Little Laguna, Chapter 5 (Noodle)

“Nyu fweins?”

I had walked into the saferoom with the five foals in tow. Laguna, who was already up but still lounging in his bed, was roused into action the moment he heard the door open.

“Daddeh! Su happies tu cee yu! Peep! Wan hugg–Sniff… Sniff–” his happy face begins to contort into one of confusion. “Daddeh, yu smeww wike fwuffies…?” He says, as he watches me kneel down at the feeding area.

“Well, my little Laguna, that’s because Daddy’s got some fluffies for us to play with!” I exclaim, while fiddling with the bottle holder, placing 3 bottles of milk on it.

“Nyu fweins?” He asks, getting up out of his bed, and trotting over to me. I reach over and give him a few finger rubs under his chin, before flashing the foals rolled up in my shirt.

“I don’t know, I guess we will just have to find out, huh?” I say, flashing him a playful smirk.

“Whoooaaaa… bunchies of widdwe babbehs… am suuuu esited!” He says as he begins tapping his hooves back and forth. He stops abruptly, and then asks, " whewe Daddeh fine chiwpeh babbehs? Whewe am dewe mummah?"

I look him up and down, with a stern look. “You ask too many questions, you know that?”

Peep! Daddeh nu wike qwues’en? Huu… nyu wuwe?” He asks with a shiver and a frown.

“Haha I love you, you whiney bastard. No, no rule. You just remind me why I keep you around. Just come here and take a look at em,” I say, pulling Laguna over closer to me, and start grabbing the babies out, one by one, to inspect them before I start placing the foals on the ground in front of the bottles. The bestest babbeh was a filly, and so was the white pegasus. The red and purple foals were colts, as well as the runt. Laguna walks over and gives each baby a sniff, starting with the purple and red foals, nodding his head after he is done. He then smells the white foal and gets a flustered look on his face, which i found pretty strange. He hilariously completely skips the poopy baby, but when he sniffs the maroon foal, he gives me a disgusted look. “What the hells wrong with that one?” I ask.

“Dat babbeh smeww wike miwkies… wike, a wot o’ miwkies. Yuckies.” He says, before dry wretching.

“What’s your deal with milk, man? You hate that shit or what?” While im not surprised the bestest baby smells the most like milk, I’m genuinely confused at this point. Don’t these fuckers love “mummah’s miwkies”?

“Waguna nu wike miwkies… Peep! Hafta smeww it an’ tase it aww bwight and sweepy times, whiwe in da sowwy cansie. Nu wike nasty, stupie miwkies.” He says, stomping his foot to drive the point home.

“Huh, interesting. I guess if I was stuck in a can and had my food stuck to my face all day long, I’d probably get tired of the shit too.” I pinch the bottle tips and get then ready for the chirpies to eat. As the milk drips from the tips, the foals start sticking their heads up in unison, and start chirping and waddling to the delicious scent wafting in front of them, before they begin clumsily crawling towards the tantalizing aroma. Unsurprisingly, the brown runt is lagging behind the more well taken care of the foals, but what I did find peculiar was the bestest baby was also lagging behind, taking winding routes instead of a roughly straight course like the first three. The red unicorn was the first to make it to a bottle, quickly followed by the white pegasus and the purple earthie, respectively. Me and Laguna were pretty entranced by the whole thing, silently watching on with a growing interest. The poopy baby finally makes it to a bottle, a little too late, as the red unicorn greedily sucks down the milk. As the runt starts pawing at his brother, the unicorn kicks down hard, well hard for a Fluffy foal to his weak runt of a brother, sending the runt into a peeping frenzy, while slowly rocking back and forth.

Chuckle Get fucked, loser,” I say, as I laugh at the scene in front of us. Laguna looks at the two brothers, and then back at me, a nervous smile creeping across his lips.

“Hee… heehee… Peep! Babbehs am funny, wite daddeh?” He says, trying to gauge my reaction.

“Haha you see the way he clobbered that little guy? Classic.” I reach over and give Laguna a playful nudge.

