Postpartum (EzPete)

Sequel to the The Stillborn so read that first.

Dee lay unmoving in her filth and the remaining dried blood of her dead foal. There was no reason to get up. She was no longer a mummah. She herself had no mummah or daddeh to cry for her. Just a meanie daddeh that would occasionally open her cage and force some kibble down her mouth and poke at her tender and swollen milkie places.

This continued for many bright times. Not that the fluffies in that windowless closet perceived the passage of time properly. The flickering fluorescent lights stayed on all day and the only thing that occurred regularly was the appearance of meanie daddeh. Bang He kicked open the door as he did every morning, chirpies that had been born the previous night began to cry and he went to scoop them up before continuing his rounds.

He flopped Dee over. “Bit melodramatic ain’tcha, Dee?” No response. He poked at her milkie places again. “Y’all ready for round two finally?” He phrased it as a question when it was in reality a statement. He scruffed her and dragged her from the cage.

She squeaked as her throat contracted in fear and the air in her lungs was forced out like a bagpipe. “Bad uppies…” she mumbled but did not protest much more than that beyond instinctually wiggling to stabilize her weight.

“First though, need to get rid of that stank! Shooeey!” He carried her into the hallway and past a line of doors like the one they had just left. Reaching the end, he plopped her down into plastic commercial sink and gracelessly turned on the water. Dee was blasted with a spray of cold tap water from a broken faucet missing its nozzle and finally began to protest with vigor. “SCREEEEEEE COWD WAWAS BA’ FOW FWUFFIE!!!”

He grabbed her by the neck and began to churn her around the water that pooled in the bottom faster than it could drain as the feces and gore in her fluff quickly mixed with her freshly voided bowels and turned it a dark brown. After a few forevers of this, perhaps a whole two minutes, he pulled her out and dropped her in a wire cage and turned on a shop fan which blew cool air over her like a jet engine before leaving.

Dee continued to scream about the cold but now also of the chicken wire hurting her feet and the loudness of the blowy monster. Her cries fell on deaf ears as the meanie daddeh walked into other rooms carrying out other chirpies and dumping them in a giant plastic tub.

He came back and turned off the fan, he reached into the cage to feel her damp fur, she imagined he was petting her to comfort herself, “dry enough!” He scruffed her again and carried her past the chirpy tub. The sight of dozens of writhing chripies screaming for milk and love unsettled her. “Bebbehs! Bebbehs nee’ mummah! Daddeh pwease sabe bebbehs! Wiww chirpeh bebbehs nee miwkies!”

They went through a door at the end an into a tiny room. The meanie daddeh pressed one of the many buttons on the wall and then they came back out the same door to another room. “Hey boss, got another one for the studs.” The other man yelled back from across the room “Good, drop her in the pen with the rest.”

With that she was dropped down on the hard concrete floor with a bunch of other mares. They had the full spectrum of suffering in their facial expressions: sadness, confusion, fear, despair, hopelessness were many of the adjectives that could be quickly applied to them.

This wasn’t Dee’s first time in this room, so her expression was one of fear. Still, fluffies were naturally empathetic in the absence of conditioning and she tiptoed over to the others and tried to hug a shaking yellow pegasus that still looked like more like a filly than mare that huddled a few feet away from the others, “Nuu be scawdies! Dee gib huggies an wub!” the new mare chirped and pulled away from Dee.

She gave up on that and moved to the fluffpile of sobbing mares. In the distance they heard a door open and a screaming mare before another door shut and the screaming silenced. The other mister walked up to the pen, “Who’s next?” He reached down as the fluffpile recoiled from his hand and desperately clung together. “Nuu take fwuffy!”

“Gotcha!” He scruffed the yellow one who began to peep and screech like a chirpie, letting out a stream of pee as he lifted her and carried her away. Another door opened and there was more screaming. The man came back again. The fluffpile again began to cling together. “I don’t know why y’all fight the inevitable!” He reached down looking for the easiest one. Obviously, Dee as she was not clinging onto the others.

“See, she’s a good fluffy that doesn’t fight back!” Dee felt comforted by his praise and coo’d despite the bad uppies and knowing what was coming. He carried her back into a room. The sight instantly made Dee void what had filled her bladder since the sink. An alicorn stallion, the same one that had given her meanie enfies before.

