This is a side story from the opening of Pyro: the Nitrofluffy. It is not necessary to read or enjoy this story, but it is there, should you want to see it from (quite literally) a different perspective.
Sody Pop had barely weaned off of her milk when she was plucked from her mother’s back fluff. That bad day happened so very fast, that she could no longer remember any detail about it, other than it being the moment that marked her new life. But this is not about her, not yet. This is about those that came before.
Her mother was called Kimmy, a single mare by the time Sody Pop was born, her partner being killed by a bachelor herd of smarties, along with her original litter. The gang of five had first sodomised and slaughtered her partner, before then stomping out her six tiny balls of peeping innocence and love. They took turns on the screaming mare, right in the middle of the street. First the head smarty got his piece, then his second, then so on and so forth, and by the time every fluffy had a turn with their new ‘enfie-mare’, the head smarty was ready to go again. Luckily for the traumatised victim, a rather garrish looking silver Ferrari was passing by and utterly obliterated the gang. The mare wasn’t spared either. Granted, she only lost the tops of her ears, her left foreleg under the passing tire, and her right hindleg’s femur, with it being completely shattered to splinters.
The feral crawled her broken and battered body to the alleyway from which she had initially been dragged, and then cried herself to sleep.
Kimmy had been a feral since birth, only being named after her mummah’s old owner to signify her position as ‘wowstest’, the broken mare knew the score of the world, she understood that nothing comes free. She was rendered almost utterly immobile by her battering, and so wriggled towards the trash that seeped from a hole in one of the binbags, just by her cardboard box home. As she chewed down on a third of a mouldy old hot dog and a handful of stale Fluffy-O’s, she considered how she was going to survive. She needed to rid herself of the products of rape that were beginning to gestate inside of her. She waited and cried loudly until a stallion came by, younger than her, barely a stallion, but definitely no longer a colt.
“a-a-am mawe otay? Namsie am Pax, wan hewp?” he asked with genuine concern.
And that was all she needed to pop the emotional seal and spill her guts, laying out her entire sordid tale to the horrified young stallion, with tear soaked cheeks and a snot bubbling muzzle.
“am su sowwies aww dat habin! Mawe nu deserb bad speshew huggies, nu fwuffy du…” he sniffled while trying to innocently hug her broken bones, roadside amputation, and bruised and bloodied genitalia away.
She begged him to hurt her, “pweas! Gib stompies tu tummeh bebbehs!” she cried, “dem fwom bad speshew huggies, dem bad bebbehs, pweas gib dem fowevah sweepies!” she pleaded.
“NU, NU HUWTIES WIDDWE SOON-BEBBEHS!” Pax stomped.
She feared this reaction, and it was to be expected. Pax seemed like a good fluffy, and any true good fluffy wouldn’t dream about hurting foals, born or unborn.
“I-i-ib… stompies soon-bebbehs, den Kimmeh gib Pax da bestest gud feews…” she promised, trying desperately to look sexually appealing in her horrid state. And luckily for her, Pax was a virgin, and completely dominated by his unstable hormones, in desperate need of enfies, yet his moral fibre appeared surprisingly sturdy.
“N-NU CAN!.. Speshew huggies huwt bebbehs” he protested sheepishly.
Kimmy could clearly see that she wasn’t getting anywhere. Pax, like all younger stallions, had aching nuts, unfortunately his aching heart was currently stronger.
“fine… wat ib… Kimmeh gib poopie pwace enfies, bu Kimmeh wan nummies fow id” she offered, trying to fight back the desire to gag at the thought of the act. If he was not going to kill these horrid offspring for her, then she would simply have to bide her time until she had the strength to do it herself.
“am dat nu gun huwt bebbehs?” the oblivious stallion asked, his fuzzy green head cocked to the side.
An agreement was then struck, that Pax would bring her food and every time he would, he’d get to dip his wick in her shitter. The first time was a humiliating experience, the pain, the embarrassment, the feeling of a private area being ravaged, it all made her feel sick. If Kimmy knew what a whore was, she’d feel like one, but survival was what mattered, and she knew it. What separates a dummeh mare and a smart mare, is when they give up and die.
It’d been a while now, fifteen days to be exact, since Pax accepted her proposal. He brought her whatever food he could find, and would watch her intently as the purple mare chewed away. As soon as her meal was finished, he would mount, insert himself, and collect what he was owed.
“eeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEE! poopie pwace huwties!” Kimmy screached as her ring was split with reckless abandone.
Pax used to be so gentle at first, he used to say “am su sowwy” for hurting her, and would even hug her afterwards to add something of a pillow at both ends to the experience, but that wasn’t the case anymore. Pax would no longer approach her with a smile, no longer directly put the food in her mouth, he would no longer watch and wait patiently, and he would no longer cuddle Kimmy when he was done.
