This is a direct sequel to Dwinkie aww da miwkies, neba gwow up big an stwong🎶
I would recommend reading that first.
Enjoy…
Bubbles was rather happy with her forever baby, her precious, precious, forever baby.
She had named him Skittle due to him looking like the crimson colour coating that her favourite flavour came as and what with being barely five times the size of one to-boot. Although unfortunately Skittle demanded that he be called by his original name, Runt… in fact, he demanded a lot of things, silly notions like being treated like a stallion, being acknowledged as a Microfluffy, wanting to get away and most egregious of all, wanting his eyes back.
You see, Skittle had tried to make a run for it not too long ago and Bubbles quickly discovered that his independence could be aggressively linked to his faculties. It didn’t take much for her to bite down on the eyelids, peel them back, then crunch down on the gelatinous orbs and pull until she heard a pop and a snap. In fact it was rather easy, fun almost.
“SCREEEEEEE DAWKIES! NU WIKE! WUNT NU WIKE!” he screamed for hours after his DIY optical surgery. Bubbles found him to be quite ungrateful. But nevertheless he was her beautiful baby boy and she was going to put up with him, for now, at least until she found another baby with a better attitude.
Bubbles would curl up and sleep for the night in one of the local fluffy parks. Her favourite spot was a tree that must have previously been dugout around the base by foxes. Because it was a perfect den for someone of her size.
She would delight in playing with Skittle, making him dance like her little puppet, although he’d always scream and call her the nastiest things.
“Haytchu! Dummeh munstah mawe! Hayt… Yew! Gun gib yew wowstest sowwy enfies an foweva sweepies!” he’d threaten.
“teeheehee, siwwy bebbeh, yew am tuu widdle an yung fow speshew huggies, an nu am sposed tu hab dat wid mummah, siwwy widdle bebbeh!” she’d smile back before giving him a big and wet licky kissie on his face.
“Gwoss! Yew am nu wite in da thinkie-pwace! Enf off an wet Wunt gu!” he screamed and spat as he thrashed in her hooves.
“GASP! DAT AM BAD WOWDSIES!” she exclaimed before throwing him to the floor and pinning him with a single hoof.
“IB SKITTWE NU USE MOUTHIE WITE, DEN MUMMAH GUN TAYK ID WAY!” the bright blue mare growled, bearing her pearly whites only half an inch from his lips.
“yew wan Wunt act wike bebbeh? Otay, den gun act wike bebbeh!” he retorted before firing a keen free aim of hot piss and liquid shit into her chest fluff, sending the once pampered and spoiled mare into a disgusted rage.
“hehehe how wike that?!” the micro laughed triumphantly, “uh oh, bebbeh mayk messie, nee cweanies! Heehehe!” he mocked before sticking his tongue out as one final crushing blow to her ego.
At first he didn’t even feel it or notice, until the blood began pooling in his mouth and the nerves started to carry their horrid signals.
“SCEEEEEEE! OO OO WAWA AM BAD FOW FWUFFEH!” he gurgled with a mouthful of his own precious liquid life force and robbed of a fair few of the precious vowels that he had left.
He tried to dart for where he assumed the exit was but found himself running head first into a tree root.
“oh… Am sowwy bebbeh Skittwe, hehe, mummah wose tempew gain… Oops” she grinned innocently with her teeth and lips still stained and dripping with warm blood.
Being robbed of his only method to non-violent protest had sent Runt into a full panic. He shot up to his hooves again and immediately tried to make his way to the exit of the den, his energy at a spike in adrenaline brought about only through mortal terror and full blown mania.
Quickly he found himself pinned down with a hoof to his back.
“come hewe Skittwe, mummah gun mayk yew feww bettah, gib wicky cweanies an mayk bad boo boo wawa gu way!” she coo’d before flipping him over and abruptly shoving her tongue past his teeth.
