Pretty led her little gang throughout the scrubby woodlands after they had finished their meal. Basil felt as if he would collapse at any moment from the lack of rest. After having not slept at all the previous night and experiencing a range of psychological turmoil, he felt unsteady on his hooves. Yet the mare who was keeping him captive forged on ahead. If she was tired at all, she didn’t portray it.
Eventually they would come to an overpass, largely abandoned by people. On occasion a vroomy would come by but it seemed otherwise vacant of humans. Yet it was clear that there was a sizable fluffy presence nearby: There were snags of their fur on nearby branches and a large pile of poopies that caused the air to stink. “Nyu hewd! Huwwy bwuddehs!” Pretty began to clip-clop toward across the road to inspect bottom part of the overpass, the area having a somewhat large access area that was closed off from the elements and prying eyes. As the group got closer, a scruffy white fluffy who was so dirty that it’s fur appeared black and brown would shuffle off to meet them.
“Dis am Toy’s wand! Gwue nu wet yew in!” Glue didn’t appear to be that tough, but Pretty didn’t want to cause any problems. Not yet anyways. “Oh! Smawty mawe Toy? Pwetty am wif bwuddehs ‘n speciaw fwiend. Su scawdies! Munstah!” She told him. Glue stood there for a long moment before nodding.
“Otay, Gwue get smawty mawe.” With that he trotted off to find Toy. She was helping a group of talkie-babbehs learn how to hide the bestest by curling their bodies in and snuggling up to grass or garbage. Upon being asked to meet the newcomer outside, she would breakaway and go off to the entrance of their little enclave.
“Munstah?” Toy asked curiously, looking to the five fluffies now in front of them. The brown ones were somewhat like her brother Sketti but different. They could walk, seemed to recognize some things, but didn’t make talksies at all. In others words: Special. It made her relax.
“Yis! Pwetty am see scawy munstah! It num bwown fwuffy!” Pretty babbled, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. This caused Toy to stiffen up immediately. One of her bestest friends, Mud, hadn’t come back in a long while from gathering nummies.
“Gwue, hewp dese fwends.” She told the apparent lookout for the herd, tucking her head down. If Mud was in trouble, she needed to help him. With that she was off like a shot, speeding away after Pretty had lifted a hoof to show off which direction she had come from.
Glue looked to the assembled group and nodded. “Otay, nyu fwends. See hewd.” With that, they were led inside.
The inside access area of the overpass had two chambers: The main one which those were without foals idled around, chattered, ate, bickered. Behind that was a small panel where the mummahs and their babbehs were kept, the access only large enough for one fluffy to squeeze through at a time.
“Hewwo nyu fwends! Am Pwetty!” The mare announced upon entering the main chamber. Basil had been shifted in close to her, and he gave a small whimper as all of the eyes roamed over them. Pretty might be a munstah mare, but there were lots of fluffies here. Surely her and the poopies couldn’t do anything to all of them. Most of the occupants of the main chamber were stallions, and upon seeing Pretty they would sneer with clear intent. She was definitely a welcomed addition to them, especially since Toy kept all of the mummah mares protected in their little room.
“Wan speciaw huggies?” One of them asked, a light blue and yellow ruffian who still had the tattered remains of a collar hanging on his neck.
“Bestest speciaw huggies.” Another agreed, this one red and green, bearing obvious signs of abuse. Someone had burned his ears, chopped off his tail, and permanently singed ‘ASSHOLE’ into his side with a soldering iron. There were perhaps ten stallions now excitedly talking about special hugs, and Toy wasn’t there to put a clamp on it. Mud would have been the one to take up the mantle if she was out, it was just too bad he was there in chunks in the bellies of the newcomers. Glue was perhaps third in charge, but he was among the ones clamoring for sex.
“Teehee! Stwonges’, bestest stawwions wan speciaw huggies? Hab ‘gu mawe wite hewe!” Pretty stepped away from Basil and shoved him out with one knock of her hoof, the drab olive male flying out and flopping onto his stomach.
“Am nu mawe!” One of the group protested. Clearly he wasn’t so easily going to be bait and switched.
Basil whimpered more. He knew what was going to happen. He just knew and there wasn’t anything he could do.
