Hi there. My name is Ash, I’m a fluffy owner, and I’ve got a problem on my hands.
I’m just an average guy living in a small town, far away from a certain… bizarre city you may be familiar with. My town is the kind of town where everyone knows everyone.
And lately, everyone in town has had to keep their mares locked up.
See, a real bastard of a stallion from one of the feral herds in the area rolled into town, and ever since he arrived, he’s been forcing himself upon any mare he sees.
And killing any foals they happen to have.
Little bastard is clever about it, too. He knows what’ll happen if anyone catches him raping their fluffies, so he’s only been targeting mares when their owners aren’t around.
Or mares who don’t have owners, which is probably what got him kicked out of his herd.
Now you see why we’re keeping our mares locked up. So far, a few people’s mares have been impregnated by the bastard, but luckily, my own mare, Emily, hasn’t been violated yet.
However, we’re not going to just keep letting this happen.
Me and some of the guys got together, and got to thinking. We put a plan together.
It’s a bit of an unusual plan. We had to go to the nearest big city to pick up what we’ll need, because that kinda thing isn’t really commonplace in such a small town.
We don’t really have anyone who dabbles in that kinda thing around here.
But we’ve got what we need, and we’re putting a surprise together for that little bastard.
Let’s just say…
He’ll be getting a taste of his own medicine.
Right now, I’m in my house, in my kitchen, waiting for a signal, the curtains closed.
It’s about noon. An hour ago, one of the guys spotted the bastard waddling into town to find another victim.
We’ve got guys all over town tailing him, in disguise. One of my friends is currently disguised as a tree. We’re coordinating via a WhatsApp group chat.
I’m sitting at my dining table, my eyes fixed on the counter, upon which three items have been placed:
My phone, an empty bowl, and a glass bottle, containing a glowing substance that is steadily shifting color, from blue to pink and back.
That last one is the cornerstone of our plan.
I look out through the window, seeing something else we acquired in the city standing on my front lawn:
One of Flufftopia’s Special Huggie Friends, designed to look like Emily. Peach fluff, blue mane and tail, purple eyes. And a stubby little horn.
We don’t have a Flufftopia in town either. So yeah, I’ve gotta drive to the city every time I go shopping for fluffy supplies, but it’s worth the drive.
The real Emily is locked safe and sound in her saferoom, watching an episode of Captain Fluffy, blissfully oblivious to what is about to happen.
The phone vibrates, and I check it, seeing a text message.
He’s headed your way, Ash. Get ready.
After texting a reply, I look out the window again, and sure enough, I can see him coming.
He’s an earthie, and he’s got green fluff, a yellow mane and tail, and blue eyes. That, and a throbbing erection.
When he walks past my front yard, he notices the enticingly open gate, and the Special Huggie Friend.
I sprayed it with Gud-Feew synthetic mare pheromones, so he must have been following the scent.
Now, a human in this situation would probably be able to tell that something is up, and this is too good to be true.
But he’s a fluffy, so the little bastard takes the bait, hook, line and sinker, racing into the garden and mounting the fluffy sex doll so fast he almost breaks the sound barrier.
I crack the window open just a tad so I can hear him.
“Eeeenf. Eeeenf. Eeeenf.”
Huh. He’s going a lot slower than usual. I can guess why.
He’s seen Emily already. There was a close call at the park, I got her away from him just in time.
“Eeeenf… eeeenf… eeeenf…”
But I can tell she caught his interest. I’ve seen him waddle past my house several times since that incident, whenever he thinks I’m not at home, and he’s been hoping to catch Emily playing in the front yard by herself.
Clearly, he didn’t appreciate being cock-blocked, and he’s been biding his time. Fucker’s probably feeling really smug right about now.
That won’t last.
I reluctantly keep watching, waiting for him to finish.
“Eeeenf… eeeenf… eeeenf…”
He’s gonna be thirsty when he’s done.
“GUD FEEWS!!!”
Finally, he reaches his climax, thrusting in as deep as he can.
I’m not enjoying watching this, but I need to make sure he doesn’t nut and go before I get a chance to deploy the trap.
The Special Huggie Friend was just the lure.
For the record, Plan A was shoving one of those anti-rape devices into the Special Huggie Friend. You know, those things that look like condoms with razor-sharp blades inside?
But we didn’t think that was enough to punish the bastard.
Just wait until you see what we decided to do.
