Raising red pt.2 (swiftbitches)

“BIGGESHT POOPEHS!” Purple screamed as her body convulsed with pain, wave after wave rocketing through her body. She panted through the pain, writhing and squirming in the cozy little nest she was sat in, her legs barely able to move her bloated body.

Red shot up from his nest on the other side of their scrape, startled from his nap. He blearily stumbled over to his sister’s side where he sat a comforting hoof on her back. The foals that had been scrambling and rolling around in the dirt, cowered as they watched the purple earthy whimper and toss her head in pain.

“Wha’th goin’ on Wed?” A long legged green foal sprinted up to hug Red’s leg. Red barely glanced down at the camo green colt before shaking him off in favor of comforting his sister.

Moments later Martin came scrambling through the opening of their little home, alerted by his special friend’s cries of pain. His mouth was stuffed with sweet looking flowers and soft leafy plants meant for his pregnant mate, he threw the mouthful aside and stepped across the little den to nuzzle Purple’s neck and murmur soothing words in her ear.

“Why babbehs huwt mummah!” Purple sobbed, kicking and thrashing about.

“Stahp, stahp!” Martin put his fore legs around her in a tight hug, “It otay, it aww be otay. Babbehs nu tryin to huwt mummah, gibben’ biwf just huwties. Once babbehs out aww dah huwties wiww go away.” He spoke in a low, smooth tone, stroking her mane as she clutched at him. She slowly calmed as she listened to his soft words, nodding as he spoke, hiccuping and wiping her tears into his tummy fur.

“She habin dah babbehs?” Red had wide terrified eyes, he’d never witnessed birth before, only seen the product, and so far it was scary. His poor sister wriggled about in agony trying desperately to find a comfortable position from which to give birth.

“Yus,” Martin stared down at her belly with a loving expression as he softly pet her side, “Dey am gon be Martin’s babbehs.” He cooed, his chest puffing in pride.

Purple screamed, interrupting the stallion’s proud moment, as a tiny wet body slid out of her and plopped into the nest behind her. Martin wriggled out of her clutch and rushed behind her to begin vigorously licking the birth off of the squeaking ball of fur. He picked up the little tan foal and set it in front of Purple for her to continue the licky-cleanies, a small reprieve from what felt like her insides trying to claw their way out.

In the end, Purple had given birth to three colts and a filly, all perfectly healthy and peeping loudly for their mother’s milk. Martin leaned down and gently sniffed the two suckling on Purple’s milky places. Both colts, one a tan unicorn and the other a blue alicorn. Martin’s snout wrinkled as he leaned to sniff the little colts. He could smell it, the soft delicate weakness of a grass nummer. His nose turned from one to the other, the smell growing stronger as his nose hovered over the little tan colt.

He yanked the foal off of Purple’s breast and dropped it at her rear before replacing it with a dark brown alicorn colt. It lay peeping on the dried grass and fur, wailing and groping at it’s mother.

“Why Mawtin do dat! Babbeh was dwinkin miwkies.” Purple stared at him in confusion, glancing at the scared little baby with worry. “Is…is babbeh sickie? Didn’ smeww sickie to Puwpwe.” She whimpered and fidgeted with the edge of her nest.

“Babbeh nu gewd, not wike Mawtin. He gonna num gwass, dese babbehs gon num wed nummies jus wike Daddeh.” He stared down proudly at his brood. He’d make an army of these little monsters to get revenge on the stupid grass nummers that always put him down and called him a monster, even when he had defended them with his life!

Purple’s eyes lingered on the little foal for just a few seconds longer before her gaze turned to the foals squirming against her belly. “If yu say babbeh isn’ gewd den Puwpwe bewiebe yu.”

Martin’s eyes lingered on his mate as her head wobbled back and forth, her eye lids drooping and a relieved smile on her snout. A happy squeal broke Martin from his daze as a mass of foals swarmed around the nest to gawk and prod at the rolly polly little newborns.

Purple shot up in a panic, her head whipping back and forth as her tired brain tried to process the new influx of ear peircing shrieking and colorful bodies wriggling around the nest.

“Nunununuuuhu!” Purple sobbed, crouching over her foals and fluffing out like an angry chicken who was having her eggs stolen.

The foals shrank back with shocked looks of terror as the over stimulated mare curled in on her foals, weeping and casting panicked glances at Martin.

“Cum on.” Martin growled to the foals and jerked his head towards the entrance of their little den. The foals sulked away, their tails tucked between their legs, leaving pee and scared poopies in a messy trail behind the foals.

“Oh Wed?” Martin looked back at the red pegasus whose head shot up at the mention of his name, “Can you clean dat up?” Martin absentmindedly waved his hoof at the drying hoof prints and stains on the otherwise spotless den floor.

Red’s nose wrinkled at the thought of putting his tongue anywhere near the shit sprayed across the floor. He cast a questioning glare at Martin, lifting a disgusted eyebrow.

“We don’ wan dah babbehs to get sickies fwom dah poopies.” Martin smiled, his tone cold and harsh. Red shook his head in irritationand leaned to stare at the mess.

