“Pwease mummah,” Bricky was begging, “Mummah an fwuffies need to wun away… Daddah am munstah… wiww awways huwt Emiwy an fwuffies… weawy badwy… need wun away.”
Emily looked down at the little fluffy, who had been put back in the sorry box for the last three days. David had been awfully cruel, using a hand held taser to repeatedly electrocute Bricky. Then, he had left him in the sorry box, with water this time, but with no food. Then he had shat on Bricky, and told him that was the only food he would ever eat again.
Then, he had taped an iPad to the inside of the box, to show Bricky some “fluffy TV”. The monster had found fluffies being abused, on some of the worst hell holes of the internet, and had compiled them into a half hour loop, which repeated every hour, at high volume, so Bricky couldn’t even sleep. It was horrific stuff, fluffies being burned alive, disemboweled, having their eyes, legs, and genitals removed.
Emily had been so disgusted, she had tried to stop him. David had simply tasered her, then raped her again. There was nothing she could do.
Poor Bricky had had his fur removed, with bikini wax, and Emily had had to listen as Bricky had screamed and begged, until all his pretty white fluff was gone, revealing a skinny and bony fluffy, with a scarred body underneath. Emily knew how painful the waxing procedure was, and really felt for Bricky.
Hearing David coming, Emily quickly gave Bricky the last handful of grapes, which he wisely hid under his belly, in case David came to check on him. He would eat them quickly too. Emily put the lid back on, and pretended to play with the other fluffies, who felt so sorry for their brother that they had promised not to tell.
“Do you want me to cut your fucking legs off?” I asked Fauntelroy.
“NUUU! Nu wan wose weggies!” Fauntelroy said, literally pissing himself with fear.
“Do you want me to smash your balls into a pulp? Like I did with Shitbrick?”
“Nu daddah! Pwease nu take FaunteWoy speciaw wumps!” he begged, and started crying.
“Then FUCK her!” I commanded, pointing to Beatrice’s cunt, which was held open with clothes pegs, as her struggling body was held in place with straps and harnesses from the same chariot that had broken his leg a few weeks ago.
“But daddah… Beatwice am FaunteWoy sissie… an Beatwice nu wan bad speciaw huggies!” he protested.
“And do you think Emily wants bad special huggies? No, she hates it, but I fuck her anyway. Thats the whole fucking POINT! That’s why its so FUN! Now come on!”
Fauntelroy reluctantly approached his sister from behind. He tentatively mounted her, and then started to dry humped her, but it was a pathetic imitation of the “humpy game” they used to play, rather than the real thing. His cock was drooping rather than erect, so he was getting nowhere.
“Come on Fauntelroy, Fuck her properly!”
“Pweeeease daddah!” Fauntelroy begged, looking up at me with tears in his eyes, “Nu wan huwt sissie wiv bad speciaw huggies… nu wan… AIIEEE!!!”
Fauntleroy screamed as I tasered him, making him twitch and fall to the floor. I would have to do this the old fashioned way. Flipping him onto his back, I grabbed a hold of his little fluffy penis, and started slowly wanking the weeping pig-hamster.
“Pwease daddah! Nu huwt no-no stick! Nu huwt speciaw wumps!” he begged, wriggling and trying to escape. I held him down and didn’t stop. Being male, his penis started to react to the stimulation, even though he was crying.
“I won’t hurt you if you fuck her properly. I want baby fluffies and you are going to make them for me with Beatrice.”
“Nuuuuuu!” the fluffy carried on crying. For a little while, I thought it wasn’t going to work, but I persevered, and after a few minutes, he was sporting a little pink erection, about the size of my little finger, naked and poking out from his fluff.
“Good boy Fauntelroy!” I praised him genuinely. I was going to get baby fluffies to torture and torment!
“Now to get Beatrice ready,” I annouced, before roughly inserting a finger inside her little fluffy cunt.
“AIIEEE!!! Nu!! Daddah! Nu huwt speciaw pwace! Fwuffy speciaw pwace am nu fow daddah to touch!” Beatrice begged and screamed and finally started to cry, “Huu huu huuu… Daddah nu wuv Beatwice… huwt Beatwice speciaw pwace… huu huu huu…”
Wanking two fluffies at the same time probably earned me a special place in hell. If there was a hell that was. I laughed and decided that there was a hell after all, and that the fluffies were already there. I just happened to be Satan in this particular slice of the Universe.