I grab the bottle and bowl, quickly heading outside. As I step onto my front lawn, I see him pulling out.
“Woo. Dat wuz sum weawwy gud feews.”
“Hey, buddy! Boy, you must be parched after that!”
The stallion turns to me, grinning.
“Hey, mistah. Fwuffy gut yu mawe af-tuw aww. Du wut yu mus, fwuffy haf awweady wun.”
I hold up the bottle, grinning back.
“You sure have! Gosh, I guess I was just a little too slow. But I’m not gonna be a sore loser. How about a drink to celebrate your victory over me?”
“Yuh, otay, fwuffy am fiwst-tee.”
I put the bowl on the ground, uncorking the bottle and pouring the mysterious substance into it.
“Here you go, buddy. Drink it all up!”
He waddles over, looking into the bowl, seeing its contents go from blue to pink to blue.
“Wut… wut am dis? Wai am it duin dat?”
“Because it’s, uh… a special drink. Only the best fluffies can have this.”
“Otay den.”
He eagerly laps up the bowl, and I watch him go, until he’s finished the last drop.
burp
He burps up a little puff of blue smoke shaped like a Mars symbol, that turns into a pink puff of smoke shaped like a Venus symbol.
Can you guess what’s about to happen?
“Fanks, mistah. Wewp, fwuffy shud pwob-ab-wee… um… pwob-ab-wee…”
He grimaces, and I look at him with an expression of mock concern.
“Gee, buddy, are you feeling okay?”
“Fwuffy… fwuffy feew kinna… stwange… owwie!”
He seizes up in obvious pain, and his body starts glowing blue, little blue Mars symbols floating around him.
bwoooooooooo…
“Wut am dis?!? Hewp! Hewp fwuffy!”
I watch as the light turns pink, and the little symbols become pink Venus symbols.
...oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo...
From what I can see of the stallion under the light show, his body is changing ever so subtly.
One particular body part is shrinking, and two other body parts are growing.
In a few minutes, calling him a stallion won’t be very accurate.
Calling him him won’t be accurate either.
…oooooooooong
Then the light fades, the transformation being complete.
And the stallion is now a mare.
He-- er, she speaks up, not yet realizing what just happened.
“Du mistah feew wike ess-pwain-in a fing ow too?!?”
When she hears her own voice, she freezes up in shock, her eyes wide.
She sits on her fluffy little bum, looking at her own crotch.
And when she sees that her, aha, weapon of choice is missing, she gasps at me in sheer horror.
“WUT DID YU JUS DU TU FWUFFY?!?”
I grab her by the scruff of her neck before she can react, grinning even harder at her.
“Oh, I haven’t even gotten started yet. This is just the preliminary to the, heh, main event. But first, I’ve gotta make a call…”
An hour later, I park my car outside a friend’s house, the stallion-turned-mare in a carrier in the back, her mouth gagged shut with a balled-up pair of old socks.
Several other cars are already parked outside, but they left room for my car.
As I get out of my car and retrieve the carrier, I see one of my co-conspirators walk up to me. He’s a big guy, he was a linebacker in high school.
“You got him, bro?”
I hold up the carrier with one hand, pointing at the occupant with the other. The stallion-turned-mare looks furious at being hoodwinked into an involuntary sex change, but knows that she can’t do anything about it, and is silently glowering.
“Technically, no. I don’t got him.”
My burly buddy rolls his eyes.
“Very funny. The guys are all out back, we’ve been waiting for you.”
“Excellent.”
After locking the car, we head to the back garden, where everyone involved in this operation has gathered, sitting on folding chairs, drinking some brewskis.
When I hold up the carrier like a warrior holding up the severed head of his fallen foe, they all cheer.
“Ash, my man! Good job!”
“So the idiot bought it!”
“Now we gon’ teach him a lesson!”
“I think you mean teach her a lesson…”
“Semantics!”
In the garden, a large pen has been set up, a dozen stallions eagerly waiting in it.
Those stallions belong to various members of this operation. We ran this part of the plan by them, and they consented, because all of them know mares who were violated by the bastard, and they’ve been eager to deliver some justice unto him.
In the case of Terry, a muscular earthie stallion with black fluff, his sister was one of the bastard’s victims.
The stallions have each taken one of Flufftopia’s Wock-Hawd pills, which are, if you really can’t tell, basically Viagra for fluffies, so all of them are, erm, standing to attention.
I’m sure you see where this is going.
Chuck, as the linebacker is called, gestures at the pen.