“Teehee! Peep! Siwwy babbeh, nee’ wait yu tuwn!” He chuckles, looking up at me.

As we laugh about the two brothers, the bestest babbeh finally made it to a bottle, with the white pegasus. While the bestest tried the same tactic as it’s poopy brother, it went a lot better for her, as with her being the bestest, which meant being better fed, she was marginally bigger than her sister, and easily kicked and pushed the pegasus off the bottle, earning her a song of sad, frantic peeps from the pegasus to play in the background of her newly acquired meal. Right as I was about to chuckle at this new development, Laguna’s eyes grew wide, and almost as if his body responded on its own, quickly ran over to the two sisters, knocking the bestest off the bottle, and then putting his arms around the white pegasus.

“Dewe, dewe babbeh, nu wet meanie sissy huwt babbeh whiwe habbin’ miwkies,” he says softly, while patting his hooves on her back and guiding her back to the bottle. He looks at the maroon foal and says “Ba’ babbeh! Nee’ wait yu tuwn! Peep!”, and she starts a peeping fit of her own while rubbing her nose. Right as I was about to interject, the white foal starts to open its eyes.

Peep… Mummah? Chirp! Daddeh…?”, as she starts looking up at Laguna.

Chirp! Daddeh! Babbeh open see pwaces! Peep!” he says excitedly as he looks at me, still hugging the white foal.

Chirp! Wub… huggies! Peep!” She says, as she snuggles deeply into Laguna.

“Wub huggies babbeh, tuu!”, he quips back.

“Well I’ll be damned, what a roller coaster–” I say before I’m, once again, cut off.

Peep! Huwties… hewp! Chirp!”, cries the best baby, who has opened her eyes, that were hidden underneath her hooves. After writhing for a few more seconds, she rolls her self over and looks around while sniffing the air. “Sniff sniff …miwkies?”, she says, before crawling towards the bottle that Laguna is helping the pegasus attach to. Before Laguna can stop her, I snatch up the bestest by her scruff. “Chirp! Ba’ upsies! Chirp! Peep! Hewp… Peep!” she cries, soiling the ground with scardy poops and pee, looking around frantically for her mother to save her. I take advantage of this to have some fun with the foal, and I then bring her to my face, so she gets a good look at me.

“There is no mummah here. No one is going to help you,” I tell her as menacingly as i could muster, without laughing. She struggles and peeps in my grasp, a look of terror plastered on her face. “You’ve been a very BAD baby!”

Chirp! Mummah! Peep! Chirp! Sabe… Peep! …babbeh! Peep!” Man, these things pick up talking pretty fast when their eyes open. Now, I wanna see if I can rope Laguna into being “toughie”, and get him used to hurting fluffies at my command. With him being young, and seemingly desperate for approval, if I can guide him in just the right way, instead of scaring him from the idea, hopefully I can get him to justify it, and subtly lower his tolerance towards violence. I know it’s probably asking a lot out of these idiotic creatures, but it’s worth a shot.

“Laguna!” I bark at him, which quickly gains his attention.

“Y-yus Daddeh?” He wearily asks.

“This baby hurt her sister who was eating first, and then pooped and peed on the floor! Is that what a good Fluffy does?”

“Nu daddeh! Peep! Dat am bad fwuffy tings!” He replies steadfast.

“That’s right! And what happens to bad fluffies who break the rules?”

“Dey get huwties!” He quickly replies.

“That’s right, good job Laguna!” I give him a light chin scratch as he beams at me with pride. “Now, it’s time for you to punish the bad baby, Laguna.”

Laguna is visibly stunned, and takes a step back. “B-b-buh Da-Daddeh… Chirp! Yu wan Waguna tu huwt babbeh? B-b-buh babbehs am fow huggies and wub, nu am fow huwties… wite?”, he asks, lightly shivering.

“Now Laguna, you remember the rules?” I say to him.

“Yus daddeh… awways wisten tu daddeh…” He says solemnly with his head down.