“Ok Fauntelroy, its fucking time, unless you’d prefer me to cut off your no-no stick and special lumps?” I asked him, raising a pair of garden secuteurs for pruning roses, which would chomp off his genitals in a single bite.
“Nuuuu! FaunteWoy wiww do it!” he said with enthusiasm born of fear.
Approaching his sister from behind, he mounted her, properly this time, and penetrated her from behind.
“Nuuu! Bwuddah! Stoppp!” Beatrice whined.
“Am sowwee Sissie!” Fauntelroy apologised, crying as he started to plunge in and out of her.
I watched and laughed. Fauntelroy looked up at me, the sadness in his eyes begging for the horror to end. His sister just huued to herself constantly, unable to escape the bondage or the fucking.
“How wong tiww finish daddah?” Fauntelroy kept asking, and every time he asked, I just waved the secuteurs near his balls, which made him start fucking his sister even faster. After a couple more minutes, nature started to take over, and he was humping away with gusto, secretly enjoying raping his own sister.
“Huu huu huu… Nu huwt Beatwice… huu huu huu…” Beatrice cried
“Enf enf enf… huh… huh… enf enf enf…” was Fauntelroy’s only reply, as he gasped and thrusted.
“Nu wike dis! Pwease stop bwuddah!” she begged, but it was too late.
“Enf enf enf… huh … uuuuughhhhh… guuud feews!” Fauntelroy groaned, orgasming inside his sister’s bleeding hole.
“Hahahah!” I laughed, “That’s how you do it my boy! Did you like it?”
“Uh… it feew guuud daddah!” said Fauntelroy, smiling, ignoring his weeping sister and apparently happy that I was so pleased with him and had put the secuteurs down.
“Good one Fauntelroy my boy. And I want you to keep fucking her until there are definitely babies. At least three times a day, or there will be no food, and I will cut off your little leggies and special lumps… talking of which…” I laughed to myself, and went to torment Shitbrick some more, telling him that his brother and sister had had special huggies, and that there would be baby fluffies soon.
A few minutes later, I saw that Emily was comforting Fauntelroy and Beatrice, not that Fauntelroy needed it. He was preening about being the bestest fluffy, and making “guud feews” and “guud babbehs” in “sissies tummeh”. His pride at my approval of him seemed to be enough to protect him from the fear I knew he had, but this didn’t help Beatrice, who was weeping pitifully.
Over the next week, I made Fauntelroy fuck her several more times, and on each occasion both of the fluffies cried, begged and wept, although as time passed, Fauntelroy cried less and less, and seemed to enjoy it more and more. After just a few days, Beatrice’s belly started to swell, and it was obvious that babies were on their way.
“Look at your belly Beatrice! Your pregnant!” I exclaimed.
“Yes,” Said Princess Beatrice, looking down at the floor, “Beatwice am soon mummah.”
“Oh come on Beatrice! Where’s your enthusiasm? Baby fluffies! Baby fluffies!” I yelled.
“Wiww daddah wuv da babbehs? An be nice to dem?” asked the scared pregnant fluffy.
“Of course I will!” I told her, “So long as they are good fluffies. If they are bad, I will hurt them. Very, very badly. And I will make you watch while I do it. Then I will hurt you too, for being a bad mother.”
“Nu wan be bad mummah!” she whimpered, “Wiww be gud mummah! Beatwice pwomise!”
“And your babies?” I asked her.
“Dem wiww be gud babbehs! Beatwice pwomise! Pwease nu huwt da wittew babbehs daddah, dem am onwy tummeh babbehs… huu huu huu…”
The torment of a pathetic pregnant fluffy was just too hilarious. For a moment, I wished I had two pregnant fluffies, so I could cut the belly of one of them open and crush all her babies to death in front of them both, creating despair and terror at the same time. Oh that would be so delicious. Maybe some of the babies would be female? I could make Fauntelroy fuck his own babies.
“Beatrice, I need you to say something for the camera,” I told her, pointing an iPad at her.
“What want Beatwice say daddah?” she asked me.