“You get the honors, bro, since you’re the one who brought him in. Er, brought her in.”
“Thanks, Chuck.”
I step into the pen, placing the carrier on the ground and kneeling down, smiling a fake-friendly smile at the stallion-turned-mare as I open the carrier and remove the gag.
“Welp, here we are. Here, you’re gonna get what you deserve.”
She starts trembling, an unsettling realization slowly dawning on her.
“W-w-wut am yu gunna du tu fwuffy…”
“Oh, my poor little moron. You really need me to spell it out for you?”
I lean in closer.
“Remember all those mares you had your way with, back when you still had a dick?”
“Y-yus…”
I move to grab her.
“Well, now we’re gonna see how you like it. Congratulations, you might be the first mare who deserves to be raped. Let’s find out if you can get as good as you gave!”
“Nu, wait–”
And then I drag the stallion-turned-mare out.
“Here you go, boys. Have at it!”
As the stallions move in, leering at their imminent victim, I quickly step out of the pen, bringing the empty carrier with me.
Don’t want the bas-- bitch to take shelter in it.
“I hope you all brought your ponchos, guys. We’re in the splash zone.”
Me and the guys watch the stallions close in on the stallion-turned-mare, who looks pleadingly at them.
“Um… it nu wud make a diff-wens if fwuffy towd yu dat fwuffy nu awways wuz a mawe, wud it?”
One of the stallions shakes his head.
“Yu am a mawe nao.”
“Can we nu tawk abowt dis-- EEEEEEEEEE!!!”
The stallions start running a train on the stallion-turned-mare.
“ENF! ENF! ENF! ENF! ENF!”
Terry’s getting the first turn. Two of the other stallions, a pair of brothers named Redmond and Blutarch, are holding the bitch still, gripping her front legs in their teeth.
Redmond’s a red and orange unicorn, and Blutarch’s a blue and grey pegasus.
Despite what you might expect from names like that, they actually get along very well.
I sit on one of the folding chairs, grabbing a cold one from a cooler and cracking it open.
krrrk
“Looks like the operation was a rousing success.”
“ENF! ENF! ENF! ENF! ENF!”
One of the guys, a gangly dude who works at the local garage, lights up a blunt.
“You don’t think Korkea’s gonna come giving us trouble about this, do you?”
“Look, if he does, we’ll be honest with him. He’s gotta understand, right? We had a good reason. Besides, the ChaotiX doesn’t mind everything that Slayer does, and he could out-horny this bitch any day of the week. For now, let’s just enjoy the show.”
Another of the guys walks out of the house, carrying a big bag of popcorn and several bowls.
“I made kettle corn~! Who wants some?”
As he starts giving out popcorn, I check my phone, pulling up live video from the camera I’ve got in the saferoom at home.
Looks like Emily’s doing just fine. Emily and all the other mares in town will be happy to hear that the bastard stallion terrorising the town won’t be a problem anymore.
We’re not gonna kill him-- her when the other stallions are done with her. It’s a given that she’s walking away from this with several unwanted buns in her oven.
Which just makes this more karmalicious, considering the unwanted buns the stallion-turned-mare put in several mares’ ovens. She’s going to have to experience the miracle of birth first-hand-- um, first-hoof.
We’ll keep this bitch alive and in a relatively good condition until the foals are born, and then we might just kill her.
As for the foals? Well, we talked about that before we got started, and we decided that killing any resulting foals too wouldn’t be very fair.
To the foals, that is.
The bitch isn’t keeping them, that’s for sure. If she’s lucky, we’ll milkbag her, blind her, and that’s the most contact she’ll ever have with them.
But seeing as she didn’t care for any of the foals she sired as a stallion, we’re not sure if she’ll care about these foals.
It’s a moot point, though.
We can probably find a good home for them.
“GUD FEEWS!!!”
After Terry finishes, he steps aside, letting another of the stallions move in.
“Hope yu nu mine Tewwy swoppy sekkunds.”
He waddles over to me, looking meaningfully at the bowl of popcorn now in my hand.
“Yeah, yeah, I can take a hint…”
I toss him a handful of popcorn.
“Fanks, mistah Ash. Teww Emiwy dat Tewwy sed hewwo, wiww yu?”
“I will. So are you gonna go a second time, or…”
“Tewwy am gunna wait un-tiw da uddas haf aww had a tuwn.”
