides as the grip threatens to crush your head. Eliciting more peeps and cheeps as your hate is replaced with the crushing pain.
“Huuu babbeh no nee’ spwowin’ babbeh nee’ miwkies en’ sniff wuv”. In her awkward position the dam clumsily maneuvers her rear leggies to bring her chirpie to her miwkie places as the foal peeps and cheeps in her grip.
Eventually she was able to bring the chirpie mere inches from her tit but her stubby leggies were too short to really reach, loosing her grip on the chirpie. She tries to reach out with her front hooves but flails helplessly instead as her leggies are just too short to reach. Leaving the dam to hope that her babbeh will find it’s way to her tit, to have it suckle on her and cuddle her fluff.
You feel yourself drop making sudden a peep but you are closer now, too close as the voice beckons. And something else… other than the voice another sensation makes itself known, as you take in this scent. Unlike the voice it fills you with reassurance, how can this be? The duel feelings of both hate for it’s voice yet comfort in it’s smell rocks you but instinct took hold and you push towards them.
On instinct, you bump on soft tit flesh as you knead with your tiny hooves and latch on the fleshy mound. Then a torrent of familiar warmth flows to your being. You suckle upon it deeply taking it in as if you’d lose it forever. The feelings of fullness crept slowly the more you drank yet at the same time screaming at your core. But your strength fades as the fullness reached it’s zenith letting go of the small mound and fell gently where you stood. Fading into a deep sleep as the warmth returns but the feelings safety never came.
A tall lanky man in a lab coat stood at front of a set of cages all huuhuuing as a new round of litters for testing are being birthed. He regards behind the mare’s offspring taking careful note on the litter of 8 minus 1 foal that C-33 had made.
“Larger than the last batch, good.” He then shown a light from his pocket light for a better view. “Four are exploring and peeping around the cage, good, three others are only peeping, not good further examination needed.” Opening the grate for a closer look he sees the small earthie foal chirping loudly before latching on a tit, suckling deeply.
“One with a healthy appetite, very good, ahem C-33 you’ve made some decent foals, especially that one.” Pointing at the earthie now sleeping on it’s side, chest rising and falling with it’s round milk gut making itself known however making no effort to cling to it’s mothers fluff… interesting.
“Fank ‘ou doctah sniff wiw see-twee twee keep babbeh fow wong time?” The mare hopefully asked, knowing that the doctah is the nicer of the human munstahs. Trying to beam towards him but her posture left her hunchback and aching.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that girl.” The doctor says feigning regret he opens the mesh grate, carefully wiping away the amneotic fluids and rotating the now clean chirpies around her tits making sure that they’re all fed.
The livelier one chirps in disapproval as it’s made to share with it’s siblings. Then scooping out the dying foal that had it’s head smashed somewhat by her inattentive mother. “Shame, for this one.” Musing over the injured foal. “You should’ve been more careful C-33, we don’t want to discipline you every time you hurt your babies?” The doctor says in a cold and stern voice making the dam wince at his words.
“N-nuu, was onwy twi’en to geev miwkie tu babbeh, tu widdle tu finm mummah” the dam says shivering as she vividly recalls her past beatings, when she was a new breeder mare taken in for the Nursery. The sorry stick was fresh in her mind as it cracks on her tender flesh for rejecting her poopie-babbeh from an earlier litter.
“Oh I hope so, I wouldn’t want to bring you back to the Meat Locker if you ever misbehave” he says coldly feigning disappointment at her.
“N-nuu no wan, no wan fwuffy tu go back tu mee’ wockew no wan” holding back unbidden tears tightly behind sore eyes as the memory of a dank musky smell and the cries of unseen mares wash over her as a torrent of dread that made her body visibly shiver. “Huuuhuuu no wan, no wan” crying to herself softly.
“As long as you remember the rules, right girl?” the doctor says in a sincere tone, stroking the fluff of the mare then gently adjusting her position so that she’s lying her back on an incline plane. Her crotch tits facing forward with her head and upper torso reclines back comfortably. Elevating the pain from her poor poster and recent birthing. “Cite them for me please” He says coldly before piercing his gaze at her.
“Huuhuu o-otay doctah, huuhuu, fwuffy nu huwt poopie babbeh ow wingie en’ pointeh babbeh, fwuffy nu hab bestes’ babbeh ow pwetty babbeh huuuhuuu, en-en huuhuu”. She broke down crying as she dreads the words that she was about to say.
But the doctor leers at her reluctance while keeping an almost impassive face. Whining she gave in as fresh tears flows anew. “Fu-fwuffy nu am mummah onwie fow miwkies en makin’ tummeh babbehs”. She says, defeated, taking in gulps of air in between sobs as if she’s trying to swallow the heart-hurties that bobs at her throat.