“You have to say, Shitbrick is a horrid fluffy, Beatrice hate Shitbrick. Beatrice want to poop on Shitbrick!” I said, laughing to myself.
“Dat am mean daddah! Beatwice nu fink Shitbwick am howwid. Beatwice wuv bwuddah,” she said, tearing up.
“Do you want me to kill all your babies?”
“NuU! Nu huwt babbehs! PWEASE DADDAH!” she begged. At the sound of her shrieks, Fauntelroy jumped out of Emily’s lap and ran over, begging me too.
“Nu daddah! Pwease nu huwt FaunteWoy an Beatwice babbehs!” he said, then started crying, “Huu huu huu… Daddah nu wuv fwuffies… nu wuv fwuffy babbehs… huu huu huu…”
The both started crying pathetically. I watched in satisfaction for a few moments, then explained what they had to say if they wanted me to love them and their babies. They reluctantly agreed, and I filmed them both.
“Beatwice nu wuv Shitbwick nu mowe. Shitbwick am dummeh-stoopid-howwid-ugwee fwuffy. Beatwice poop on Shitbwick,” the little fluffy sniffled and stifled her tears as she spoke.
“Fauntewoy fink Shitbwick am wowstest howwid ugwee poopie-fwuffy. FaunteWoy fink it gud dat Shitbwick have nu speciaw wumps or no-no stick. Shitbwick can neva hav speciaw huggies wike FaunteWoy have. Can neva have babbehs wike FaunteWoy have… huu huu huu…” the end was slightly spoiled by him crying, but I could edit that part out.
I put the video on to the iPad in Shitbrick’s poop dungeon, and alternated it with the fluffy torture videos, on constant repeat. After just a few seconds, I heard him weeping, no doubt closing his eyes, but unable to close his ears or his heart to the ultimate betrayal from his brother and sister.
I left him in there for another week, only taking him out to beat him and rip out his fluff with bikini waxing strips.
Every so often, I would find one of the other fluffies, trying to talk to him through the box, crying and saying they were sorry. Any time I saw this, I kicked them.
Later that day, I waltzed into the kitchen, feeling a sense of enthusiasm and well-being which I hadn’t felt since… possibly ever.
Setting a frying pan on the burner, I added olive oil and crushed garlic. Gods it would be good to use a garlic crusher on a fluffy’s special lumps! I decided I would crush one of Fauntelroy’s testicles as a punishment, but only after the babies in his sister had been born. Then, I would torture them horribly in front of the parents. I would insist on a second brood, because the first group of babies would all be “bad” or “wrong” in some way. This would mean that the one bollocked fluffy would have to fuck his sister again. Once she gave birth to the second litter, I would crush his other testicle! I would do this in front of Beatrice, and make sure he knew it was punishment for hurting her. She would approve, and he would feel he deserved it in some fucked up way…
I decided to cook up something special for Shitbrick, so I reached into the freezer and took out a small ziplock bag with a little lump of meat I had been saving for a special occasion. Adding it to the frying pan with some sesame oil, it defrosted and cooked in a matter of seconds. The fried garlic smelled delicious, and I knew that Shitbrick would be starving from a diet of nothing but turds, torture videos and sleep deprivation.
“Shitbrick? Oh Shitbrick?” I called out to him in a sing-song voice as I re-entered the conservatory.
As I opened the box, the pitiful creature looked up at me in despair from his horrendous shit-dungeon.
“Would you like some food Shitbrick?”
Shitbrick only whimpered, no doubt expecting this was another trick, which, to be fair, it was. Even after a while of reasoning with him, he just whimpered and cried. I got bored, and hurled the little meaty snack I had fried for him into his sorry box.
Shitbrick blinked, and looked at the food. After frying it in sesame oil and garlic, it smelled delicious. Shitbrick was clearly starving, and had eaten nothing but human and fluffy turds for the last three days. He smelled the food cautiously, then leaned forwards and gave it a tentative lick, still semi-flinching as if he was expecting a beating. After a second though, his hunger overwhelmed his caution, and he nummed the food as quickly as he could, ignoring how hot it was, and barely chewing it. He swallowed it, and looked up at me, with tears in his eyes.