“Poopie pwace ‘n mouf bestest enfies!” Pretty told them, obviously going by what she’d heard alleyway rapists tell their unfortunate victims. There was some mumbling. “Pwetty wet yew pway wif mawe. But yew am wisten tu Pwetty! Pwetty an smawty mawe nao!” She told them mischievously. Toy kept a things orderly when she was around…but she wasn’t, now was she? Fluffies were anything but loyal at the best of times. They thought with their no-no sticks or their stomachs.
“Hmph! Toy nu wet stawwions hab speciaw huggies! Hae Toy!” The green and red abuse victim announced, glaring to Basil as he lay on the ground.
“Hae Toy!” Another parroted him, until the group of horny bastards had all lifted up in unison in a call against their leader who had been gone for a mere ten minutes at this point. Those who hadn’t joined in against her had gathered back in a corner, too afraid to say anything. They might not be treasonous but it wasn’t like fluffies were notoriously brave either.
The group began to encircle Basil but he’d decided that he would chance it. It was try or…well. Scrabbling up from the dirty pavement, the stallion attempted to break past the group. Pretty perhaps knew he would try such a thing and was quick to grab him by the tail, hauling him back as he screeched and flailed his hooves to be released.
“Basiw am su bad mawe.” She scolded him, placing a hoof down on his spine and pressing down so he was forced back on his belly. The apparently insanely horny stallions who had comprised Toy’s herd took this as much of an invitation as anything as one mounted him from behind, plowing into him without a moments hesitation. “S-Su gud…poopie pwace bestest enf pwace…!” He declared, another stallion mounting him from the front and forcing him to give wickies to his no-no stick.
“Teehee! Wittew mawe am makies saddie wawa!” Pretty teased and jeered him from the side one she had released her hoof from his spine, Basil crying profusely. It was clear that she loved seeing the poor wretch suffer. Once the first pair had finished with him, two more went to replace them. This went on seemingly forever. Pain almost seemed to fail to exist at one point. It was filled with an emptiness. He wanted to be back at home under his blanket with his stuffy-fwend, watching FluffTV. Why did his mummah have to hate him? Why couldn’t she just give him forever sleepies instead of this? He hadn’t even been a bad fluffy. He tried his best but this is what he got.
Finally it seemed like all of the stallions had finished with him. He was left in a puddle of his own hurty wawas and no-no juice. Pretty stood over him afterwards, giving her sweetest brightest smile.
“Dummeh mawe hab wowstest huwties. Teehee! Su su sadsies!” Getting up on her hind legs she did a cute little dance, front hooves bopping up and down happily. After mocking him, she went to meet with the group of now satiated stallions who were likely willing to go along with anything she said.
“Nyu fwends! Pwetty am bestest smawty mawe! Gib stawwions wots of enfies ‘n funsies!” This was different to what Toy had always told them. She was mean and never let them have gud feels when they wanted. All they did was work all day! Who cares what soon-mummahs needed? Only they mattered!
“Stwong stawwions hab enfies wif ebbwyfing!” Their new apparent leader assured them, and they gave a raucous cheering at this.
“Pwetty ‘an nyu fwends gib dummeh ‘ol smawty mawe wowstest huwties. She am ‘fo enfies naow!” Pretty went on. This caused one of the group of fluffies in the corner who were too scared to do anything to finally peep up.
“Buh…buh Toy is bestest Sissy! She am gud smawty mawe!” The lone interjector would try to reason with them.
This one was ignored. There was lots of chattering and excited hoof stomping. Pretty haughtily stepped over to the entrance of the overpass, smiling. Toy was in for a big surprise.
Meanwhile, the orange mare had finally found Mud. What remained of him anyways. His insides had been torn apart, bones broken and skin laying out in flaps of fur. Toy teared up as she looked at his face. That was still recognizable, though his head had been cracked open with the force of someone’s hooves. You didn’t live life as a feral to not be able to recognize what had happened here. She looked at the scaredy, pained look still frozen in his eyes as he’d died.
“….Toy am git munstah.” The smarty mare told him, looking off back the way back home. It was quite awhile to go, but she would hurry as fast as possible.