“Very good C-33 you’ve been paying very close attention” he says in a cheery tone but his face stayed cold throughout. He sighs as he turns his head away from the mare looking at the empty cage beside hers then looking back. “However, from now on we must follow a new rule C-33”. He pulls down his glasses rubbing the bridge of nose then continues. “Now repeat after me, fwuffy wiw not eat babbehs” his voice stayed stern throughout.
The mare however is shaking from the implication that she would do such a heinous thing and wanted to tell the doctor that she is a good fluffy who did everything she can and told to, being a good fluffy. “Nu-nuuu nu am bu-bad fwuffy, nu num babbeheeheees”. She broke down crying, the idea of eating her own foals weighs on her too much. For since as a filly she’s fearful of being a brood mare for the Meat Locker where their foals were most definitely being made into food and kibble.
The doctor sighs as he rubs her stained fluff gently almost cooing to calm her down. “There there, as long as you’re a good fluffy which you are”. He reassures her as he punctuates it with more gentle rubs. “I guess you wanted to know why I’d ask you this”. He says his rubbing slows as he goes deep into thought on how he can tell her gently.
She nods at him, appreciative of his touch and the gesture of being informed. “Remember your cell mate? C-32?” He gingerly rubs her fluff before we pulls it back locking eyes with her as he gestures to the empty cell to his right.
“Sew mate?” She said not fully understanding the question until memories returned to her of a voice of another fluffy dam. She continued “yuss doctah, dats am fwuffies fwen, we talkies aw dah time”. She beams recollecting the gentler parts with her friend. Hoping that they’d run away and live with their babbehs away from the hurties and no smell pretties. And maybe ask her to be her special friend and sleep in a fluff pile with their babbehs together.
“Shit” he says in a quiet tone his cold demeaner vanishes a little as he measures on how to handle this. “She has been a bad fluffy dear”. Exaggerating his speech like they’re children in the playground swapping rumours, he continues. “And you want to know why?”.
The dam shivers at his words, tears flowed anew as her fluffy mind tries to piece together what had happened to her cell mate. Sniffling she locks eyes with the impassive human. “Sh-she nummie’d babbehs, she bu-bu-bad fwuffy”. She spoke between broken sobs heart broken by her heinous deed.
Is that why she was so silent for 1 and 1 bright times? Ashamed for eating her babbehs? But there’s so many nummies and wawas for them. As well as no taste pretty nummies that the doctor and others like him would give. Saying it would make your babbehs big and strong.
Seemingly perceptive of the fluffy’s thoughts he tells her. “Yes, she ate her babbehs because she thought that she can keep them forever in her tummy. But she gave them many hurties and owies that her babbehs are forever sweepies”. The dams spine runs cold as he says it trembling in disbelief from the words he spoke.
“For that we sent her to the Meat Locker, where all bad fwuffies go”. He says, his stoic demeanor remains despite his attempts in sounding mischievous. But the damage has been done as the dam broke down. Sobbing quietly for her friend knowing that she will never see her again.
The doctor sighs knowing that you can’t explain anything without sugar coating it. That’s how fluffies are he wonders to himself. But treatment of the breeder mares of earlier cycles has made him and his staff weary from their constant grief and sorrow. So elected a policy that would encourage approved amounts of engagement to make the process far less daunting.
Regardless the foals from this cycle of selected mares bore fruit so at least there’s a silver lining. He can finally continue on with his experiments with the new batch of test subjects for genetic and cybernetic modifications. Months of work will finally pay off. Wandering away deep in thought from C-33 and her cell as his mind gradually filled with the hypothetical and some leaning on deranged.
Defeated the dam quietly sobs facing the ceiling of her cage. Her reflection barely visible on the cloudy metal surface. Staring back is a broken mare who had her last light snuffed out. Taking no heed of anything not even the gentle chirps of her foals or the burps of their full bellies. She simply lied there for many forevers with only her haggard breathing keeping her company. Dark thoughts would soon blossom, to eat her own foals so that she can join her special friend to whatever place the forever sweepies would take fluffies.
But the sting of guilt will always well up inside her, she loves her babbehs even though they are no longer hers. Suckling on a hoof she resigns on the hopelessness. Eyes closing tightly dreaming of play and love with her special friend C-32, dancing under a blindingly bright sky over a hard grey plain that goes on all directions. Their foals playing together in a pile of monochrome, nummie kibble fall onto great piles as wawa bottles stretches high towards the light. Poopies nummie’d by the grey floor and air devoid of any sicky smells.
A paradise only to a fluffy never knowing of any else, not of tasty nummies, not of soft nestie, not of pretty smells, not of gamsies or toysies. All denied to her and all near impossible to imagine. Worst of all she will never know the color of her fluff or the fluff of her babbehs. Seeing only in shades of grey from poor lighting and eyesight. Then the sadness lulls her to sleep taking her to this paradise. Until many bright times after she’s given new tummeh babbehs unceremoniously planted by a turkey baster full of seed. Beginning the cycle a new.
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