“Huuhuu…”
Dumbass is laying down on his bed, surrounded by an assortment of equipment. Suture thread and needle, towels, instaheal gel, a needle, and a cleaver. With the smack of rubber hitting my palms, I turn around with my gloves on, ready to do this crude amputation of the, heh, “patient’s” legs. My breath is a little erratic, while my wide open eyes stare down at Dumbass in a nervous fervor. Dumbass, laying there with his feet out in front of him, slowly looks up to me, before asking a question.
“W-wiww D-daddeh gib Dumass feew gud medsin?”
“Not until after the procedure, bud,” I quip back instantly. “But after we are done, I promise I’ll give you some, ok? Just be patient for Daddy, let him take care of you.”
“Huu… Otay. P-pwease huwwy…”
I grab his left front hoof in my hand, and pull it tight from his side. I then put my other hand right at the shoulder, and begin slowly pulling and twisting his leg. Dumbass’s breathing starts to get laboured, before he starts to panic.
“Daddeh! Huwties! Why huwt fwuffy!? Why… h-huwt fwuffIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” He screams, as the pressure of the pulling and twisting hits its crescendo, and with my enjoyment hitting its peak, I pull hard and fast, dislocating, or probably breaking, his arm out of socket.
“Ahhh, fuck…” I moan, as I savor every moment of his suffering.
“HUFF-HUFF…” is all Dumbass can muster, his eyes wide open, yet oddly blank, his face contorted into a scream that doesn’t come. I grab the cleaver, and without letting go of his hoof that I had used to pull him arm out of socket, I slam the blade hard into his leg, cutting straight through, cutting into his bed as well. Finally it comes.
“AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOUUGH!”
“HAHAHA FUCK YES!” I scream and laugh with his cry of pain. “Haha that’s a new one! I like that scream!”
“Eeep!” I hear behind me. I slowly turn around, and I see Jessibell, baby under arm, staring at the terrifying scene with her hoof covering her muzzle. A smile creeps across my face, almost ear to ear, as I stare into her eyes, like in a trance. “M-munsta…” she mutters, unable to break away from my gaze, as if she looked away for just a moment, I might hurt her too. I turn back to Dumbass, who’s still crying and complaining about “weggie no mowe” and “tuu much huwties.”
“Toughen up, you little bitch,” I tell him, as I start to clean up his wound. “Fuck, it’d probably have been easier to cauterize it…” I wonder aloud. I throw a huge dollop of instaheal gel on the wound, and put the towel over it to staunch the bleeding. I’m hoping their natural super clotting, combined with the gel, will help staunch some of the bleeding before trying to stich him up. I then move the towel away and see it’s already started, at least enough for me to get to suturing what skin is left around the stump. While I’m no doctor, I have to say, it looks… well it looks like shit, but it’ll work. It’ll have to. I then look over at Dumbass’s face, and give him a small smack on the butt, before saying “See? That wasn’t so bad, right? Just one more!” Dumbass just closes his eyes, barely holding back the tears pushing through his eyelids.
“Huuhuu…”
In the saferoom, the three remaining brothers and sister are huddled together, muttering to eachother as they try to come to terms with what happened.
“Huuhuu, peep!” Cries Dopey. Sora looks over at him, and puts a hoof around him.
“Huu, I knyo Dopey bwudda… Sowa missie Turkeh tuu…” she says, trying her best to comfort him. She then looks up at Jive, who with tear stained eyes, glares ahead at the sorrybox that holds Laguna. “Chirp! Bwudda?” She says to Jive.
“Hmph, wat Sowa wan?” He replies back, not taking his gaze off of Laguna’s sorry box.
“Am bwudda otay? Peep! Nee’ huggies?”
“Nu.” And with that, Jive starts walking towards Laguna’s sorrybox.
“Chirp! Wat am bwudda duing?” Sora asks Jive, pulling away from Dopey as she turns around to watch Jive. Jive then gets right up to the sorrybox, his Fury reaching new heights, as even one of his eyes start twitching.