“F-fank you daddah… fow feeding Shitbwick nummies… Shitbwick am sooo sowwee. Wiww neva be mean to daddah eva again.” Shitbrick was swallowing his tears, and trying to beg without totally breaking down. “Pwease wet out of sowwee box now daddah… Shitbwick am weawned da wesson. Shitbwick know am dummeh-stoopid, ugwee howwid fwuffy. Shitbwick onwy wan to make daddah happy, an see bwuddah, an sissie, and Emiwy again…”
“Oh Shitbrick, you really are sorry aren’t you?” I asked him, trying to sound sympathetic.
“Y-yes daddah, Shitbwick am sowwee,” he replied, staring up at me dolefully.
“I’m sorry too Shitbrick,” I told him.
“W-weawy? Daddah am sowwee?” he asked me, finding it hard to believe what I was saying.
“Yes,” I replied, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the food I just fed you.”
“W-wa? Why daddah sowwee fow feed Shitbwick nummies?” he whined.
“Because… YOU JUST ATE YOUR NO-NO STICK AND SPECIAL LUMPS!” I declared in a state of total glee.
Shitbrick blinked. Then his eyes widened. Then he realised what I had done.
“Nuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!” he screamed, “Nuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!”
I took the opportunity to shit on him again, so he would have some food for the next few days, then I shut the box and left him to scream and cry himself to sleep.
Later that week, we had a wonderful feast.
It was a banquet, laid out on my dark oak dining table. Lord Fauntelroy and Princess Beatrice were sitting in their little medieval costumes, excited about the food, but still quivering in fear every time they thought I wasn’t looking. Emily was the same. It was the exact same set up as family dinners with my father; my sister and I, trying to avoid his wrath and punishments.
“Chef, bring in the food,” I commanded.
The chef brought in a large steaming pot of bolognese sauce and… spaghetti! The fluffies wriggled in their seats.
“Sketties! Sketties!” Princess Beatrice squeaked with excitement.
“Daddah? Am sketties fow fwuffies to num? Weawy?” asked Fauntelroy, a little more cautiously.
“Yes, the sketties are all for you to eat!” I told them, and the feast began.
I sat back and watched as the fluffies ate their sketties. They were so happy, and it warmed my heart to see them. Despite my love of tormenting them, I did love my fluffies, and seeing their happiness was making me happy. It was a smug happiness though. My real happiness was the anticipation of eating the next course.
“All finished?” I asked, watching the fluffies lick their plates clean, “Did you like the sketties?”
“Yes! Dis am da bestest day of fwuffy wife!” cried Beatrice, her belly bulging with babies.
“FaunteWoy wuv daddah!” said Fauntelroy, burping. Even Emily looked happy.
I was so excited I could have rubbed my cock with glee.
“Bring in the next course!” I commanded the chef.
He brought in a large silver platter, covered with a platter lid. As soon as she saw it, Emily’s face turned white as a sheet.
“What do you think the next course is fluffies?”
“Chocowat?” guessed Beatrice.
“Mowe Sketties?” guessed Fauntelroy.
“Wrong!” I said, lifting up the platter lid, “It’s your BROTHER! We’re going to eat Shitbrick’s LEGGIES!”
Emily, Fauntelroy and Beatrice looked on in horror as the lid revealed Fauntelroy, now totally bald, crying on a bed of lettuce and cheese. The fluffies wailed and started crying as my chef, a cruel and heartless Korean man, lifted him up and placed him on a chopping board.
“Daddah! Pwease nu huwt bwuddah!” begged Beatrice
“Nu take bwuddah weggies! Pwease!” Fauntelroy screamed as my chef lifted the cleaver.
“Bricky!” Emily howled.
THUNK.
“SCREEEEEEEEEE!”
Fauntelroy’s leg was spurting bright red arterial blood. The Chef did not pause though, and quickly brought the cleaver down again and again and again, cutting off his other legs. Then, he used a blow torch to cauterize his wounds. Emily stood up and almost said something as Shitbrick screamed the house down.
“What?” I asked her, cutting her off before she could even finish thinking, “What? Did you want to SAY something Emily?”
Fauntelroy was screaming over and over, Beatrice was huuing herself hoarse, and Fauntelroy had filled his pantaloons, shitting himself with fear.
