Milk Thieves (By FJ668)

“Uhhhh, this is Eagle 12 reporting in. Can confirm that we do have visual on the micros. They are approaching The Mummah now.” Ignatius’ headset chimed in to let him know that operation “Milk Thieves” was good to go.

Team Leader Ignatius’ partner Billy was busy monitoring the over-head satellite feed of the seven microfluffies that had been abducted to perform this mission. Ignatius himself was set up at the communication center in charge of confirming phases of the plan and instructing the microfluffies themselves.

“Team Leader Ignatius Phase 1 is ready on your mark. Try to time this perfectly, every second of this operation is costing the tax payer fifty million dollars.” Eagle 12 reminded Ignatius. Ignatius was a loose cannon however, he did things his way and by god the agency knew that the man got results.

“Testing testing. One two. One two. Semen Chugger can you read me?” Ignatius spoke into one of the many microphones in the high-tech mobile command center.

“Huuu…Wosie nu wike nu namesie…whewe is nyu Munsta daddeh~” The red microfluffy asked as the experimental microfluff sized earpiece transmitted Ignatius’ words into the fluffy’s head.

“I’m inside your head retard. I’ve told you. Daddeh knows all. Daddeh sees all. And Daddeh will know you’re a bad fluffy if you don’t go over there with your little faggot friends and drink that mare’s milk.” Ignatius reprimanded the fluffy.

“The man’s crass that much is true but by god does he get results.” Joe Biden said to his fellow colleagues as they watched the poor little microfluffy and her herd approach the sleeping fluffy mare.

At a massive cost to John Q. Taxpayer the microfluffies had been trained over the course of an afternoon for their task. Of the seven micros only two of them weren’t silently "Huu Huu"ing in a fluff pile. Only Rosie Codenamed: “Semen Chugger” and Pickles Codenamed: “Terrence” were willing to approach the mare.

Slowly they started to suckle at the mare’s two crotch teats, their gentle suckling nearly waking the mare up. Over the course of about a minute both the Microfluffs had drank their fill of the milk. The mare’s milk production had slowed a decent amount as evidence by the slowly increasing suction from the two micros.

“Micros are huuing. Administering sonic punishment.” Billy said, turning up a dial on his control panel to get the micros moving.

A series of micro-speakers hidden inside of the fluffy’s skeletal system played Beethoven’s 5th Symphony with enough base to actually vibrate the fluffy’s bones. Microscopic hair-line fractures split open their bones. Not nearly enough to make them immobile but enough to cause severe pain.

“You little cocklicks better not cost us this mission. Now two of you get over there and drink your damn miwkies!” Ignatius once more reprimanded the fluffies.

Weakly Codename: “Smeg Baby” and Codename: “Horse Nuts” reached the mare once more and began to suckle. The mare was drained enough to where the two of them actually had to knead her crotchtits to get more milk out of them. A “satisfied” burb ended with the mare finally drained of her milk.

“Mummah is drained of her miwkies. Phase two of the operation is primed and ready.” Ignatius said, turning a golden key on his control panel that did little more than provide a cool visual.

“Alright. Cock Rocket and Snuffles. You will go over to her three babies and give them all sorry poopies.” Ignatius commanded two of the three microfluffies who were still inside of a fluff-pile.

Through teary eyes “Foal Enfer” a fluffy especially unpleased with his name nodded at Cock Rocket and Snuffles. It knew what would happen to them if they disobeyed their new Munsta Daddehs. They both slowly walked to the poor babbehs, turned their rear to them, and absolutely blasted them with feces. The scientists back at the lab who acquired the micros made sure to feed them on a steady diet of Liqui-Shit (The leading brand of Fluffy laxitive) and dairy-based products.

The foals tried to scream out once the liquid shits woke them up but unfortunately their lungs were too filled with feces to actually make a sound. Instead they flailed around wildly in a combination of distress and disgust trying their best to get their mother’s attention. She could not hear them, instead the mare was asleep with a smile on her face thinking that her babbehs had drank all their miwkies in her dreams.