“Grrr, peep! Jibe haytchu! HAYTCHU!” He screams at Laguna. Shuffling noises can be heard from inside the sorrybox, before Laguna speaks.
“Wet Waguna ou’! Waguna sowwy! Huuhuu…”
“Stupie, dummeh Waguna! Haytchu! You maek bestest bwudda gu foweba sweepies!” He exclaims, before turning around and bucking the sorrybox repeatedly.
“‘Top! Waguna sowwy! Nu wan babbehs git huwties! Buh babbehs maek ba’ poopies! Huuhuu!” He crys.
“Nu cawe! Yu towd meanie daddeh tu huwt babbehs! TAEK SOWWY POOPIES!” And with that, Jive coats the side of the sorrybox in liquid shit, and even though it shielded him from getting hit by it, it’s now all he can smell from his breathing holes.
“Nuuuhuuhuuhuu! Nu smeww pwetty! Why huwt Waguna?! Huuhuuhuu!”
“Bwudda! Nu!” Sora shouts, terrified of the consequences of more bad poopies. “Bwudda gon git huwties nao! Huuhuuhuu!”
“Hmph, nu. Dis am Dopey fauwt! Nu teww munsta daddeh it am Jive. Yu say it am poopie bwudda, OTAY?!” He demands of her, butting his forehead against hers, pressing his horn into her forehead.
“Huuhuu! Nu mowe huwties! Su scawey!” She cries, before laying down with her hooves over her head. Jive then walks over to Dopey, and does the same intimidation tactic on him.
“Nu teww munsta daddeh dat Jive maek sowwy poopies, or Jive gib wowest huwties!”
“Huuhuu! Peep!” Dopey cries, and turns around sulks off, finding a corner to nestle in to cry and suck on his hoof.
Just as Jive was about to walk off somewhere, I walk through the door, blood stains on my arms, shirt, and pants. I close the door behind me and scan the room. Dopey is in the corner crying, Sora is close by the sorry box crying, and Jive stopped in his tracks, looks up like a deer caught in headlights. I see the sorrybox, and the shit slowly sliding down the side of it, and my expression sours.
“Anyone want to explain what the fuck is going on here?”
“Peep! Nuuu…” says Jive slyly. The other two refuse to look up from their crying. Jive looks at the both of them, and then back at me. “Chirp! It am poopie bwuddas fauwt! He wus maddies at dummeh Waguna, and den gabe Waguna sowwy poopies! J-Jibe twy tu 'top poopie bwudda, bu-bu…” He trails off, as he notices my face getting more and more solemn. If looks could kill, Jive knew he’d be dead. I walk over and grab a wet wipe, before kneeling down and wiping up the sorrybox. Laguna hears me doing this and starts to cry.
“Huuhuu! Su sowwy daddeh! Peep! Su, su sowwy! Waguna wub daddeh! Pwease wub Waguna! Wiww du anyting! Huuhuuhuu!” He says frantically through his peeps and cries. After wiping it off good enough, I open the top and see the little nervous wreck. His fur was all frayed and frazzled, his face caked in snot and tears, with a little bit of pee puddling underneath him. He trys to look up at me. “Huuhuuhuu! Daddeh! Pwease sabe babbeh! Wan daddeh tu wub Waguna, huuhuuhuu! Nu wun wubs widdwe Waguna, huuhuuhuu!” I say nothing as I grab another wet wipe, before I pull him out of the sorrybox, and close to my chest. I start wiping his face and his underneath as I softly console him.
“Shhh, shhh, it’s ok. Daddy’s here now,” I say, before pulling him closer to my face, rubbing his body with my face, as he trys to hug it while lightly sobbing. I then put him in front of my face, so he can see me easily. “Daddy still loves his little Laguna, ok? But do you know why Daddy put you in the sorry box?” He rubs his eyes with his hooves, before looking back up at me.
“Hic, yus Daddeh… Waguna am bad fwuffy! Nu desewbe Daddeh’s wub! Huuhuuhuu!” I look at him with a soft grin.