“There’s nothing you can DO about it Emily. If you try, I will hurt the other fluffies too. Then you. You are helpless and you are my slave, and you will never forget it.”
Emily sat back down, and started weeping. I pretended not to notice or care that Fauntelroy had shat himself, and he pretended he had not done anything.
Shitbrick’s screams faded to a whimper, and the chef started to fry his legs with butter and garlic.
“Oh look Shitbrick,” I said to him, “He’s cooking your leggies!” My chef was silent as a ghost, he was paid far to much to care.
Shitbrick could only close his eyes and weep.
“Do you know who is going to eat your leggies? There will be one for me…” I started, in a sing-song voice, “One for Fauntelroy… one for Beatrice… and one for… Emily.”
Emily looked up at me in shock, her tear streaked face running black mascara down her cheeks.
A few moments later, I savoured their expressions as I ate the first of Shitbrick’s legs. Then I watched as each of them in turn choked on his meat and squishy little bones. The legs were much larger than the baby fluffy’s which I had eaten a couple of months ago, but no less delicious.
The meal was wonderful.
Later, I slept.
I awoke.
Darkness. I tried to roll over, but couldn’t. Something was holding my wrist… it was… one of my bondage cuffs?
Emily! The bitch had drugged by wine! I knew it tasted off… and I’d become so tired…
My legs! The bitch had me by my ankles too, and both my wrists… what the fuck was she…
Confused… still drugged, like, really, really drunk… kind of didn’t care, but…
I felt her, mounting me, holding me down with her thighs. Rubbing her sex against my cock… arousing me.
I had friends who swore by dominatrices, but I always felt I had to be the dominant one. Had I been wrong?
I was fully aroused now, and she enveloped me with her pussy. She was soaking wet, and rode me hard and fast.
I came inside her, and later she came to. Had she ever done that before? I could not remember.
Suddenly - PAIN. My face! What the fuck was she doing to my face! PAIN! PAIN!
The bitch! She was smashing my face with a hammer! My nose, my jaw, my cheekbones, my TEETH. The fucking whore was smashing me again and again with a hammer, breaking my face and ripping me apart. I could only scream in agony, but that just made me choke on my own blood.
“How do YOU like it?” the bitch screamed at me. The WHORE! The fucking CUNT! I would BURN her! I would SKIN her!
“Its not so nice when its happening to YOU is it?” the cunt said to me, I would make her suffer so much more… her pain would be so exquisite… it would be…
SNICK.
I hand exploded in pain.
SNICK.
The cunt was cutting my fingers off with the secuteurs! I tried to scream again, but choked on blood and teeth and pieces of bone. My jaw and face were a constellation of agony that flared with every heart beat. THE CUNT! How dare she do this to ME! How dare she!
SNICK.
“Aaaarrgghhhh… ghgh… ghgghhgg… cuhh…huhkk…kkhhk…” I screamed and gurgled.
SNICK.
SNICK.
The whore moved to my other hand… and took those fingers too. I couldn’t imagine pain worse than this… there was nothing so bad ever… nothing so bad as… oh no… god no… please! No!!!
My COCK!
SNICK.
I awoke.
Darkness.
I screamed, put my hands on my face, remembering.
It was all still there. My hands, my fingers, my face. My cock was still there too. It was just a dream, but still, it could have happened. My nightmare was a warning. Where was the whore? I decided I would punish her, just for hurting me in a dream. I would take HER fingers, I would take HER clitoris. See how she fucking liked it…
Where was she?
I heard a squeal downstairs. It was well known to me. It happened every time Shitbrick’s prison of despair was opened.
Shitbrick!
I ran downstairs, naked, not giving a damn. The fluffies were missing!
Looking in the conservatory, I saw the doors to the garden were open, a silk curtain flapping in the night’s breeze. Running over, I could see Emily, fleeing on foot, with the fluffies in two carry boxes, and a bag carried on her shoulders.
I ran to my gun cabinet. Taking my father’s favourite shotgun, the one I was never supposed to touch as a boy, I grabbed a box of shells, knocking it onto the floor in my haste, spilling the red bringers of death all over the hardwood floor. Grabbing a handful, I loaded the gun, and headed out, Emily hunting.
