Hey there. I’m an abuser. My name’s Lilah Carrey.
Yeah, I’m a woman.
There aren’t a whole lot of female abusers. We don’t really post on FluffChan’s /fa/ board, because every time we do, we just get assholes telling us “tits or GTFO”.
Ugh. Men.
Point is, we’re not as prominent as male abusers, but we’re around.
And I just got something that nearly no abuser with a Y chromosome has gotten his grubby man hands on, to my knowledge.
I know a guy who knows a guy who used to work at Faucheuse Tower.
He was fired for abusing one of Pierre Hugboxing Frog Douchebag Faucheuse’s test subjects.
And it was totally worth it, according to him.
On the way out, he smuggled out a box, containing something that had been recalled from Flufftopia.
Those hugboxing faggots would make a lot more money if they catered to us abusers. Just sayin’.
The box contains a ton of No-Foals Treats.
Apparently, there was something wrong with that batch, which is why they were recalled.
I had to suck my guy’s dick to convince him to tell me what they do, and then I had to fuck his guy to convince him to hand them over.
They’re both disgusting creeps who fucking suck at sex, but I put up with it, because if these treats do what I was told they do, it’s gonna be fuckin’ spectacular.
If they don’t, I just sucked and fucked two slimeballs for nothing.
Eh. It wasn’t that bad.
They were both done pretty quickly.
And they were both so small, I barely felt a thing.
After getting home with my new acquisition, gargling with mouthwash, and taking a long shower, I get dressed and head out.
I don’t live in fucking Korkeaopolis, so that stoner superhero wannabe hugboxer fuck and his hugboxer pals can’t stop me from abusing shitrats.
This is actually the same college town James Oldman went to school.
Everyone in the abuse community admires him. He went further than any of us ever dared to dream.
Sometimes I wish I knew magic so I could summon him from Down There and fuck his brains out.
I wanna have his demon baby. He’s not like those pussy hugboxing half-demons who work for the ChaotiX, James embraces what he is!
I always wanted to ask him out, but I could never work up the courage.
I actually want to go to Hell when I die, so I can finally be with James.
Oh, we could have been so happy together!
Ah, what could have been…
Point is, what I’m doing is legal here.
Since the college pussed out and removed those Foal-In-A-Can™ machines from the campus, us abusers need another source of playthings these days.
Fortunately, shitrats breed fast, so they’re not in short supply.
The local abuser community has actually been working to bump up the feral population just so we have a steady supply of playthings.
Everyone in town hates us for that, but we’re clever about it, so even though everyone knows who’s doing it, they can’t prove it.
It actually ended up turning a few people who had been neutral towards shitrats. They got so sick of the ferals begging and shitting all over the place, that they just snapped and started abusing shitrats too.
And then they realized that they actually enjoyed it.
I wander through the alleyways, looking for ferals. It shouldn’t take long.
I’m looking for mares, but I wanna find a stallion too, because I want to find out what happens when a stallion eats one.
I soon find a feral family napping together in a large cardboard box.
Two mares with the same colors, red fluff, purplish-red mane and tail. I’m guessing they’re sisters. One of them is pregnant. A stallion, blue and grey, and several foals. Judging by their colors, they’re the children of the stallion and the other mare.
Lucky dog! He bagged twins!
The box is kind of big, but shitrats aren’t that heavy, so I just upend it and carry it home.
On the way, I pass some scrawny pale dude in sunglasses, walking his dog.
And I’m calling it a dog because you don’t get wolves in cities.
As Lilah turns her back on the seemingly ordinary man walking a seemingly ordinary, if large dog, the man lifts his sunglasses, revealing blood red eyes as he looks down at his “dog”.
“You think she bought it, Rex?”
By the time I get home, the shitrats have woken up, and are now lodging various complaints, and the baby shitrats are chirping frantically.
Why oh why do they chirp like birds?
I tune it all out. I’ve heard it all before.
Then I interrupt their whining.
“Who wants a treat?”