The slimy stink and rotten taste of her tongue forced the helpless micro to gag as it violated his insides. Passing oxygen through his airway had become a near impossibility, his vision went black, the panicked and rapid thumping of his heart was all he could hear, he was ready to be free of her, he gave up the fight as he prepared for death… and then she pulled away with that same sickly sweet grin, so utterly devoid of malice yet unnervingly dangerous.
“
dewe… Aww bettah!” she coo’d.
That night Bubbles slept in the den and dreamt of what she always dreamt of, making more beautiful babies and swelling up like a big balloon before 100 million perfect foals appeared around her. Typically the breeding part of the dream was the quickest part yet for some unexplained reason she could not move past it. In her unconscious state she tried to force the dream ahead but the tingling sensation of her intimate area dragged her back to the beginning.
Slowly the dream and bright colours of her make believe world faded away from her grasp and those predatory and pale eyes awoke and struggled to adjust in the darkness of her den. When her ears left that ringing state that always followed her out of her slumber, she could faintly hear tiny and aggressive squeaks that came rhythmically to the beat of her tingles.
“enfenfenfenfeenfenfenf! -ayk dat! Dummeh mawe! Hay–u!” Runt grumbled spitefully as he smashed his undersized package against his adoptive mother’s genitalia.
“B-B-BAD BEBBEH!” she shrieked before instinctively getting up and kicking him some distance away with her hind leg, audibly cracking his ribs.
“HOEW DAWE SKITTWE DU DAT TU SPESHEW PWACE!” she hollard and huffed as she stomped towards him and stared the blind, semi-muted and vengeful micro pervert down.
She huffed hot air that sent terrified shivers down his spine and moistened the back of his empty eye sockets. Yet he smiled because he knew that she would finally end him for this most grievous violation and he would be free of her, he would have beaten her.
“a-am bebbeh nee g-gud feews? W-Weww… Nu can hab mawes cus am onwy widdle… Su… Ib Skittwe n-n-nee gud feews…” the psychotic mare huffed before stationing herself above the micro’s raisin of a phallus, “d-den mummah gun be da mawe dat g-gib dem…” she asserted before slamming her pelvis down and grinding aggressively against him.
As soon as she had begun, several cracks and crunches reverberated off of the walls of the den. Runt flailed and screamed as his lower half was flattened into a bag of bloody pulp, tenderized muscles and splinted bone.
“shhhh, it am otay Skittwe, mummah gun mayk Skittwe few gud!” she assured while gagging his cries with a hoof over his mouth and her other pinning his left foreleg in place.
“mummah… Am… Bestest… Mummah! Awways… Wook… Afta…b…b…B-B-BEBBEHS!” she screamed as her eyes rolled back and she coated the dying micro in her bodily juices.
“heeh… Heeh… Heeeeeeh… Wus dat gud fow widdle Ski-” she grinned confidently until she looked down.
The severe pressure and weight had caused several organs to explode from his mouth and scatter his teeth across the den, if he still had eyes they too would be bulging from his sockets and his nose and ears ran with hot and almost steaming blood. Despite all of this he was still somehow alive, still clinging on.
“a-am bebbeh otay?” she asked with a voice of genuine concern as she slowly lowered her ear to the wheezing mouth of the doomed microfluffy.
“wa-… wa-… wan… D-” Before Runt could even finish his last request, Bubbles had granted it with a stomp, a swift and callous hoof directly to the head, crushing it flat.
“BUBBWES NU WAN BWOKEN BEBBEH! GWOSS!” She declare as she rolled her eyes and then wiped the gore on her hoof off against the floor.
The daylight broke and the golden orb began its ascent in the east, Bubbles left her den with a chipper smile upon her face and a full stomach. There was a whole world full of babies out there, just waiting to be “adopted” by a mummah who’d do whatever they need, who will fulfill any desire, who will never rest until all the babies of the world are hers and hers alone… The world’s best mummah!
-the end?-