“Daddeh! Stuwd nu wun dummy ugwy enfie mawe! Wan pwetty wingy enfie mawe!” The black and white alicorn demanded. Dee was dropped on the floor in front of him. She tried to scramble for the door but was kicked away. “Put some baby batter in this bitch and I’ll make sure the next one is a Pegasus.” The man ordered before slamming the door and trapping Dee with ‘Stud’.

Dee was back in her cage, sobbing deeply. Huhuhuu She had tried to fight back but Stud forced her down, gave her sorry hoofs, and bad special huggies. She felt dirty like she had before but even worse was the knowledge of what was to come.

She loved her new tummeh babies, but she couldn’t help but feel sad. Being sad was the pastime of every mare in the room and perhaps the entire building. She ate kibble so they would grow big and strong despite never feeling hungry herself. She mumbled songs to herself as well. Sometimes she would try to talk to the other mares as she always had before, but now she understood why many stayed quiet.

One night, as had happened many times before, a mare gave birth. This time it was Dubbehyuu and Dee could see it clearly from her cage. She pressed up against her bars, desperate to help the aging mare. Double-U.

Rather than cry biggest poopies, Double-U began screaming about worstest tummy hurties. “Pwease bebbehs! Nu gib mummah pointie huwties!” From the back of her cage where she had curled up to escape the bright fluorescents to sleep she screamed and pushed. Dee could see the whole process from her cage. One after the other, the foals were slowly forced out. Each was covered in lots of boo-boo juice.

Three foals were expelled with Double-U who was getting weaker with each birth. On her fourth foal she went silent. No longer screaming or pushing. The foal hung halfway out with its head and front legs. A lovely shade of purple just like its mother beneath all the blood.

The foal, and its three siblings all peeped desperately for milk and love from their mother which would never come. Double-U was very old as far as breeding mares went and the horn on one of the pegasi had managed to punch a hole in the uterine wall. She experienced an internal bleed that managed to kill her and trap another two fetuses inside behind the purple foal.

One foal managed to start wiggling towards Double-U’s milky places but stopped halfway, slipping in viscera on the cold steel cage floor.

Dee watched intently. “Dubbehyuu nee wakies! Nu am done makin’ bigges poopies!” She cried out. “Bebbehs nee miwkies! Nu am sweepie times yet!”

She stood up and began shaking on her cage door. “Wakies! Pwease wakies! Sabe bebbehs!” she cried out for the next two hours as the peeping of the foals slowly grew weaker and quieter before finally ceasing. As Double-U entered rigor mortis the contraction of her special place crushed her foal and began to shriek as its fragile ribs were crushed.

All the mares were troubled by the noises, but they tried their best to ignore them as there was nothing they could do to help. Only the crying of Dee kept them from falling back asleep. Dee eventually fell asleep leaning against her kennel door.

BANG “Wake Up ladies! Where’s the youngins!? Them other mares in the next room yonder said one of yous was hootin’ and hollerin’ all night long about yer foals.”

Dee fell over and hit her head as she was abruptly woken. All the mares were exhausted from a lack of sleep and now being woken.

The mean daddeh was listening around for peeping that never materialized. “Well, I guess thems lied. They’re fixing for a sorry stick come suppertime.”

He grabbed the kibble and began making rounds. Dumping it quickly in all the cages and moving on to the next room. He didn’t look closely in Double-U’s cage and overlooked her corpse and dead foals completely.

At dinner, Dee faintly heard the mare’s in the room just before theirs getting whipped through the wall. The high-pitched screaming managed to carry through the walls easily.

BANG “CHOW TIME LADIES!” He dropped food in the assorted bowls. “You ain’t eat yer breakfast Dubya! Gotta eat up if ya love yer tummy babies!”

He opened the cage to shake her awake. “Well shit!”

He grabbed a bucket and shoved the assorted fluffy corpses into it along with paper towels that he used to sop up all the sticky blood and viscera.

Dee pushed up against the bars of her cage. “Pwease daddeh Mistah! Dee wub bebbehs pwease! Bebbehs nee’ huggies an wub!”

He ignored her and carried them away. Later, a new mare, the yellow Pegasus from before was brought in by a strange man and shoved in Double-U’s cage.

The new mare began trying to talk to the others, much like Dee had when she was new. “Hewoo! Name am Dubyuu! Wut am yuu namesies? Dubyuu gun be bestest mummah ebah!”