“Yes, but no. You didn’t listen to Daddy or follow the rules. And you tried to lie to Daddy.” I then reach out with my finger, and gently give him rubs and scratches, as he lightly coos and huus. “You’re supposed to be Daddy’s toughie. You need to be strong and enforce the rules when Daddy isn’t around. You understand?”
“Huu, yus Daddeh… Waguna neba, eba be ba’ 'gain!” He says, still rubbing himself into my pets.
“Now, to be a good fluffy, you need to be Daddy’s toughie again. Can you do that, bud?” I stop petting him as I ask this, staring into his tiny button eyes.
“Yus, Daddeh! Wan be gud toughie fow Daddeh! Waguna wub daddeh! Nee’ Daddeh!”
“OK, then I need you to punish the one who tried to give you sorry poopies,” I say, my voice turning cold. I lower him down and put him back on the ground before turning to face Jive. Jive is glaring at Laguna, not realizing what’s about to happen.
“… Otay, Daddeh.” Laguna says solemnly, turning around to face Jive as well. Jive looks on undeterred, slowly walking towards Laguna, as he does the same. As the two finally approach eachother, Laguna looks down at the smaller Jive, as Jive glares right up at him.
“Wat am stupie Waguna wookin at?” He snarls at Laguna.
“Jive am ba’ babbeh, maek ba’ poopies, nee’ tu be puness–WACK” a smack from Jive cutting Laguna off. Laguna recoils from the smack, which didn’t hurt him so much as startle him.
“NU MOWE TAWKIES! JIVE AM SMAWTEH, DU WAT JIVE WAN!” He shouts in Laguna’s face and pressing his horn into his chin, trying the same intimidation tactic that was used on his siblings. Finally, something within Laguna snaps. He stands up on his back legs, his front hooves held up in the air, before he brings them both down on Jive, clobbering him to the ground. With Jive pinned to the ground, Laguna begins to shout down at him.
“NU! WAGUNA AM TAWKIES NAO! Jibe am nu smawteh! Yu am dummeh widdwe babbeh! Jibe an Turkeh an Dopeh maek ba’ poopies!” He shouts, bring up a hoof and then down on Jives head again.
“Peep! Chirp! Hewp! Sabe babbeh!” Jive cries out, to no avail.
“Yu stupie fwuffies onwy maek bestest Daddeh maddies at Waguna! SMACK Dis nu Wagunas fauwt, dis dummeh babbeh’s fauwt! WACK NEBA MAEK DADDEH MADDIES 'GAIN! SMACK”
“…peep… nu… mowe… huwties… chirp…” Jive croaks out, his face battered and bleeding, an ear slightly torn at Laguna’s tiny, yet mighty, onslaught. Laguna stands back up with his hooves in the air, and positioned in place.
“Nu… Mowe… FUCKIE TAWKIES!” And with that final declaration, slams his hooves hard onto Jive’s neck, breaking it in one fell swoop.
“Huff… huff…” Laguna now is just standing there above him, breathing haggerdly, before realization kicks in, followed by panic. He looks around and sees the last two siblings looking on at the scene in horror, and regret and despair flashing across his face. He then lays down and covers his head, beginning to cry and beg. “HUUHUUHUU! AM SOWWY! WAGUNA NU MEAN TU! PWEASE WUB WAGUNA!” He cries hysterically.
I snap out of my trance of watching what happened, thoroughly enjoying what I saw, and a small tinge of pride. I quickly scoop him up and pull him into a deep embrace into my chest. “Shhh, shhh, shhhh. It’s ok, Daddy’s got you, it’s ok.” I say trying to soothe him.
“Huuhuuhuu! Am ba’ fwuffy! Am huwt babbehs! Am wowest fwuffy eba! Huuhuuhuu!” He continues to cry.
“No, no, no! You’re a good fluffy! You’re Daddy’s bestest fluffy ever! You did so good!” I say, rubbing his back. He starts to ease up on the hysterics.
“sniffle Weawy? Daddeh stiww wub Waguna? Huu…” He says, looking up at me.