“C’mon, Laguna, don’t be like that! If you do this, it teaches them to be a good fluffy! You’re doing a good thing! And besides, you already did it when you knocked her off the bottle,” I remind him.

“Oh, yeh…” He says, not fully convinced.

Tsk I thought you wanted to be strong and tougher, but now I see you really didn’t mean it. Sigh Ok then, I guess daddy will have to find another fluffy to be brave and tough for Daddy…” I say, trying reverse psychology. Laguna’s face changes to one more resolute in response.

“Nu! Waguna am toughie! Waguna wiww show Daddeh!”, he says, now fired up and stomping his hoof.

“Alright, show me what you got, buddy. I’m counting on you,” I say with a wink and a devious smile, before placing the thrashing maroon filly on the ground. Almost instantly after I let go, she starts crawling back to the bottle her sister is at, and right as she is about to knock her sister off again, Laguna brings his hoof down on her nose.

Chirp! SKREEEEE! HEWP! PEEP! HUWTIES! CHIRP!”, cries the bestest, as she puts her hooves over her head, in an attempt to hide from her attacker. Laguna then pushs and rolls the baby on its back, before putting his right hoof down on her chest to hold her in place. She begins thrashing her hooves, and screaming “SKREEEE! HEWP! MUMMAH! CHIRP CHIRP PEEP!”, and is now starting to scare the still chirpy brothers, who are crawling towards each other to comfort, and be comforted by each other. Laguna then puts his left hoof on the bestest’s throat, and begins pressing down, causing her to begin choking and gasping, pawing at his hoof on her neck to try and get it off so she can draw in breath.

“NU MOWE BEING WOUD! YU AM SCAWE YU SISSY AN’ BWUDDAS! Peep! You am ba’ babbeh! Yu am wait yu tuwn fo’ miwkies!”, He shouts down at her, his wings splayed out wide, probably in an attempt to make himself look bigger and more intimidating. He then takes his hoof off her neck, before slapping her on the nose with it.

“Huuhuuhuu! Peep! Huwties! Sabe babbeh!” the filly shouts out, crying and peeping at its abuser and the fact no one has come to save her.

“Yu am ba’ babbeh! Nee huwties!” He says, smacking her again, and then again. He hits her one more time in the face, as the bestest devolves into just peeps and chirps, before I grab him up off of her.

“Alright! Alright, you did it,” I tell him as I move him back over to the white pegasus, who is cowering under her hooves by herself. “You did good, bud, you did really good. Now, give the other babies some comfort while I deal with the bad baby.”

He starts to wind down, and looks behind him at the shaking white filly, and trots over and puts his arms around her, cooing and saying “dewe dewe, it am otay, Waguna wiww protect white babbeh.”

“Scawey! Peep!”, and then she nuzzles into him and coos back.

I wait a little bit while the first three to feed, before rotating them with Laguna, the runt, and the bestest. The bestest finally calms her tantrum as she begins guzzling down the milk, like it was going to be her last meal. So did the runt, as it probably never got enough milk to be full from his mother. I then peel them off gently and place them in the foal pile that was formed from their two brothers and sister, before looking to Laguna.

“Daddy has to run to the fluffy store. We need some more supplies since we have more friends. Can I trust you yo watch over the babies, and protect them while I’m gone?” I ask him.

“Chirp! Yus, daddeh! Waguna be bestest toughie fo’ babbehs!”, he says, looking up at me, and proudly flapping his wings.