She had quite a head start on me, but it was three miles to the edge of my estate, so there was plenty of time. I thought about persuing her on foot, but then changed my mind and headed for my golf cart, just a hundred yards away. Why hadn’t the dumb bitch thought of that? Or stolen a car? Too afraid I guess. It was the reason humans would always be inferior to whatever fucked up species I belonged too. Psychopaths are specialist sexual parasites, we need human beings to fuck, exploit and hunt.
Getting into the golf cart, I turned it on and stepped on the accelerator, reaching all of 15 mph. It was ridiculous, but Emily didn’t stand a chance. It was a stupid, slow speed chase, but even so I had to dodge trees and ditches to catch the cunt.
“Stop Emily!” I commanded her, when I was close enough to shout, but the bitch ignored me.
“Stop! If you stop now, the punishment will be lenient!” I commanded her again, secretly hoping she would continue.
And continue she did, still running, desperate to save herself and the fluffies.
I aimed the shotgun at her smooth young thighs, and fired.
The shotgun roared, and Emily collapsed blood pouring out from the horrible mass of flesh that had once been her left thigh. She was too shocked even to be able to scream, so the fluffies did it for her.
“Nuuuu!”
“Mummah Emiwy!”
“Weggies!”
I opened Shitbrick’s dungeon, hearing his scream of fear, in anticipation of whatever pain or torment awaited him. I loved watching his little leg stumps twitch as his mind tried to flee, even as it was impossible.
“Shitbrick? Oh Shitbrick?” I said to him in the sing-song voice that meant impending torture and despair, “Do you want to see your family Shitbrick?”
The fluffy only looked up at me, and whimpered.
“Oh come on Shitbrick, you have to see them. You see, they have been very bad, and I have had to punish them.”
Shitbrick only looked up at me and blinked, trying not to cry. I could see white fluff was starting to grow back on his pink, starved body, meaning that another waxing was nearly due.
“Do you know WHY I have punished them? No? Well, it is all YOUR fault.” I said, lecturing the poor creature, hoping I might be able to milk some more despair from his near barren soul. “You see, all throughout this house, there are cameras. You know what a camera is don’t you? Of course you do, I let you watch TV all the time. Well Shitbrick, I have secret cameras all over the house, and do you know what I have seen?”
Shitbrick looked up at me, and whimpered again.
“I have seen Emily, feeding you grapes…”
A single sob, but he held his tears back.
“I have seen YOU, telling her she had to run away.”
A couple more sobs, soon the damn would break and he would begin to weep again.
“It was YOUR idea to run away wasn’t it SHITbrick? That means it was YOUR fault. That means the punishments they have had were YOUR FAULT TOO.”
This was too much for him, and he started to cry. I listened to his huuing for a short while, then picked him up, feeling him flinch at my touch as he always did. I carried him downstairs, into my wine cellar, which I was converting into a dungeon. We passed row after row of wine racks, with bottles dating back to the 1800s, collected by generations of my family. In the distance, the sounds of weeping fluffies was like music to my ears.
We turned the corner, and Shitbrick could see four tables, all covered with sheets.
“This,” I said, pulling back the first sheet, “is your new home,” I said, showing him a black leather pillow on a wooden table. Placing him down on the pillow, he had a good view of the other three tables. The sounds of crying fluffies came from underneath the sheets.
“Can you guess what is on the next table Shitbrick? Can you? Can you hear her crying? Can you hear… the babies?”
Shitbrick’s eyes widened and he looked over at the next sheet covered table. If you listened very carefully, you could just about hear the chirping. Pulling back the second sheet, I revealed Princess Beatrice, sitting on a pillow, with horrific pink stumps where her legs used to be. She was crying, and sitting in the fluff on her back were three tiny baby fluffies, all chirping and crying, starving for milk, which I had denied them since they were born, just an hour ago.
“Bu-babbehs!” cried Shitbrick.
“Bwicky! Hewp!” wailed Beatrice.
I laughed and laughed and laughed at them.
“Do you know why I cut off her leggies Shitbrick?” I asked him, but there was no response, “ANSWER ME OR I WILL KILL THE BABIES!” I roared.
“Nu! Shitbwick nu know! Nu know why daddah huwt fwuffies!” he blurted, choking back his tears.
