A feral pregnant mare nested and birthed in my backyard a little bit ago. She got hit by a car looking for nummies one day and I decided to adopt and bottle feed the litter, lest they starve.
Few weeks come along all 8 of them (5 fillies and 3 colts) are healthy, exploring their safe room, interacting with each other and learning to control their bowels and shit in the litter box. There’s a cute little pudgy blue colt with a purple mane named Pebble can lose his temper sometimes. Doesn’t want to share his toys with his siblings, demands food when he’s hungry, puffs his cheeks and pees when he doesn’t get his way.
I feed them mostly kibble, grains and fruits with a cheap spaghetti dinner once a week,
Pebble especially loves sketties and turns into a squealing ball of joy at the mere mention of the word.
The day after spaghetti night I give them all their usual meal.
Pebble sniffs his bowl and grunts.
“eat your kibble, Pebble.”
“pebbwe nu wan nummeh kibbwe. Wan sketies gain!”
“pebble, you know spaghetti is only once a week. Now eat your lunch.”
“but pebbwe wub sketies! Daddeh bwink sketies fow widdwe babbeh pwease?”
“good fluffies don’t make daddy repeat himself.”
he stamps his little hoofpads.
“Pebbwe wan sketies! Gif nao!”
He puffs out his little cheeks in an attempt to look intimidating, only looking more cutely punchable in the process.
“if you don’t stop acting up I’m going to have to punish you.”
he stomps even more.
"Fwuffy nu am scawed of dummeh daddeh! Dummeh daddeh take pebbwe sowwy poopies!
He turns around with his ass facing towards me, lifts his tail and squeezes a big pile of shit right on his bowl of dinner while his siblings watch his tantrum in shock.
Looks like it’s time for corrective measures.
Leaving their saferoom and coming back with an old shoelace, I tie it in a little noose and hang it off the bookshelf over their playpen.
Pebble is still looking at me puffing his cheeks out like I’m gonna bring spaghetti if he does it enough. I pick him up under his belly.
“Put pebbwe down dummeh daddeh ow fwuffy gif sowwy peepees!”
I flip him over and wrap the noose gently around his fluffy little balls.
“Nu, weave speciaw wumps wone!”
And just like that, he’s suspended above the ground by his own testicles, his body weight stretching his nuts to unbearably painful levels.
“OWWIES! SPECIAW WUMPS WOWST OWWIES! PUT PEBBWE DOWN! SQUEEK SQUEEEEEK! HU HU HUUUUUU!!!”
“ENJOY YOUR NEW SLEEPING POSITION, SHITRAT! BET YOU’RE REGRETTING THAT LITTLE TANTRUM NOW HUH?”
“NU! NU WEAVE PEBBWE WIKE THIS! FWUFFY AM SOWWY FO BAD POOPIES! PWEASE DADDEH MAKE WOWST SPECIAW WUMP OWWIES STOP! SQUUU SQUEEE SQUEEEEE!”
“Now fluffies, your brother is being punished for his tantrum, so we’re going to leave him in here by himself so you don’t have to listen to his squealing. Eveyone else gets to sleep in daddy’s room tonight. Lets get in the carrier cage.”
“YAAAY, SWEEP IN DADDEH’S WOOM”
I make sure to hit the lights and close the door on the way out, leaving Pebble in darkness.
“Good night, Pebble. If you don’t make bad poopies or peepees until tomorrow I’ll make the owwies stop.”
“SQUEEEE! NU WIKE DAWKIES! NU WAN BE AWONE! NU WAN SPECIAW WUMP OWWIES! PWEASE PUT PEBBWE DOWN! FWUFFY WUV DADDEH! HU HU HUUUUU!”
~
The next morning I’ve brought the rest of the foals back into their playpen. A few are playing with a ball while the others are either drinking from their bottle or having a hug pile when i bring in a fresh bowl of homemade spaghetti.
“SKETTIES! Fank ou daddeh!”
