You are Chuck. A man in his mid thirties having found a job you didn’t hate with a decent work life balance. Not especially keen on humans you decide to invest your free time into a new hobby, fluffy ponies. Well one. A blue mare with a teal mane you’ve named Dawn. Months have passed since you first brought the small delicate creature into your home but for the most part it has been a rewarding experience.
You had tried to avoid the topic as long as possible but taking Dawn to the fluffy park meant she eventually took an interest in babbehs. You did your research and made her wait until she was 5 months old as most vets agreed that it marked the fall off point for the risk of bitch mare syndrome. With confidence you found a local that frequented the same park who was up for letting their stallion breed with Dawn. This was of course the easy part.
Today you and Dawn are slowly walking back from the park. She has not been demanding, rather just excited, during her pregnancy. None the less she has packed on the weight. As she waddles even more ridiculously than usual you can’t help but feel a twinge of…sadness? This will likely be your last visit to the park before she becomes immobile.
Back in the safe room you set Dawn in her nest and slide it closer to the litter box, freshly cleaned so you don’t hear ‘nu smew pwetty huhu’ all evening. She smiles up at you tail wagging. “tank ou fo pawkie pway time daddeh. Dawn wub pawkie time an fwesh aiw gud fo tummeh babbehs” you scratch her head and leave her to her mummah songs.
To say Dawn was an exception in fluffies would be wrong. She was just one of the toys that actually managed to do what it was supposed to, entertain. Living in a world overrun by these biotoys did mean that many had less than ideal experiences with ponies. You yourself had been ambushed by smarties making demands and sad mummahs asking for nyu homsies. Dawn was a good pet and you would never hurt her but… you also couldn’t deny the fun you’d had kicking that smarty trying to shit on you or beating that feral that had gotten into the back yard. It had the gall to attack your sweet girl who could blame you for breaking its leg.
Okay so perhaps you were not an angel but the idea of going out and catching these things just to torture them or even buying them to break them seemed like a bridge too far. If nothing else, you would keep Dawn safe. You knew you had a weakness for poopie babbehs another reason to avoid alleyways, and so you had been adamant in teaching Dawn that all babbehs were good babbehs. She seemed to have it down, now you’d have to wait to see if it paid off.
“Mummah wub babbehs…Babbehs wub Mummah”
You are Dawn an overjoyed Fluffy Soon-mummah. Your daddeh let you have babbies and you were so excited to finally see them. Also you were so tired from dragging your tummeh all over. But daddeh put you back in your nest and now you could sleep. If it weren’t for that itch you’d probably already be sleeping. Your milkie places had been growing more and more so you assumed it had to be from that but as you lay there the itch changed and you dreamt of feeding your first babbeh.
Bright time has come and you wake feeling much better. You blink and look around the safe room imagining all the playing you’ll do with your babbehs. Its time to make peepees, you reach a hoof to stand from your nest and find its just barely touching the ground, your tummeh has grown more. You struggle but get up and with a difficult shuffle, waddle just far enough to back your peepee place over the litter. You sigh with relief as you empty out. Sniffing for daddeh’s coffee you smell something no pretty. With a stretch you crane your neck to look at your tail. Its got some poopies on it. Your heart flutters, did you make bad poopies?! You look back to your nest and see nothing there, you are confused.
“Daddeh!” you call and soon he is there with you still sitting over the litterbox.
“good morning Dawn, did you get stuck?” he smiles coming closer. You are nervous to let him see the poopies but know daddeh will help.
“daddeh…n-nu smew pretty.” You lift your light colored tail revealing the flecks of brown in it “ Dawn nu mean mak ba poopies” he sits on the floor next to you and pulls you closer.
“Thats ok Dawn I’m sure its probably something to do with being a soon mummah” he grabs wet wipes and gently starts to clean your tail “There all better”
Daddeh always knows how to make you feel better. “Tank ou daddeh, Dawn twy hawdeh no make bah poopies in tail.” you hug daddeh and he goes abought his morning. You know he has work today and has to leave, but he comes back and he leaves the tebe on for you. You num your kibble and push a blockie around since you can’t stack it. You stop to watch the leggie show and wiggle your legs with the fluffies on the screen. You hear “yay weggies!” and agree but the show is on a commercial now.