“Its so she can’t run away again. Ever. Its YOUR FAULT Shitbrick. If you hadn’t given her the idea, she would still have her leggies, and would still be happy.”
“Nuuuuu huu huu huu huu… Nuuuuuuuu huu huu huu huu…” Shitbrick wept in hopelessness.
“Are you ready to see the next table?” I asked him, but Shitbrick just kept on crying.
“LOOK!” I yelled, grabbing a tiny baby and squeeeezing it till it squealed and chirped.
“Babbehs! Nu huwt babbehs daddah!” Beatrice wailed.
I poked her in the eye and hurled the baby back into her fluff.
“Owwiies! huu huu huuu… whewe babbeh? Whewe am babbeh?”
“Look and watch Shitbrick, or I SWEAR I will EAT the babies, right here, right now.”
Shitbrick stifled his tears and opened his eyes wide, looking at me in terror.
“That’s better, now, lets see what’s under sheet number two.”
I pulled back the sheet, revealing another bald, legless fluffy, that had once been the proudest of all fluffies, Lord Fauntelroy. Now, sitting on another black leather cushion, he was crying quietly, until I pulled back the sheet.
“Waaah! Munstah daddah!” he screamed, and his pathetic little stumps started twitching as he tried in vain to run!
“See! See what I had to do to him Shitbrick? And ALL because you said to RUN AWAY. Its ALL YOUR FAULT.”
Shitbrick cried and cried, but didn’t stop looking.
I picked up the garlic crusher and approached Fauntelroy.
“Fauntelroy, you have been a very bad fluffy,” I told him, and placed a garlic clove in the crusher.
“F-FaunteWoy am sowwee daddah! Wiww neva be bad agen! Wiww neva twy wun away! Wiww neva… huuu huu huuu… wiww neva wun ow pway eva agen… huuu huuu huu…”
Look Fauntelroy, look at this garlic. I crushed it.
“What dat daddah… huu huu huu… FaunteWoy nu unnerstand…”
“I’m going to crush one of your special LUMPS!” I told him, excitedly.
“Wa?? Nu! Nu daddah pwease nu huwt speciaw wumps!” he begged, but in a pathetic way which told me he already knew it was hopeless. Approaching him from behind, I placed his left testicle into the crusher. I only just fit inside.
“Nuuuu! Daddah pweeeease!”
With great satisfaction, I used my strength to crush his special lump into a fine paste.
“SCREEEEEEEEEE!” he screamed, “SCREEEEEEE! AIEEEEEEEEEE!”
I laughed long and hard, long and hard indeed. There was nothing better than this, but the game was not over.
“Munstah!” Beatrice was saying, “Daddah am munstah! Beatwice hatechu! HATECHU!”
“Really Beatrice? Have you learned nothing?” I asked her, letting the dead dark part of my soul spill out of my eyes and mouth. “You have to love me, or I will kill your babies.”
“Babbehs? Nu kiww babbehs… Nu!”
I picked up one of the babies, and managed to stuff its rear legs and abdomen into the garlic crusher.
“Nuuu! Daddah Nuuuu! Babbeh!!!” Beatrice screamed.
I crushed the baby horribly, turning its lower half into pink and red gore.
“CHEEEEP!” it squeaked awfully
“BABBEH! NUUUUUUUU!” its mother cried.
I laughed again. Longer and harder.
“Do you love me now?” I asked her, stroking one of the other two babies, who were chirping with fear.
“Y-yes…” Beatrice said, finally understanding, “Beatwice… wuv daddah… daddah am bestest daddah… huuu huu huuu…”
I threw the dying but still alive baby, in agony, into Beatrice’s face. It wouldn’t live long, and was almost a waste, but the look on her face was worth it. The other babies would outlive her for sure.
“Are you ready fluffies, for table number four?” I asked them.
The fluffies were all weeping, in agony, terror or despair, but the sight beneath sheet number four shocked even them, I am sure.
I pulled back the fourth sheet, and revealed the final, naked, limbless member of their family.
I had pillowed Emily. Now I could fuck her forever, and she could never run away again.
“Nuuuu!” cried Shitbrick, “Mummah-Emiwy! Nuuuuuuuuuuu!”
THE END …Or is it?