That changes their tune.
The three adult shitrats start begging for treats. The foals keep chirping.
I place the box on the kitchen table, which I’ve covered in old newspapers. The box of treats I had to fuck a guy to get is on the counter.
We used protection, by the way. Relax.
Heh, that guy coulda used a thimble as a rubber.
I snap on a pair of latex gloves, and grab the pregnant mare.
I place the mare on the table.
“Nice wady am gun gib fwuffy tweat nao?”
“In a second. Wait here. Don’t jump off.”
I don’t actually care if she jumps off. She can’t, anyway. She’s at that stage where she can’t even walk.
I’ll probably go out and get a milkbag to keep the foals alive long enough so they can be released back into the wild.
Gotta make sure there’s more shitrats to abuse later, and these three chucklefucks sure as shit ain’t gonna be around to take care of 'em.
I turn to the two shitrats in the box, who have started complaining again.
“Wai fwuffy nu git tweat?”
“Fwuffy wan tweat tuu!”
“You’ll both get treats later. Don’t worry about it.”
They aren’t going to want a treat later.
But they’ll fucking get treats.
I walk over to the counter, grab a treat, and unwrap it as I walk back over to the table.
I place the treat on the table, in front of the pregnant mare.
“Here. Eat.”
So she does.
“um num Fank yu num num nice wady!”
When she’s done, I wait a few minutes.
All three shitrats look up at me, not knowing what’s happening.
Then the mare who ate the treat starts shaking.
frrrrrrrrrrt
And farts out a stream of blood.
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
The other two, and the foals, all end up splattered with blood.
FRRRRRRRRRRRT
A bigger stream splatters the other shitrats again. And the walls. And the floor.
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
Several pieces of dark red, slimy fleshy stuff come out too, along with several foals who were almost ready to enter the world.
Haha! No way! My guy was telling the truth!
It fucking melted her womb!
The mare drops dead.
“ghk”
Ah. Well that didn’t last long.
I look at the box of shitrats.
The other mare and the stallion are huddled together and sobbing, and the foals are chirping even more frantically now.
Then I look around the room and see the mess I just made.
“Goddamnit.”
I’m gonna have to clean this up before I test the treats out on the other two.
I leave the kitchen to find my mop and bucket.
Where did I put them?
As I’m making my way back to the kitchen, a mop in one hand, a bucket of hot soapy water in the other, I hear a sound through the open kitchen door.
blip
The fuck was that?
When I enter the kitchen, I see that the shitrats are gone. All of them, including the dead ones. I see the door leading outside has been picked open. The box of No-Foals Treats is gone, too.
I angrily drop the mop and bucket and stomp over to the outside door to see if there’s anyone running away with a boxful of shitrats.
Nothing.
Damn it! Where’s my phone? I’m calling the police!
Oh right, I never keep my phone on me when I’m out “shopping” for playthings. I don’t want it ringing while I’m sneaking up on them.
As I walk back across the kitchen, I realize too late that maybe I should have put the bucket down a bit more carefully, because it fell over, spilled soapy water everywhere, and I just slipped in it.
snap
Meanwhile, at the Faucheuse Foundation, Dr. Erwin Stahlberg examines the fluffy family just brought in by Henry Morris, vampire, and Professor Rex Sycamore, werewolf, now back in human form.
Henry picked the lock, but because he was unable to enter the house uninvited, Rex got the fluffies out of there.
The mare and foals they couldn’t save have been moved to the city’s fluffy cemetery. The box of No-Foals Treats has been destroyed.
Rex grins at Henry.
“It was a bit degrading, wearing a collar, but I’ve got to admit, it did the trick. She didn’t suspect a thing.”
Henry grins back at Rex.
“And even if she figures out it was us, the bitch will never be able to prove it.”
LILAH CARREY?
“Yeah?”
YOU WANTED TO BE WITH JAMES OLDMAN? NEVER LET IT BE SAID THAT THE MULTIVERSE DOESN’T GRANT WISHES.