“Good, good. There’s enough milk for everyone there, make sure everyone gets what you think is fair. Daddy will be back before you know it!” I then turn around, and walk out the door, closing it behind me. After doing my “get ready ritual”, I’m grabbing my car keys and head out the door. I get in my car and start driving to the fluffmart that’s about 10 minutes from my house and I begin to make a mental checklist of what I need in my head. A few more beds, two for the adults, and maybe one for the other foals. Some more bottle stands maybe. Some more kibble, and maybe some cans of spaghetti if they have some. Maybe some toys. Litterbox. Definitely some sorry boxes, and maybe some other, er, disciplinary tools. Unfortunately, this fluffmart doesn’t sell fluffies, and is only for fluffy supplies. And the only shelter was about 45 minutes away from my house, which left the ‘foal in a can’ vending machine the closest place to get a fluffy near me. I then pull up to the store, and go inside. My eyes are then assaulted by pastel and neon colors and lights of all kinds everywhere, causing me to squint my eyes a little. Aisles of bright pink, yellow, and purple accessories every where you can look. Fluffies like this shit, since I heard its because they have pretty bad eyesight, and the bright colors are not only cute to them, but also easier for them to see. As I try to get my bearings straight, and figure out where to possibly find anything in this gods forsaken nightmare place, I’m approached by a middle aged woman, with a bright pink shirt and a plastic smile, the name “Shannon” written on her name tag.

“Well howdy there! Now what brings you in here this lovely day?”, she asks in an exaggerated tone.

Not wanting to waste any time, I begin listing off all the things I need, and also letting her know my fluffy situation, while omitting a few details of course.

“So, you think you can point me in the right direction? I’m kinda in a hurry,” I tell her, after letting her know what I was looking to buy.

She flashes me a bigger smile, and says “Tell you what, I’ll take you down to the discipline aisle, and I’ll just grab the other things you need while you browse. And don’t worry, that aisle isn’t nearly as harsh to look at,” giving me a wink and a gentle nudge.

“Thank you! How do you work here and deal with this bright and tacky shit day in and out?” I ask, as I squint my eyes and cover my eyes in mockery of the bright and cherry atmosphere.

“I usually keep my eyes on the ground. It’s much easier on the eyes,” she says with a laugh. “When I saw you, I was just glad to see something normal haha.” She then guides me over to the discipline section. “I’ll be back shortly with the rest of the stuff and to check on you. Have fun!”

“Thanks a lot! And you better not load me up with the expensive stuff! And nothing tacky!” I say with a wave.

“Of course not,” she replies with a wink, and walks out of the aisle. I then begin taking a look at all of things they have.

Over 20 different kinds of sorry sticks. From thick paddles, to some that are smooth or studded, and even spiked, to thin switch like whips, again some ribbed and some with spikes, some just smooth or coarse with nothing else. Sprays and aerosols of all kinds, made to to temporarily blind fluffies, or just in general spray them with unsavory smells, with some designed to train fluffies to hate spaghetti, and even other fluffies. Shock collars, de-leggy kits, butt plugs. And lastly, sorry boxes. There was some standard sorry boxes, just a black plastic box with breathing holes, or a see through one. There was crazy ones too, one that made noises, sprayed water, vibrated, all kinds of annoying and disruptive things to happen at random intervals to be set by the owner. More sadistic boxes, with sharp spikes at the bottom, or some that would get very hot or cold with a push of a button. What got my attention was a pretty simple sorry box at first glance. Inside, it had a rack about 1/3 up from the bottom, that holds up a thin cross, made of connecting metal rods. Once set up, it forces a Fluffy into a standing position the entire duration, the victim unable to lie down, sit down, or just at all try to get comfortable. Pretty fucking neat, I thought. I grab two adult size ones, and 2 foal sized ones, as well as a few other “toys” and tools. As I waltz out of the aisle, I see Shannon walking over with a cart full of goods that I needed. I take a look at the inside of her cart and could see that it had everything I needed.

“Well it looks like you are definitely set. I got some non-tacky beds, food, litter box, some other knick-knacks, and I also got you a mummah-milker. Figured you might find it useful for your runt at home. Now is there anything else?”

“Yeah, I guess I should get a couple of real toys, too,” I respond. She then leads me down the toy aisle, where I get a cheap set of blocks, a hacky sack ball that doesn’t roll very well, and a fluffy shaped stuffed animal. We then make our way to check out, so I can pay and be on my way. After she rings me up and bags up my items, I tell her as I’m loading my bags into the cart, “I really appreciate the help. Make sure to tell the manager that I think you deserve a raise,” I say with a chuckle.