Pebble still hangs. His ballsack must have grown at least an inch overnight being stretched like that. Somehow he managed to stop screaming in the middle of the night and managed to fall asleep. That or he passed out from the pain. I’m leaning towards the latter. Either way, the smell of fresh spaghetti is enough to stir him awake.
“S-speciaw wumps stiww huwtie daddeh… pwease make gu way…”
He meekly smells the air
“Smeww sketties.”
He looks down at his siblings enjoying their tasty meal, he’s positioned directly above the bowl, the smell directly reaching his nostrils but his meal out of reach.
“Wan sketies daddeh. Pwease, fwuffy am sowwy fo bad poopies. Pebbwe nevah be meanie gain. Pwease can bestest babbeh have bestest sketties daddeh?”
“Sorry, Pebble, you need to learn your lesson someday. Everyone gets to have spaghetti without you.”
“N-n-nu sketties?”
His voice trails off, on the verge of tears.
Then his sadness suddenly boils into unbridled rage, unlike anything you’ve seen in a fluffy before.
“Daddeh make pebbwe eat dummeh kibbwe, daddeh gif pebbwe wowst speciaw wump owwies, daddeh nu gif pebbwe sketies, DADDEH WOWST DADDEH EVAH! FWUFFY HATE CHO! HATE CHO! NU WUV DADDEH! PEBBWE GIF DADDEH FOWEVAH SWEEPIES!”
“For that little outburst, your special lumps come off!”
Just as fast as his sadness turned to rage, his rage turned to pure terror.
“Nu! Nu take pebbwe’s speciaw wumps! Pebbwe am sowwy fow meanie wowds! Fwuffy wuv daddeh!”
“It’s too late for that, fuck face, I’m making n example out of you to the rest of your siblings!”
He starts squealing and chirping and thrashing around in terror, and suddenly explodes shit everywhere. Damn, he really was taking what i said about not shitting seriously, couldn’t hold it in anymore in that moment of fear.
His sack goes between the scissors.
“Say bye bye to your special lumps, shitrat!”
“NU, PWEASE!”
SNIP!
He falls five feet and hits the ground in the pen. His balls stay in the noose.
“Huhuhu, nu mowe speciaw wumps, speciaw pwace wowst owwies!”
Then the meat cleaver coumes out of nowhere and down on his front leg. He’s passed out again.
When he comes to, his siblings are surrounding him. All four of his leggies are gone and he’s stuck in a corner of the litterbox with a short leash around his neck to ensure he’s stuck in place.
“Now, fluffies, your brother has been the worst fluffy ever, and the worst fluffy ever gest sorry poopies forever. I want you all to piss and shit on your brother from now on.”
“Otay daddeh, fwuffies wiw gif bad babbeh sowwy poopies fwom nao on!”
“Hehe, dummeh bwuddew is dummeh bad fwuffy poopy piwwow nao!” his sister says as she sprays diarrhea in his face.
The rest of the fluffies take turns defecating on their new litterpal while he recoils and squeaks in disgust and helplessness.
“Dummeh fwuffy take sowwy poopies fowevah! Dummeh bwuddah nevah weave wittabox!”
“That’s right, and he’ll never run or play or give huggies or eat sketties ever again either!”
“Huhuhu, nu won wuv pebbwe, pebbwe am onwe witta paw nao, nu sketties, nu huggies, nu smeww pwitty, wan die, kiww fwuffy, gif fwuffy fowevah sweepies…”
That was the last full sentence I remember him hearing. He kind of just shut down after that, sitting there looking all depressed until one of his siblings came over to crap on him, then he’d squeak in protest. But he got used to it after a while. He even tried eating shit a few times while desperate for food, but all it did was make him sicker.
Then he just went quiet one day.
Almost forgot he was there until he started to rot, since he was buried under a giant pile of shit.
At least he made a good meal for my worms. As one last insult to injury, I used the fertilizer he was made into and used it to grow tomatoes in my garden, which i then used to make fresh homemade spaghetti sauce for his siblings.