“wen daddeh come bak?” you hear and answer “daddeh come bak for dinneh” you answer but don’t understand why you asked something you already knew.
You play with blockies and push the ball but that’s too fast for you now. you eat some more kibble and then go to the litterbox to make good poopies. As you do the itch is back. Its on your tummeh where you cant reach but also your spescul place. “wai itchy? fwuffy nu can scwach” then a tingle in your milkie places it makes you wanna lay down. Right there in the litterbox. Lay down and sleep.
Chuck arrives home to find his fluffy sleeping in the litterbox.
This was rather concerning, sure fluffys got paranoid about making good poopies but this seemed a bit much for the little bits you had to wipe off her this morning. As you get closer you see she is smiling and your fears start to fade.
“dwink milkies babbehs gwo big…” she mutters and you cant help but chuckle. Her back leg is kicking in her sleep too!. This feels like such a precious moment. Then you note her back end is spasming too. You crouch down to get a closer look and see that her tail has poop in it again. You push it aside and hear something eeeepp! Before you can look closer Dawn wakes up
“Babbehs! Wewe babbehs daddeh? Need finish milkies an…” she clenches suddenly, and you wonder if she is about to miscarry, but it passes and with a sigh she relaxes.
“Are you ok Dawn?” you ask the mare now taking notice of your existence.
“Nu daddeh Dawn hab itchy on tummeh pweese scratch.” she looks desperatly up to you and you chuckle once more. With a gentle touch you roll the fluff on her back and go to give her belly scratches. But before you do you see an off-color patch of fluff between her crotch tits. It moves. Startled you pull your hand back. It moves again this time the reddish-brown lint ball makes a sound, no not a sound words!
“Munsta! nu see nu mowe” it says. Wait is that…a micro fluffy? You had heard of them but your fluff mart was not big enough to carry the specialized fluffy options. You pick it up resulting in a screech of “bah Upsies, no huwt soon mammuh, spescul fwen help!” its no bigger than a newborn chirpy and is extra round with twice fluff and a face wet with milk. The mare’s crotch tits stick out more than your regular sized fluffy and did it just call for a speciall friend? On its back looking up at you it opens its eyes and shits. The crap pools in the palm of your hand mostly flowing back into the creature’s fluff.
“So you’re the one causing Dawn’s itches? And you’ve been drinking her milk?” you question the cotton ball with legs.
“mummah nee milkies fow babbehs, pweeze nice mista no hurt mammuh” it pleads to you but this has an unexpected effect on Dawn who gasps
“MILKIE FIEFE! Ou steall Dawn’s milkies?! Nee milkies fow tummeh babbehs! Hachu!” her maw snaps at your hand and you realize she is trying to eat the fluffy you’re holding. Even angry your fluffy is cutely ridiculous. You obviously don’t feel the same way she does about this thing taking some milk when the babbehs wont be there for a least a week. Back on Dawn you see her back side spasm again and look closer at her vagina.
“siwwy daddeh dat am spescul pwace no fow lookies” you ignore this standard response and see it. At the edge of her moist entrance is a grey puffball making a faint enf enf enf. You grab it with your other hand. Dawn may not have been able to notice it but this thing was violating your fluffy. It would be easy to crush it, but you don’t. With finger and thumb you hold it up by its scruff.
“dummeh Hoomin wet wint finish bigges enfies” between its stubby legs and amid the soaked belly fluff you can see the small red stick of this stallion. You face Dawn and reassure her you’ll take care of this. You stand and take the things to your kitchen. The clutter on your counter is finally paying off. You drop the two into a box and look down on the trapped micros.
“ok is it just you two? This is your special friend, right?” you question the pair but the mare says
“no dis no spescul fwen, spescul fwen is wif west of hewd” it seems as if rather than your yard your fluffy has been invaded.