“I am the manager, but I’ll keep that in mind,” Shannon replies with a wink and laugh, as she waves me out the door.

Back in the saferoom, all of the babies have opened their eyes and have already explored the saferoom under Laguna’s careful watch. Now most of them were engaged in some kind of play. The three brothers were playing with a ball, clumsily pushing it back and forth, giggling and exclaiming “wub!” and “baww!” Laguna and the white pegasus were playing with blocks, stacking them up one after the other together, giggling. Only the bestest didn’t join in on playing, instead choosing to lazily lie down in the tunnel facing the milk bottles, and blocking the entrance from the others. The brown runt eventually crawled over to the bestest.

Peep! Sissie wan pway? Chirp!” He asked his hulking sister.

Chirp! Gu way! Peep! Nu wike poopy!” She grunted at her brother, before slowly standing up and towering over her much smaller brother.

“Huu… meanie wowdies. Peep! Nu wike–Eeek!”, he Shouts, as his sister pops him in the face with her hoof, causing him to recoil in pain. “Huu huu! Chirp! Wun way! *Peep!”, and he began crawling away from his meanie sister as fast as he could, as the bestest just sits down on her rump, a little tired from standing up that long on her fat, stubby legs. Laguna heard the cry and his ears immediately perked up.

“Hol’ on, fiwwy fwiend. Waguna gu check on odew babbehs, Otay?”, he says getting to his feet and walking towards where the bestest was.

“Otay! Peep! Wub fwein’!”, she happily responds back, before resuming playing with the block in her hooves.

He just barely catches the scene of the bestest popping her brother, and starts to run at her as the runt trys to get away. Laguna then gets right in her face, and while the bestest is bigger than her litter mates, she was not bigger than Laguna, who was a little bigger, but also much more filled out in his body as well. “Peep! Wat am yu fink yu am duing?”, he practically growls at her.

Chirp! Babbeh du what babbeh wan! Chirp!” She peeps back at him, surprisingly not afraid. Laguna begins circling the side of the bestest.

“Oh yeh? Den Waguna du wat Waguna wan’!” Laguna then brings up both of his front hooves, and kicks the bestest in the face, causing her to get knocked over on her side, and a faint trail of blood now dripping out of her nose.

“SKREEEE! Smeww pace huwties! Peep Chirp Peep!” She starts rubbing her face, and frantically looking around for someone to help her, seeing her red and purple brother ignore her in favor of the ball, the runt cowering behind the Fluffy bed, and her sister just walking up to see what’s going on. “Hewp! Chirp! Sabe babbeh! Peep!

Laguna walks over and leans down to her face. “Nu fwuffy wan hewp meanie, ba’ fwuffy wike yu. Peep! Get up, yu am nu huwt ba’.” He then gets up and walks over to the poopie babbeh, and puts a hoof around him. “It otay nao. Waguna wiww pwotec babbeh.” The shivering runt then begins to stifle his crying to smaller sobs and sniffles.

Peep! Dank yu…” he says to Laguna.

Peep! Nu wowwy, Waguna am toughie. Waguna wiww watch babbeh!” He says with his chest puffed up, and his wings lightly flapping.

Peep! Wub 'Guna! Chirp!” The runt exclaims.

Chirp! Wub Waguna tuu…", says the white pegasus, who was slowly walking up behind him.

The bestest babbeh, after noticing no one was paying attention to her, finally stopped her tantrum. She then gets up and walks back over to the milk bottles to feed for the third time since Daddy has been gone, while the other foals only ate once before I left, once again drawing the ire of Laguna, who remembered his dad’s words of making sure everyone got a fair amount. He then gets up and intercepts her at the bottle, saying “Wai’! Peep!”, before she latched on to the bottle.

Peep! Wha’ dummeh wan? Chirp! Hungy!” She replied, visibly annoyed at his intrusion of her feeding.

“Babbeh hab miwkies twu times aww weady! Chirp! Yu am nee tu shawe wiff yu bwuddas an sissies!”