"Why can’t yu do it? " Red mumbled as he inched towards the urine soaked mud and shit stains.

“Why?” Martin snarled through gritted teeth at the question, “Du yu fink Mawtin am poopy shit eadew!!” His pitch rising as his wings flung out and sparks soared from his horn. “Yu fink Mawtin shouwd eat da poopies cause he fukin bwown!” The alicorn was practically shrieking at the poor pegasus as he scrambled back into his corner.

“Nu! Nu!” Red flinched at each curse that Martin threw at him, tears filling his eyes, “Jus mean dat dey am yu babbehs, why yu nu take cawe ob dem? Wed cwean up poopies now!” Red launched himself at the mess and began lapping at the dirt, turning his tongue brown with dust and feces. His face twisted and he gagged at the taste but continued out of fear for huffing, puffing alicorn that glowered down at him.

“Gewd.” Martin snarled and whipped around, stalking out of the burrow’s entrance. Foals were already galloping and rolling around the grassy clearing. He slowly counted the foals that skipped and skittered around the bushes and ran through the grass. One, two, three, four, five…five? His eyes grew wide and his head whipped back and forth as he trotted in panicked circles. Where were the other three?!

A flash of dark red and warm sunset yellow caught his eye from the top of the toppled tree that was their home. Peering through the bushes that had grown over the rotting tree trunk Martin spotted a tiny unicorn filly balancing precariously on top of her maroon and camo green brothers. The little triangle of foals wobbled dangerously back and forth as the filly stretched for the bright red and striped berries that dangled above them.

“What am yu doin up dewe!” Martin squealed clutching his head as he stared in disbelief at the dangerous situation the foals had gotten themselves into.

The foals jumped at Martin’s yelp and teetered on the edge of the log for a dangerous second before regaining their delicate balance.

“Whad thu mean ged down?” The camo colt squawked, “We twyin’ to get dah wed nummieth!” He grinned, twisting to look at Martin, almost sending his sister toppling off of his back.

“Wed…what awe yu tawkin bout?!” Martin dragged his hooves through his mane as he desperately tried to figure out why his charges had gotten themselves into such a situation. If one of them fell and broke their necks or legs…he’d be forced to eat them now before they were ready.

“Dah wed nummies! Yu said gud fuffies eat wed nummies an dese am wed nummies an’ we am gud fuffies!” The filly declared as she batted at the berry above her.

Martin scoffed and removed his hooves from his head, the panic instantly quelled and replaced with indignant irritation.

“Yu don’ eat wed nummies.” He snapped, “Yu am just gwass nummews, so ged down now.”

“Oh…” The little filly mumbled in disappointment as she clambered off of her brothers. She wondered what the difference was between “red nummies” and “grass nummies”. The foals carefully shuffled down a stick that they had positioned to be able to climb up to get the red nummies.

“Don’ du dummeh fings wike dat ebew again.” Martin growled at them as the three began to sulk back to their siblings. Camo glanced back at Martin with a mopey pout on his face before going to curl up under a bush.

Speaking of red nummies, Martin hadn’t had fresh meat in quite a while. His stomach growled at the thought of the soft tender flesh that surrounded him, jumping and playing without a care in the world. But he couldn’t eat them, not yet. They were still too small and thin, they needed to fill out more before he could finally feast.

“Wed! Cum watch dah babbehs, Mawtin nee’ go get nummies.” Red poked his head out to give Martin an irritated glare, a small ring of dirt around his mouth.

“Why shouwd Wed du dat, yu made Wed num poopies!” He snapped and made to go back in the den, his tail flicking in irritation.

Martin sighed and before putting on a soft smile, “Pwease? Mawtin wiww owe yu if yu watch dah babbehs jus dis once!” Martin pleaded putting his hooves together.

“Hmmm…Fine.” Red turned to hide the excited grin that he was struggling to keep contained. He already knew what he wanted and Martin wouldn’t like it one bit.

“Oh fank yu!” Martin pressed his snout into the pegasus’s neck and gave him a small affectionate lick on the cheek before prancing out of the little clearing to finally get some good food.

“Oh gewd nummies, Mawtin cumin to find yu! Nummy nummies, whewe awe yuuuu?” Martin hummed as he searched through the undergrowth and dug through any bushes and hollows that a fluffy might reside in, looking for any sign of hoof prints or tufts of brightly colored fur.

His eyes caught a flash of giant clumps of dark blue fur and bright red strands of mane stuck in the thorns of a large bush. He rubbed his nose against the soft tufts of fur, inhaling the sweet smell of a scared, trapped fluffy and…the familiar smell of another cannibal fluffy, a mare!

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A challenger approaches! I wonder how the next encounter shall go. Great second chapter, love where the story is going so far. I wonder how much longer Purple will be kept around after this set of babies, will she be used as the new brood mare for free nummies or will Martin grow attached to these foals because they are his?

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Are you the guy who wrote about the cannibal… er… “jessibew?”

No that’s Shadysmarty.

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Ah, i thought thats where this was going, so i had to ask