Pain. Screaming, begging, nothing worked as the other musnstah human ruined your tasty place and smelly place. Your mind was lost in agony as you lost your cweanie wicky thing. The munstah then made you num your cweanie wicky thing. Then, he made it so you could num nothing ever again. You couldn’t even speak anymore.
Your poopie place ached. Your facey ached. Your tummy ached. Why? You were your mummah’s bestest babbeh, so why? She let you have good feels with your dummeh poopie babbeh sistah, saying you needed practice for making even more and better babbehs. So why? Weren’t you bestest? All you could think of was how many sorry hoofsies your her was going to give these dummeh humans. Then, you would-
“Leave it here. Let it wither away. But don’t let it freeze.”
Huh? No, they can’t leave you here! You were bestest! You needed huggies and love to make your hurties go away! You didn’t want coldies anymore! NO! NOOO!
“If you say so.”
No! They were biggest dummehs, but they still had to let you go! Make your hurties go away! Mummah saiid that humans should give you all you wanted from them! She was a liar! A LIAR! A DUM DUM NO NUMMIE LIAR! “AA! AH aghh! AGGGGHHHH! AAA AYYY!! AIIIIEEEE!!!”
You looked at the shit rat again. Apparently he was still awake enough to hear what Dan said. Good job, he played himself. Now he was just screaming again.
“FUCK OFF!” You slammed your fist into his stomach, which turned out to be a mistake. With no mouth or tongue, and with the majority of the blood from your dental work with him going down his throat, he regurgitated a mix of blood and digested trash food onto your arm. With your fist still making an indent in his stomach, you could only sigh. “Alright, Dan. Lemme have that duct tape, and you can head to the car. I won’t kill him, but you still want him to stick around, right?”
Dan stares at the fluffy. He takes a step back, turns, and grabs the roll off his bike’s handlebar. He holds it out to you. You take it gently. He makes no sounds as he does though.
“…don’t forget your bike. Put it in the back, I won’t be long.”
He goes back, grabs his bike along with another pizza box he still had for some reason, and starts walking his bike to your truck. You make sure he at least gets across the street before turning your attention back to Shithead.
“Well, that won’t do. With nothing in your gut, you are BOUND to starve before you can really appreciate how badly you fucked up. Here, We can still fill you before I go.”
Grabbing the fluffy’s decimated upper half of his mouth, you push it to the dumpster wall. He screams when his mangled mouthpiece touches the cold metal, but you need his mouth wide open to make sure he gets it all. You also refresh the tape across his midsection, since you won’t really want to touch him again after this.
Sitting in traffic gave you a MASSIVE need to piss, and you finally found a urinal. With his mouth taped open, you unzip your pants. He starts to scream when he sees what your doing. Must think he’s about to get a taste of his own deserts.
“In your fucking nightmares, maybe shit rat. No, you just get a whole bunch of sorry piss-piss. Heh.” Fluffy speak always makes you laugh. God, these things got a bad hand.
Releasing your bladder a foot away from it in case he throws up again, you end up soaking him in more piss than making any into his gullet. Ah well, will help defrost him one last time before he finally succumbs to the cold. He tries to scream, but just ends up gargling the yellow rain more than crying out for help. “Drink up! Last fluids your getting in your life, shithead!”
Finished, you are just about to head back (don’t forget your fly) when you realize he still has his junk, far as you can tell. You debate leaving him alone, but nah. A tad more poetic justice won’t hurt.
The very first time you think you had a thought… was right after being born. You thought, “Damn, my head hurts.”
This immediately made things worse. Words filled your mind, and it ached horribly. You could only chirp in pain when you felt the cold of this terrible world, with your mind racked with knowledge and instincts fighting against each other. You can’t think of no-no words, those are bad! Human babbehs can’t hear those! Babbehs? Humans? What?
Your stomach-tummy-made a scary sound, so you chirped even louder. Why were you not being given milkies? Wait, milkies? Yes, milk from-
“Speshaw fwend, yu has tu wub aww babbehs! An nu munstah babbehs! Jus wingeh-pointeh babbehs! Owd big mummah say so!”
Speshaw… special? Special friend? Mum-mom-mum-momma-mummah? Ow, ow, owies! Wowsest thinkie place hurties!
“Nu! Nu wanna gib give munstah monster babbeh miwkies! Baddes babbeh!”
You could feel soft yet hard things clasp around your nape. You could only give out more frightened chirps as you were placed next to something soft. It smelled… wonderful.