The sixteenth day arrived and Kimmy awoke to a familiar shape waddling towards her. In his mouth was a mouldy banana peel that he haphazardly threw to her face. His glazed over eyes didn’t glimmer with innocence anymore, they were hollow. Pax wouldn’t even look at her, he rarely spoke to her at all, simply telling her to “num” before going about his usual carnel wants.
Kimmy sobbed into her banana peel as the stallion enfed away without a care. He finished with a drooling grin and then laid upon his back to recuperate. “Pax am su hungwies afta bestest poopie pwace enfies” he smiled to himself as he got up and snatched the slimy fruit skin from Kimmy’s mouth.
“WAI! NU FAIW, KIMMEH AN PAX HAB DEAW!” she screamed at him, but he didn’t respond as he walked away, he didn’t need to. As far as Pax was now concerned, Kimmy was merely a breathing and talking enfie-toy, a warm hole that occasionally cried and whimpered, and it would be silly to argue with one’s toys.
Pax returned the next morning, he had no food, he didn’t need any. “w-w-whewe am n-nummies… P-Pax?” the mare trembled. He said nothing, just staring, his bottom lip bitten and quivering.
“…Pax nu nee nummies…” he mumbled out, low and even, “…Pax git enfies wen ebah Pax wan…” he smiled. The familiar grin plastered upon his mug shivered the mare to the bone, she knew that lustful, maliciously and greedy expression; the face that haunted her cold and lonesome nights, that stalked her dreams and ever taunted her traumatised recollections. “nu wan poopie pwace enfies nu mowe, Pax wan da weaw ting, Pax desewb bestest enfies” he growled as he circled around the swollen ballon of a mare.
“NU WAN! NU WAN GAIN! NU BE BAD FWUFFY! PAX NU AM BAD FWUFFY, PWEAS NU DU DIS!” she screamed, and flailed, and begged at the predator’s advance. she kicked her one good hind leg, but it was worthless as an attempt. The green stallion simply swatted her flank until she became a blubbering mess, her worst experiences made real once again.
“Pax desewb bestest enfies, Pax git nummies ebewy bwite time, am su smawt, am smawtest fwuffy!” he drooled as he lined himself up against his intended cavity.
“pweas… nu…” Kimmy sobbed, her breathing broken into rapid hyperventilations as her nightmare returned in full. “Pax am gud fwuffy, am nice stawwion, nu wan huwties Kimme-eeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” she cried upon the dreaded penetration.
After a collection of violent and wet thrusts, the stink of blood filled the air. “eeewwwies, wat am dat?” Pax snorted at the coppery scent that flooded the atmos, before looking down and screaming in horror at the sight of Kimmy’s genitals and his own. A thick and chunky, red, gelatinous semi-solid coated his member, like some terrible conserve from hell itself. “SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, SCAWY!” the young predator panicked as a chunk of foal fell from Kimmy’s privates, squeezing through the passage way and landing hard upon the concrete floor with a wet splat. “NU WIKE! NU WIKE!” Pax screamed as he tried to cover his eyes.
half a head, some legs, a torso and quite a few nearly intact stillborns fell out, pilling up with a horrid slopping sound.
Pax ran, his ego crippled, his bravado shattered at the ungodly sight, never to return again, and if there were any justice in the world then this experience would follow him till his dying day.
Kimmy stayed on the ground, crying softly to herself. So much suffering in such a small amount of time. Kimmy could not recall a single thing she had done in her entire life to warrant such misfortune, and in truth it didn’t matter. She kept her face to the concrete and wept for herself, for her partner, Timber, and their beautiful six chirpies, all of which were naught but a memory and a handful of red stains in the middle of the road. Kimmy wanted so badly to join them, to sleep, sleep forever. What the mare wanted more than anything was to no longer need to be strong anymore, to simply let go.
Then she heard it, chirping, soft and weak, but peeping and sniffling all the same. “…hayt…yew…” she hissed through gritted teeth. The nerve, the audacity for this vile infant, this product of evil to live, even after premature birth, it was as if the universe itself had one final ‘FUCK YOU’ to deliver unto the mare, and she simply would not have it.
She gathered up her energy, she prepped her remaining foreleg, and in one quick twist, spun her body and prepared to silence thr loathsome child; and then she looked down. There was no evil, there was spite. In the recesses of her mind’s eye, Kimmy had painted vivid imagery of what these children were to become. Vicious and cruel, selfish and vile, just like their father, yet sniffing and squeaking up towards her was nothing of the sort. The foal was simply a premature filly, hairless, coated in viscera and begging for the warmth of its mother.
Her hoof trembled, still raised aloft like an executioner’s axe, ready for the fall. Kimmy tried, she wanted to, so badly she wanted to smash this fruit of defilement, but she couldn’t, this was her daughter, hers and no other’s.
-To be continued-