“Fuck yeah I do! That was fucking amazing, bud! Just what I wanted! You fucking clobbered that little shit good! Come here bud, let’s get some air, ok?” I say with a smile to him.
“Yus, Waguna wikes dat… sniffle Wub Daddeh…” He says, nuzzling his face into my chest.
I stand up with Laguna still nestled into my chest, and reach over to grab Jive’s corpse. I then walk to the door, and before walking out, I turn around and look at the remaining foals. “I hope you two realize we are not fucking around here with you feral scum. Let this be a lesson, or you’ll end up like your garbage brothers,” before closing the door behind me.
“… nee’ mummah… peep… sabe babbehs…” Sora mutters, never taking her eyes off the spot her second brother had died. Dopey never looks up, and just keeps crying into his hooves.
I take Laguna into the kitchen, and set him down on the counter top, before lifting the trash lid, dropping in Jive’s corpse. Ah well, the Jive Turkey bit is dead, literally. Laguna still looks pretty sullen, but I walk over to the fridge and grab out some foal formula, a bowl from the cabinet, and a sketti treat. I break the sketti treat up into tiny pieces, before pouring the formula into the bowl with it. I then walk over and plop it down infront of Laguna. “Alright bud, Daddeh’s got a treat for you!” Laguna walks over, and studies the bowls contents intently.
“sniffles Wut am dat, daddeh…?” He asks me.
“Well, I think I know why you hate milk so much. You’re becoming a big fluffy now, a big and strong colt. I think it’s time to try big fluffy food. And I got you something special for your first big boy meal!”
Laguna continues to stare at the bowl, before slowly reaching in and grabbing a milk soaked piece of the sketti treat in his mouth, before trying to swallow it whole and choking on it, spitting it back out. “Huu… daddeh, big Boi nummies huwt fwoat!”
I giggle, before grabbing a protein bar for myself. “That’s because you have to chew it first, silly! Look, watch Daddy.” I then take a bite of the bar, and show him how to chew food, before swallowing it. “Now your turn!”
Laguna reaches back in to try once more, pulling another piece into his mouth before chewing it. A small smile creeps across his face as he then swallows it, successfully this time. “Mmm! Su guddies!” He exclaims, before digging into his treat.
“Fucking finally! You actually like eating something, hah,” I say, before happily watching him scarf down his treat. As he finishes, he makes a little burp, before sitting on his butt, with a serene look of contentment. I give him some tummy rubs, which illict some giggles from my little toughie. “How would you like to spend the rest of the day with me, outside the saferoom?” I ask him. As fun as it was abusing those shit-rat ferals, I’m burned out and in need of some cute shit.
He beams at me with delight, before saying “Yus, Daddeh! Waguna wud wike dat bewwy much!”
For the rest of the day, me and Laguna hang out, playing little games with him like hide and go peep, and watch TV with him. He really enjoyed the battle shonens especially, as even though he didn’t know what was going on, all of the action was still exciting to see. Finally, at night-time, I see my little Laguna struggling to stay awake, and instead of bringing him back to the saferoom, I bring him into my room. “How about you sleep with Daddy tonight, hmm?” I ask him.
“Yus, Daddeh! Nee’ sweepies wiff bestest Daddeh!” He happily replies.
I make a small pallet for him above the covers, so I don’t roll over on him accidentally, on the side of the bed next to me, and with him in hand, we get into bed. Sitting up, I tuck him into his pallet, and although I’m not very tired, I have just the thing for that. As I cut some lines to help me fall asleep, I look over at Laguna. “Get some good rest, ok my little Laguna? We are going to have a busy day tomorrow.”
“Coo… Otay daddeh, wiww have gud sweepies fow yu! Hab gud sweepie time… yawwwn” and with that, Laguna zonks out.
“Sniff-snort You too, bud…” I say before setting my tray down on my nightstand, and slinking into bed myself, and putting my hand over Laguna’s body in a way of cuddling him.
“… Because tomorrow we start your toughie training in earnest.”