“Nu cawe! Peep! Wan miwkies! Chirp!

Right as Laguna lifted one of his hooves up, they are all drawn towards the sound of the saferoom door opening.

“Laguna! I’m back bud!” I walk in the room carrying a bag.

“Daddeh!”, he exclaims, promptly ignoring the bestest as he runs toward me excitedly.

I lean down and give him some gentle scratches on his head. “How was everything, my little Laguna?”

Peep! Mos’ babbehs am gud, buh… Chirp!” He says, his face growing grim, well for a Fluffy. He turns around and points at the bestest baby and says, “Dat babbeh am ba’ babbeh! She huwt hew bwudda. Peep! An’ she nu wan shawe miwkies!”

I raise and eyebrow, and say “Oh really? Well don’t worry, I have just the thing for that.” I then pull out a foal sorry box. The bestest baby, now unaccosted from Laguna, has began drinking more milk, draining what looks to be a second bottle dry. Now, three bottles, decently sized as they are, is not enough to feed 6 fluffy foals in one day. But being gone for only an hour, and there only being half a bottle worth of milk left, really puts into perspective how much her brothers and sisters, who weren’t runts, went without their mother’s milk. That should have lasted them all 3 or 4 hours at least. I get up and walk over to the bestest, snatching her up by her scruff.

SKREEEE! MUMMAH! CHIRP! HEWP! PEEP!" She cries, as I bring her in front of my face.

“I hear someone has been a real bad baby.” I then flick the bestest foal in her nose, sending her into a frenzied state, illiciting more blood to dribble out of her nose.


“I didn’t flick you that hard, shut up,” I tell her, not realizing the prior trauma she sustained early to the nose, placing her in the foal sorry box. Luckily, even the foal sized sorry boxes came with the cross piece to force them to a standing position. Now this was obviously made with a foal like Laguna in mind, who could already stand comfortably and walk. But for a foal baby that just opened its eyes an hour and 15 minutes ago? And not only with a foal that young either unable to stand, or stand up for any real length of time, but also a bestest baby that was unnaturally larger than average; over weight from gorging on her mothers milk? It would be hell for the bestest foal for any time longer than 5 minutes. And I intended to leave her in there much, much longer than that.

“SKREEEE, NU WAN! HEWP! Peep!”, she cried from within the box. All of the foals begin to waddle to the box with their sister in it, scared but curious as to what was going on, with Laguna trotting behind them. I make a big show of punishing her, as an example to the others.

“This is what happens when fluffies are bad! They go into the sorry box and get no love or hugs, and they can’t run and play,” I tell the foals.

“Nu wike! Peep!
“Scawey! Chirp!
“Babbeh am ba’?” They all say one after the other.

“That’s right. If you’re good, you get hugs, love, and can play all you want!”

Peep! Wub!”
“Pway! Chirp!
Peep! Chirp!
Chirp! Am gud!”

I look back at Laguna. “Alright, now. Daddy has to go get the babies’ mommy and daddy. I need you to explain to them the rules, and make sure they understand. Can you do that for me bud?”

Peep! Dey du hab a mummah an daddeh? Du… du dat mean dey nu stay hewe wiff waguna?” He says, dejected.

“Of course they’re gonna stay with us, knuckle head! Their mom and dad live outside, in our back yard. I’ll show you sometime later.”

Laguna perks back up, and looks at the white filly with a smile, before looking back at me. “Otay, daddeh! Waguna wiww watch obew babbehs mowe!” I then get up, and walk out the saferoom, closing the door behind me.

Next Chapter


Laguna seem to be a permanent fixture now in his home, instead of the stress toy he was intended as.


Definitely. Totally planned that way. I don’t make this shit up as I go along, no sir lol



The best kind of story.


Very fucking neat indeed. :smiley:

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Thanks. Someone gave me this cool suggestion :wink:


Still big in China, one has been told.


Ooooo, thanks for the history lesson!

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oh gosh, this really inpired me to take the plunge and write my stuff, amd I’m really happy to see the bestest baby not be bigger then Laguna

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