“Aw babhbehs gud babbehs. Daddeh nu wanna, but daddy will give you sorry hoofsies if you don’t feed our baby!”
Ow… stop! Stop it!
“Fien. Wiww gib miwkies to dummeh babbeh…”
You felt pushed forward, closer into your MOTHER’s fluff and MILKIE MILKIE MILKE milkie place. You can’t even control your body as you latch on and begin to suckle…
-1 month later-
Sitting in a cardboard box with another mare, your momMEH, your brothers and sisSIES, and an unpleasant NASTEH-smelling foal BABBEH, you can’t help but hold your poor little heaTHINKIE PLACE. The words are more and more jumbled now, and you can feel the old mare nudge you as she gestures over to a corner with her hoof.
“Youngin, please. If you need to make poopies, jus use the corner. Pa won’t be mad atcha. No need to be in a tizzie bout it.”
You look at the old mare as you drop your cut hood from your THINKIE PLACE. “Wah? Yu no soond wike… wike fwuffy.”
The mare MUMMAH stares at you back, before coughing awkwardly. “Uh, mak poopies ovah dawe! Nu cwy wittew babbeh!”
Before you can question it any more, you hear a click and feel the woosh of cold air as you see your new daddy! He’s standing over the wall of ANOTHER new housie! “Daddeh! Pweeze hug Munstah! Nee… Nee…” Your brain hurts even more. Why won’t it stop! Bad monster fluffy, BAWED MUNSTAH BAD MONSTER BAD!
You feel it then. A cold, but soft pair of hands wrapping around your tummy as your daddeh holds you against his chest. With one hand he holds you, and he uses the other to shut the door. He brings you into the cold air, and you begin to panic. Was he leaving you? Did he change his mind? No, no, no! Need warm housie! Needed wub, wub an huggies! NU, NU WANNA BE AWONE, NU WHAN GO FOHEBAH SWEEPIES, YOU DIDN"T WANT TO DIE, NO!
“Nu, daddeh, pweez…” was all you could manage. Even as your mind was in turmoil, as your tummy had wowest ouchies from lack of food-NUMMIES, you couldn’t do it. Begging him to come closer, or ask for huggies, was all you could bring yourself to do. Even now, you wanted to scream and plead your case, but something was stopping you. You could feel it, the same place in your THINKIE PLACE that made it so hard to think. To do anything, to talk to other fluffies, why?
“No. Your name isn’t monster.”
Huh?
He brought you to his face. In the cold air, his noce was red. You could see his eyes were red, and his mouth was agape. In that moment, you saw him up close. His head fluff-his hair was red, and curly, like a fluffy’s coat. Orangey red, and he had shiny green eyes. When he picked you up before, the shadows had hidden his features, his face. All you could tell his voice was very nice. Now, you could see his face. The face of your new daddy, as his eyes stared directly into yours.
“You are not a monster. I want to make that very clear.”
“Nu munstah? Bud if no munstah…” you couldn’t continue. If you weren’t a monster, what were you? What would you call a fluffy like you? Tears started to form in your… eyes. Eyes.
“Well.” You felt your new daddy walk around, shaking you as he made another click and opened a door on the big metal rumble housie. You could hear your siblings protest you being held when they were so much better. “Queih! Nu beh bad babbehs fow Mistah dan! MIstah, Mistah, DAN CAN HOLD WHATEVER BAB HE WANTS TUH, GOTS IT!?” You could hear the old mare make another blunder, but you weren’t sure if daddy heard it. He looked at you again, closely, as he sat in the warm air of the metal housie.
“Well, you are white. You have a nice, light blue mane. You are still pretty quiet, and I haven’t heard you make many screeches. If any…” He placed you in his lap, sitting on your back hoofsies. “And those eyes… all swirly, and blue. Maybe… snowstorm? No, too metal. Snowflake? You wanna be called snowflake?”
“Snow…fwake?” You looked at him confused, was that your new namesie? Your new name?
He made a grimace as you said it. “Nah. Makes me think you can’t do anything. Fitting for a fluffy, but…”
He held you up, as you began to cry again. “nu… wan nyu namsie… pweeze…”
“Chill! You’ll get one, jeez, just…” He sighed in exasperation. You were such a dumb fluffy…
“Sowwy. Munstah wiww… chi- munstah wiww chiww. Nu, munstah wiww, wiww, chiww. Chiwew? Chiww! Munstah wiww… munstah wiww… nuuuuuu…” in frustration, you started to cry. He said to chill, not chiww! Why can’t you make sounds like your head, your thinkie place does! Dumb fluffy! Dumb dummeh fwuff fluffy!