“SHUT THOSE FOALS THE HELL UP! GIVE THEM SOWWY HOOFIES RIGHT NOW!” Ignatius shouted to the two micros who did the shitting through their earpieces. The foals couldn’t make any sound, however Ignatius didn’t want this mission to be a bust merely because they had a moment to breathe beyond all that heinous micro-fluffy shit.

Cock Rocket and Snuffles quickly started to smash their little hooves down onto the foal’s faces. After a few moments the micros had bashed their heads into the ground below very nearly killing the two of them. Though their lungs were now free of shit the only sound they could make was a low gargle due to how badly their mouths were damaged.

“Uhhh…Ignatius this is Eagle 12 again. Can confirm to you that the Micros’ phases are both complete. Within optimum range of phase three along with two other foals asleep and uninjured.” The satellite crew gave Ignatius a go ahead for the third and final phase.

Ignatius leaned in close to a seventh microphone in the mobile command center. With a quick clearing of his voice he shouted into it.

“MUMMAH! SABE BABBEH! DUMMEH MUNSTA POOPEH FWUFFIES GIB WOWSTEST HUWTIES AND STEAW MIWKIES!” A speaker set up in the alleyway called out for the fluffy mare.

Of course it wasn’t actually one of the mare’s foals but it was enough to wake the mother up in a frenzy of scaredy poopies and fury. In a blind rage the fluffy saw two of her beaten down foals, four microfluffs burping up the milk made for her precious foals, two micros with blood on their hands, and a final micro who had shat himself out of fear of being caught.


“NUU! NU MEAN TO~” Cock Rocket didn’t even get to finish his sentence before the fully grown mare’s hoof came down on the defenseless micro. Its spin was shattered and his body was left paralyzed. However the micro would not have to suffer for long before the mother lowered her head and bit the poor fluffy’s head clean off.

Snuffles tried to run but found himself buried in an absolute avalanche of sorry poopies from the mother. The weight of the feces was too much for the micro to move. All it could do was wail out and spastically flail its arms in the hope that someone or something would save them.

“HUUU! NUUU! WISTEN! MUNSTAH DAD~EEEEE!” Semen chugger tried to say, a stomp from the mare making the microfluff vomit up a pink-mixture of its own blood and the stolen milk from its stomach.

Smeg Baby and Horse Nuts were both dispatched in equally vicious fashion from the enraged mother. Smeg Baby’s wings were bitten off before having both of his hind legs smashed in by the fluffy mare. Horse Nuts met quite the ironic fate considering the name that was chosen for him. He had his stomach torn open and his “tummeh sketties” briefly feasted upon by the mother.

Lastly poor Terrence had to suffer the longest death. Instead of the swift and painful deaths that his fellow herd-mates felt the poor Micro had to weather the onslaught of “Wowstest huwties” that the mare gave him. With the much larger fluffy sat on top of him pummeling her hooves lightly down onto him Terrence only died when he eventually suffocated.

“TUUU SCAWY!” Exclaimed Foal Enfer, the last of the Microherd. He had actually managed to escape the alleyway and the furious mother. Managing to run an astounding 7.2 feet away where he ran into the foot of the only official who was actually on the scene at the time.

“Foal is insubordinate, abandoned the mission. Safe to assume he was in the act of high treason. Will be taking the micro to Guantanamo Sorrybox.” Hedley said into his communicator.

“Understood. Give him hell Hedley. This country doesn’t need traitorous cunts like that ruining god’s great nation.” Ignatius said, sealing the fate of the microfluff to what would be months of torture, humiliation, and sorry enfies.

The mission however was a success. At a cost of roughly 8.7 billion dollars to the tax-payer the US Government unraveled one of science’s greatest mysteries.

Mares do not like Milk Thieves.


I hope this is actually just a couple of larpers rp’ing. ~sigh~

The studying of psychological damage on Fluffies makes up roughly 40% of The United States of America’s yearly budget.

That’s like saying “I hope aircraft carriers is actually just a couple of Navy members Larping”


Just saying it felt more like the collective delusions of a couple of abusers looking for a theme for the lol’s.

~sighs and places another weight on the broken end of the scale of ‘why do I still pay taxes?’ ~