You’re Ned, a decent enough guy, if overworked. Today is your day off and you have taken a nice walk in the park to clear your mind and relax. You round a bend along the path and hear noise coming from the bushes. A high-pitched babbling that could only come from a fluffy. You think of passing it by but then hear it crying. You aren’t a hugboxer perse, but you don’t want to leave creature hurt either if you can help.
You step into the bushes and come across a cream color mare with a bright yellow mane and her litter of painfully bright foals. She lays on her side with a neon purple pompom suckling from one teat and a brown babbeh on its back holding its tail tucked between its legs. This was the source of the crying. As the mare notices you, she smiles and gasps.
“Hewwo nice mistah! Wiww ou be nyu daddeh fow mummah mawgawine an babbehs?” you can see her attempting to make the uppsie pose with her front hooves despite being on her side. At the same time the foals begin to take notice and make their babbeh babble mirroring their mom’s request.
“Um maybe” you mutter unable to say no even to a creature you could dismiss and never see again.
“Yay!” she squeals but her joy is cut short as the peeping brown foal has righted itself and is approaching her nipple.
“Bad miwkie fiefe! No steal mummah’s miwkies.” she kicks it with her hind leg sending it rolling away “poopie babbeh go wa!”
Weakly it peeps and trys to crawl back but before it can get too close Margerine moves tail and grunts squirting a bit of shit directly at it. You are stunned not just for the cruelty but also the accuracy. The brown foal wiggles in the feces, it cant talk yet like its siblings, but its clear it does not want to be here.
“poopie babbeh num poopies! Wai no num?!” she asks. You find your voice.
“The hell was that!?” you demand.
“Bah wewdies! Mummah no wike.” is her response which is picked up and repeated by her mewling children.
“Bad words?! You just…that’s your baby! How can you do that it clearly needs to eat!”
“siwwy daddeh poopie babbeh num poopies.” she said it with a chuckle as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It made you seeth.
“What could possibly make it ok to shit on your baby” your fists clenched
“Oh siwwy daddy ou no unnastan. Mummah Mawgawine teww ou wha mummah teww hew” the fluffy huffs herself into a wide sitting position and places a cyan puffball onto one teat while the other was given an orange one. She takes a deep breath and begins her lecture.
“When mummahs have tummeh babbehs they come fwom hew peshul pwace. One day she feews bigges poopies and babbehs come!” she grins in delight
“But poopie babbehs…” her expression darkens “poopie babbehs come fwom poopie pwace. De no am weal babbehs jus poopies dat wook wike babbehs.” She puffs her cheeks
“Deh NO NEE MIWKIES buh awways wan miwkies. Deh am miwkie fiefes.” she glares at the brown foal still crying in a pile of shit
“Onwy nee num poopies but twy steal miwkies fwom udda WEAL babbehs. Onwy dummeh mawes gib miwkies to poopie babbehs.” Margerine huffs satisfied with her explanation to you.
You see it now. The stupidity of these creatures, that makes so many butcher them. The brown foal peeps again no longer able to cry. It is dying. You sit cross legged in front of the dirty cream-colored animal and she gets up. Her orange baby falls from her teat, but she pays no mind trotting over to the space in your lap. ‘well, that was easy’ you think.
In one quick motion you wrap one arm around her chest securing her in place, to which she remarks.
“Bestes daddeh huggies!” with your free hand you pick up the poopie baby and place it on her nipple. She begins to flail her legs.
“nuuuuu wai daddeh wet poopie steaw miwkies!?” her front legs are no problem, but the hind legs pose a danger to the foal as they try to kick it away. You grab one and snap it. She screams but you force her mouth shut. The others now approach on shaky legs. Two stay where they were, hugging each other for comfort and producing a puddle. The orange one is leading the others.
“Meanie mistah no hewt mummah! Pweeze!!!” it taps its feet and puffs its cheeks in the best display it knows. You hold the mare tighter. Urine seeps out from under her but there has so far been no fecal explosion which is a good sign. You keep this up occasionally batting away the siblings until the brown foal has had its fill it and rolls off the still swollen tit. She burps satisfied for the first time.
You are Ned and now you own a fluffy…and also a nurse or is this a milkbag? Whatever! Your brown filly sleeps in your shirt pocket as mummah swings like a grocery bag from your hand. You took each of the other foals and dropped them in a nearby nest to be taken care of. Of course, this was after you used them to clean up Margerine’s ass for the trip home. The last remark she heard of her “real” babbies was,
“Ewww ugwy poopie babbehs!” in your pocket the brown foal coos and you think you can live with this. Welcome to the family Sienna.