Then he starts eating the popcorn, watching the other stallions continue to run a train.
“um num num num num…”
I look around, seeing some of the guys recording the show on their phones, others drinking beer, passing the blunt around, and/or munching on popcorn.
It’s usually kinda boring around here. This sleepy little town ain’t as exciting as Korkeaopolis is. We have to find our entertainment where we can.
Then I look back at the pen, seeing a shit brown and piss yellow unicorn stallion by the name of Bruno taking his turn.
“ENF! ENF! ENF!”
Now, this is the part I’ve been looking forward to. Bruno is Chuck’s fluffy, and Bruno used to be a stud. Despite his dingy colors, he’s got a recessive gene that gave the foals he fathered glittery fluff. It’s rare, but not unheard of.
But he had to retire because he was far too rough with the mares.
Of course, right now, that’s an asset to us.
The stallion-turned-mare isn’t enjoying this at all.
“NUUUUU-HUUUUU-HUUUUU!!! STAWP!!!”
WHAP
“OWWIE!!!”
She catches a hoof to the back of the head.
“SHUDDUP, BWUNO NU AM DUN YET! ENF! ENF! ENF!”
I can see the stallion-turned-mare’s expression, because she’s currently facing my direction, Bruno roughly thrusting away behind her. It’s a conflicted expression: her mind doesn’t want any of this, but her body is betraying her, and she knows it.
She’s trying to fight it, but that’s a losing battle.
Again, it’s karma, because she inflicted the same on several of the mares she raped as a he.
When she sees me watching her with a smug smile of victory, she glares at me, hatred in her eyes.
“Dis am aww yu fauwt, dummeh hoo–”
“ENF! ENF! ENF!”
“–ooooooooooEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
But Bruno goes even harder, wiping that look right off the stallion-turned-mare’s face.
Chuck grins at me, because he saw that expression too.
“You wanna bet on which one of 'em gives her a big O first, Ash? Five bucks says it’s Bruno.”
“Fuck no, that’s a sucker’s bet.”
“ENF! ENF! ENF!”
“Eep-- nu-- eep, eep-- oh come awn-- eep, eep, nu, nu-- eepeepeep-- nununununu-- EEEEEEEEEEP!!!”
“GUD FEEWS!!!”
I point at the stallion-turned-mare, unwillingly climaxing with Bruno.
“See?”
“Damn. I shoulda made that bet before they got started.”
“Is it just me, or did trying to hold that big O in only make it more… uh… intense?”
“Oh yeah. Try that when you jerk off, bro. It’s amazing.”
“Dude, TMI.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright.”
We look at the pen again. Bruno’s pulled out and is catching a breather, and as Redmond and Blutarch keep their eyes on the stallion-turned-mare, the rest huddle together to decide who goes next.
“Wow, there’s a lot of… stuff leaking out of her now.”
“And that’s just from two stallions, Ash.”
“Jesus tapdancing Christ, Chuck! How full is she gonna be when they’re all done?”
“Honestly, I think she’ll be pregnant with a thousand foals after this. We might get to witness an actual fluffsplosion.”
“Dude, fluffsplosions are a myth, everyone knows that.”
“I dunno, bro. I’m pretty sure the ChaotiX has an exploding fluffy.”
I shrug, conceding the point.
“Fair enough. So, are we gonna give that bitch a name? I mean, we’re only keeping her around until she’s had those foals.”
As another stallion moves in, Chuck grins at me again.
“How about we just call her Limp Biscuit?”
“Like the band?”
“No, like the game. The one where a bunch of guys stand around a biscuit and j–”
“YeahokayIgetitnowthanksChuck. Frankly, I was thinking that we just call her something like Cumbucket, but Limp Biscuit is… slightly more clever than that.”
“We’ll ask if anyone else has any ideas, Ash.”
“After the show.”
Yeah, this bitch is gonna be sticking around for a while.
Figuratively and literally sticking around. Fluffy cum would make for a pretty handy adhesive in a pinch if it wasn’t so gross to use semen as glue.
So maybe you’ll get to see what happens after this.
Maybe you won’t.
But rest assured…
Those stallions are gonna be going at it for a while. The rest of the afternoon, for sure.
Maybe after the stallion-turned-foal has had her first litter, we’ll make her go through this again. And again, and again, until she deeply understands what she inflicted on our town’s mares when she was a stallion.
Maybe she’ll learn her lesson, maybe she won’t.
We’ll just have to wait and see.