Weeks later. Dee’s tummy babies were finally big enough to come out and some time after dinner she was woken by stomach cramps.

“BIGGEST POOPIES!” Dee cried. Giving birth to six healthy happy foals. Two earthies, a unicorn, two pegasi, and another alicorn. She nursed them all and was over the moon with happiness. She loved them all equally.

She curled up in a fluffpile and was ready to go back to sleep when just as she was on the cusp of dozing off, she jolted awake with a realization causing her foals to wake and begin peeping gently in distress.

The meanie daddeh would come in the morning and take them away. They needed her though. Who else would give them milk or huggies? Who would sing them mummah songs? They would begin crying in fear when he showed up and slammed the door and he would take them away.

She remembered Double-U, the old one. Her foals never peeped so the meanie daddeh didn’t find them until he noticed that she had gone forever sleepies.

Looking down at her foals she realized what she needed to do to stay with them. She stood up and placed a hoof on her unicorn’s tummy. It was the same shade red as her last forever sleepie babbeh. “Sowwy bebbehs” she whispered. “Nee gu fowebah sweepies su meanie daddeh mistah nu take yuu way.” Dee pushed down until it stopped crying.

Most of the mares were asleep and the few that noticed the crying foals were out of sight and could only ask if the babbehs were ok. One by one she crushed the chests of all her foals who became distressed at the fearful peeps of their dying siblings and smell of death they gave off.

She tucked them away in her fluff and went to sleep.


None of Dee’s foals peeped as she planned. She had won. The daddeh mister went about dumping food in the cages and was one his way out.

Dee pulled her foals out from under her and began playing and singing with them. She imagined them talking to each other as she puppeted them about with her hooves. She was so happy. She could be a mummah to this litter unlike her first one.

Dee hid her foals in her litterbox and ate her kibble. Unbeknownst to her, the litter absorbed the water from their bodies and help keep them from rotting.

Dee was very careful to keep them hidden when the meanie daddeh was giving them food or changing their litterbox. She managed to do this day after day. Her milkie places hurt since they didn’t drink any but that was ok as long as they were with her. She was the happiest mare in the entire building.

BANG Something was wrong, this was too early for dinner. They had just eaten. Dee began to shove her foals into the litterbox.

The meanie daddeh came over to Dee’s cage. “Hey there little missie. You’re a week overdue! We’re just gun’ take a lil trip to the doc to make sure there ain’t nu’in wrong with yer tummy babes. Kay?”

“Nu wan! Tummeh bebbehs am ochay!” Dee frantically called back.

“Ain’t no hassle lil lady.” He said, opening the cage and reaching back to grab her. “'Sides” Scruffing her mane and pulling her to the front of her cage. “You’ll get some sketters fer yer trouble…”

He held Dee at eye level. A dessicated red foal was hanging from her mouth.

“What in the Got Damn!” Meanie daddeh yelled as he dropped Dee in the cart he had brought for her.

Reaching back into the cage he started pulling everything forward.

“Nuuu! Bebbehs! Wun way!” Dee cried as he pulled the litterbox out. Looking down, little tufts of multicolored fluff poked out, poorly buried in the clean end of the litterbox. Dee shook and clutched her mummified red foal in her hooves. One by one he pulled them out and dropped them in the cart with her. She frantically scooped them all up and hugged them tightly.

“Dewe dewe bebbehs! Mummah pwutec yuu fwom meanie mistah!” She chirped matter o’ factly.

“Are ya ‘tarded?” The meanie daddeh asked. “Thems all dead.”

“Daddeh Mistah onwy take chirpeh bebbehs! Dese nu am chirpie bebbehs! Dese am aww Dee’s bebbehs! Nu fow nyu mummahs ow daddehs!” She shouted defiantly raising her hooves for emphasis.

The alicorn corpse tumbled from her hooves and was quickly snatched up by the man. “Anuddah honest t’ god alicorn! But we gone have t’ do sum about yer loose screws. An’ stick yer sumwhere you ain’t gone have no more miscarriages. Let’s find you sum skettis an a nice soft quiet bed.”

He began pushing her to the elevator to get her to the vet for evaluation before transferring her to the prime breeder pens. “Just need to toss the trash first.”

Dee was singing a song to her dead foals. “Mummah su happeh! Mummah get skettis! Mummah su happeh gib gud bebbehs fowebah sweepies!”