Then he opened his eyes again as he looked at you. For the first time, you looked at him, and saw him smile.
“Chilly. There you go. You are not ‘munstah.’ You are Chilly. C’mon, slowly. C-h-i-llllllla. C h i l l.”
Chilly. “Fwuff namesie is… cheww. Ch-ch, cha-a-a-a, cheeeewwww,”
You see him start to laugh a bit as you try and make your tongue do what his does. “Here, here, do this. L-a. L,l,l, laaaa.”
“wa, wa, waaaa.”
He starts to giggle again, but so do you. “No, here, look.” He brings his mouth closer, and you see inside his big mouth. It doesn’t even cross your mind he might bite. “L! Like this, with your tongue. I know fluffies have a tongue! You can do it if Jackie can, I know you can!” You see him smile even wider as you take a deep breath.
“Waaa, waaaa, wu, wuhluh, wuh, luuuuuuhhhhhh…”
“There, now, Ch! Then I! Then Lee! Ok?”
Trying the hardest you have probably ever had before, you open your little jaws wide, and do your best to make your tongue do as daddy’s does.
“Ch, ch, chiiiiii, llllleeee, chiiiiiiwwww, chiww, ch… chill… chilly!” Even if your tongue hurts, your eyes open in surpirse.
“CHILLY! YEAH, FUCK YEAH! One more, one more!”
“Chiww, chill, CHWILLY! Namsie is CHILLY!” Even as your eyes start to water, you can’t help but have a big smile as your new daddy lifts you above his head.
“YEEAAAH! FUCK-”
"MIstah DAN!’
Your moment is cut short as you hear the old mare, jackie, call out. “Huh, what?”
She nudges her head back towards some rather sleepy-looking foals, bobbing their heads. “Pweez nu scweam- screw it, yall already know. Please no more screamin curses? I’m sorry, but-”
“No, it’s fine Jackie. My bad.” You get jostled as your new daddeh reaches back to scratch Jackie on her ears. “I’ll be quiet.”
“Tank ya, mistah yaaaaawn Dan.” You watch over daddy’s shoulder as she layes her head down, nuzzling the brown foal. It’s much cleaner now.
Just as she finishes, another cold whind blows in with another kr-chunk as you see the bigger munstah dadDEH from before get in the warm housie.
“Hey, heard ya yelling bout something. Everything alright, Dan?” He looks over at your daddy, but your daddy just smiles.
“Yeah, yeah Mr. Natelli. Just was excited about getting Chilly to say her name right.” Daddy Dan cups his flat hoofsie----haaaaaand, his hand around your head as he rubs you. It’s nice and warm now.
Big Mr.Natell, uh, Mr.Nut relaxes when he looks at daddy Dan’s smile. "Sure, I mean, they aren’t that dumb, but ok. It’s a drive back, you sure you wanna hold that while we drive back? Might get a shitty surprise!’
You let out a yawn yourself as you say, “nuu, nuu poopsie on daddeh. Nu poopsies in tummeh!”
You aren’t sure what you said wrong, but both Daddy dan and Mr. Nut share a look before looking back at your mummah. They don’t look happy.
“Hmm. Alright. Son, it’s late. I’ll just drive you back to my place, we can set these guys up in my saferoom, and then you can crash on the couch, alright? Don’t forget to call your mom, it’s too late for you to get back home. Damn near 10.”
“Ah, shit. Thanks, Mr.Natelli. My phone is dead now though, so I’ll have to call in the morning.”
“Hmm.”
You lay your head as your new daddy strokes your back fluff. Even as the metal housie begins to move and rumble louder, you still start to drift to your first painless sleep in… well, since you were born. No more thinkie place ouchies…
Hey! So yeah, might have more than I thought. Obviously, Chilly is a bit more than normal. I will say now, she does NOT have human genes conflicting with fluffy genes. This is something that will be expanded more on in the next bit. Suffice to say, this is not a “Oh, she’s a SUPER SPECIAL ORIGINAL SUPER FLUFFY!” Kind of deal. What’s going on actually is part of why I wanted to set this story so far in the future regarding when fluffies got released.
With new technology, humanity has decided that if they can’t kill fluffies quickly enough, maybe they can make living around them less painful from the start… that’s all I can say now though. stay tuned!