He noticed the last words and stopped. “What the hell you just say?”

Dee recoiled. “M…mummah ge’ skettis?”

“Did yer just say you killed your foals?” He shouted.

“Dey am gud bebbehs! Nu wan yu tu take bebbehs! Mummah getchu keep fowebah sweepie bebbehs!” She turned to hold them away from him possessively for emphasis.

“Well, we gots us a problem missy. Dead foals go in the trash.” He said matter o’ factly and ripped the foals from her grip in a single swipe.

He dropped them out of view from her in garbage as she began to panic and hyperventilate. “Bebbehs! Mummah hewe bebbehs! Nu wowwy! Pwease Mistah! Dee nee’ bebbehs!”

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head missy. A crazy ass bitch like you is gonna be joinin ‘em.”

He scruffed her and held her over the garbage bin. She could see them on top while looking down. Beneath them were hundred of other foals, motionless or just barely wiggling and chirping. They were all dull colored pegasi and unicorns and assorted earthies.

Letting go, Dee fell a foot into the unwanted foals that had been sorted out from overnight collection. Dee’s mass managed to kill a few of foals that hadn’t starved since being taken from their mothers.

She flopped about trying to scoop up her foals and struggled as she stepped all over the writhing chirpies, her hooves maiming and killing with ease.

The living chirpies recognized the mummah smell Dee gave off and peeped with renewed franticness for milkies just inches away with what little energy they had left. She ignored them as she spoke to her own foals.

Dee rolled over onto her back and arranged all her foals in her belly fluff. She was so happy, she got to keep her foals after all!

Epilogue: Dee suffocates where the bag is tied up and she is thrown in a trash compactor.

Minor clarifications, this is an illegal mill somewhere in the middle of flyover country. Imagine it somewhere between the Methnostate and Howdy Arabia.

The worker we see in the story Is in charge of multiple rooms and honestly doesn’t pay attention to the mares or remember their names except that they are on the doors of each cage. Each worker receives basic instructions, and their pay bonus is based on how many profitable foals they produce.

Mental issues in fluffies are hereditable so being able to produce lots of alicorns is meaningless if those alicorns will grow up to be schizo like momma.


Man, W’s end was actually unnerving. No wonder all the mares were upset.

I suspect this took place somewhere in Oklahoma.


I’m not completely happy with how this turned out but it has been sitting as a draft for almost 6 months and I needed to finish it. I just couldn’t get it to flow and end exactly how I wanted.


I dunno, it ended pretty damn well. We knew she was damned when she crushed her foals.


Too lazy to compare word counts but I think it is 3x the length of part 1 when I had intended for them to be equal lengths. I actually went in and deleted 2 whole pages because I felt it rambled. I also had a hard time setting it up with the reveal so that she would get tossed in the chirpy disposal bin.


Also fascinated by the idea of a loving mother committing infanticide. Usually it’s either a psychopath or sociopath.


I liked the man’s dialogue…it’s a lot of fun when people play with speech patterns instead of talking exactly like they themselves would. Helps to really bring you in to a story.

Honestly Dee’s logic makes a lot of sound sense. For a fluffy. After all, can they realize the finality of ‘fowebba’? Could be they just think it’s a long time. Or that being ‘asleep’ (and in their care) would be better than being taken away. Honestly forcing her to be with them as they bloat with gasses and get covered in mounds of maggots would have been really goddamn satisfying as she watches her pretty things turn ugly, but the ending we got instead was much more grounded and fit the tone a lot more than that.

Good story.


“Today is a TERRIBLE day to run a foals-and-airline-miles scam”


Thanks for the feedback.

Yea, the smell would have tipped off the guy within a day or two like this first one.


"Has my cruel tactics driven this mare to disillusioned madness, where she actually believes her children would be better off dead with her than alive with me?

No, no it’s the Fluffies who are wrong."


Brutal <3 Another great story


God these types of stories make me think about how people breed dogs like pugs and bulldogs because it’s “cute “ but It’s not cause look at these poor things


Poor guys. Yeah, they’re cute, but they look more like chunky spiders than dogs.

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They can’t even jump up a fucking curb dude

Which is just ironic, given how bent their legs are.

Absolutely vicious. Glad to see this horrid mill back again, always my favourite setting for a depressing story. :black_heart: