Alright folks. Now we see Marty’s fate. Hope ya enjoy
Nice lady takes you out to the front room. It hasn’t changed much. You see the foals playing huggy tag in the foal play pin. You hear mummahs and soon mummahs singing to their foals in the back room. She takes you to the adult fluffy pin which you remember looking a lot bigger as a babbeh.
“Alright Marty. This is the stallion pin you guys. This is Marty. He’ll be staying here till we find him a new home… I hope.”
The last part she mutters under her breath.
You’re suddenly surrounded by Fluffies of all kinds. Hown fwuffies. Wingy fwuffies. An regular fwuffies.
“Nyu fwen?”
A blue earthy stallion asks.
“Fwuffy wan pway baw?”
A purple wingeh stallion says.
You’ve never been around this many Fluffies before. Suddenly one hugs you.
“Tag! Nyu pinkie fwen am it! Teehee!”
Suddenly he runs off along with everyone else. You run after them and play huggy tag. You think maybe you’ll like it here.
After a few minutes you hear a little jingle. All the other Fluffies look excited.
" GASP FWENS! IT NUMMIE TIME!"
The fluffy who is (IT) in huggy tag says.
All the Fluffies sit in the middle of the room. Nice lady walks over and opens the pen door. Then you see… The dark green fluffy you remember seeing as a foal walk in. He’s wearing a harness with the shelter logo on it like nice lady and he’s Carrying a blankey that has a whole bunch of bowls of kibble Nummies on it.
“YAAY! PICKWE BWING NUMMIES! WUB OU PICKWE!”
A yellow unicorn beside you yells.
“Pickwe bestest nummie findew. Fwuffy wish had pickwe in owd hewd!”
The same blue stallion from earlier said. You didn’t understand. Why did they all like this dark green poopy fluffy?"
“Hewe ou go fwens. Hewe is ou wunch Nummies!”
The others start digging in. Pickle notices your hesitation.
“Cum an git Nummies fwen. Dis bow am foh ou.”
He points towards a bowl of kibble. It’s only half the size of your old bowl at home. Daddeh never made you eat kibble. You tummy growls. You walk up to the bowl and take a single piece of kibble in your mouth. It’s not bad but nothing like your precious sketti. Maybe if you do like you did dummeh Daddeh
" PTUEY DEEZ AM TWASHY NUMMIES!"
Learning your lesson from stomping the bowl you do the next best thing. You turn around and take a big greasy dirt brown poopie right in the bowl on top of the kibble.
“GASP Bad poopies!”
Another fluffy says. You look towards pickle. You remember how your mummah taught you to treat poopy Fluffies.
“Dummeh poopie fwuffy! Gib mawty wickey cweanies ow get WOWSTEST HUWTIES!”
You expect to hear laughing and cheers from the other Fluffies. You realize you expected wrong when the blue stallion from earlier charges into your side knocking you onto the ground.
“SCREEE! HUWTIES! WHY HUWT MAWTY!?!”
The blue stallion stands over you.
“Pickwe am nu poopy! Pickwe am bwubewwys bestest fwen and shewtew hewds bestest Nummie findew! Ou apowogize wite NAO! Ow dummeh fwuffy get wowstest sowwy hoofsies!”
They’re defending him? You look over and see pickle crying being comforted by the yellow unicorn.
“Das okey pickwe. Bwubewwy sab pickwe fwom dummeh fwuffeh. Hab Huggies!”
He says Hugging him.
At that moment nice lady walks over.
“Hey hey what’s all the ruckus?”
She says looking at the pile of poop and the now crying pickle.
“Who made bad poopies?.. As if I had to ask.”
She looks at you still laying on the ground. Blueberry speaks up.
“Nice wady! Dummeh fwuffy make bad poopies in Nummie boww! Den he twy an make pickwe gib wickey cweanies!”
You feel yourself being pulled up by the scruff of your neck.
“EEEK! BAD UPSIES!”
She holds you there.
“Oh he did huh. Well.”
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a telescopic sorry stick.
“That’s four lashes. One for not eating lunch. One for making bad poopies. And two for hurting pickle’s feelings. He’s staff.”
She walks into the same room you were in when you got the bath earlier and sits you on the table.
“Pwease nice wady. Mawty so-WHACK SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
She wacked you on your back haunch with the sorry stick. You’ve never felt pain like this before. Daddy had a sorry stick but he never used it.
“PWEASE NU HUWT MAWTTHWACKEEEEEEE!”
Another strick on your left hip.
“Pwease huuhuu! Wiww be good fwu- THWACK THWACK AAAAAAACK!”
She lifted your tail and gave you two whacks right across your poopy place.
“BUUHUUHUUUUU poopy pwace hab wowstest owies! Poopie pwace am foh poopies! Not owies! Pwease nu moh nice wady huuhuu!”
The nice lady collapses the sorry stick and puts it back in her pocket.
“That’s what you get if you break the rules. Now I was easy on you this time but next time I’ll use a more painful sorry stick. You’re not doing yourself any favors here Marty. They all like pickle. Unlike you.”
You sob to yourself. You can feel your anus throb in pain from the whacks.
“Now I’m taking you back out there. Don’t do that again.”
She starts to pick you up.
“Can fwuffy hab binky? Huuhuu! Binky fwen hewp fwuffy feew bettah.”
She groans.
“Ugh fine but if you lose it in the pen don’t expect me to find it.”
She gives you back your binky friend. You immediately start sucking. You wish the hurties would go away.
She takes you back and sits you back out in the adult pen. Pickle and the Nummies are gone. Looks like they aren’t bringing you sketti. You’re hungry. You missed your chance for Nummies. Even if just kibble Nummies. None of the other stallions will even come up to you. The blue one that attacked you looks at you and blows a raspberry every now and then. You just lay there and suck on your binky friend.
“Dummeh bad fwuffy nu desewb sucky toysie!”
You feel binky be ripped out of your mouth. You look up and in front of you stands a big white earthy stallion. He was probably a toughie before ending up at the shelter.
“BINKEY FWEN! NEE BINKY FWEN!”
You say trying to take it back.
“Nu cawe! Ou make bad poopies in fwuffy pin. Poopies nu smeww pwetty on fwoow! Ou nu desewb binky.”
You try to jab him with your horn but realize too late that it’s half gone and not sharp anymore.
“Dummeh twy gib cwoud huwties? Dummeh get huwties!”
Cloud smacks you in your smeww pwace with his hoofsies knocking you back.
“WOWSTEST HUWTIES! Huuhuuhuu! Smeww pwace! Smeww pwace hab booboo juice!”
Cloud walks off. You lay there holding your nose. Finally it stops bleeding. You look and see cloud playing with the other stallions while sucking on your binky friend. Your last connection to your old life. Gone to dumb fluffy that doesn’t deserve it. You here a voice.
“Fwuffy hab saddies?”
You look around and don’t see anything.
“Up hewe!”
You look up. You see the top half of a fluffy head peering over the wall at you.
“Sniffle nyu fwen?”
You ask.
“Stawwite be fwen! Who am ou?”
You stand up.
“Am sniffle Mawty. Why ou behind waww?”
She laughs.
“Dey keep mawe an stawion sepawate hewe! Dey nu wan us habin Speciaw Huggies.”
You look at what you now know to be a mare. You get a strange feeling in your no nos.
“Stawwite wan be mawtys Speciaw fwen?”
You ask.
“Siwwy fwuffy. Stawwite nu can be Speciaw fwen. Nu can hab Speciaw Huggies. Can be nowmaw fwen instead!”
You have a friend again. Even though you can’t play with her it’s nice to talk to another fluffy. Days come and days go. You spend time talking to star light. Imagining how nice it would be to be able to run and play together. It’s been 10 bright times. A lot of the stallions that were in the pin that day were gone. You can feel your pretty horn slowly growing back. The new stallions have started to let you back in the fluff pile at darkie time. You’ve tried dancing to attract a new mommy and daddy but apparently it’s only cute when babbehs dance.
“Oh look Jeremy! This one has a little binky in his mouth. Isn’t he adorable? Let’s take him!”
Two hoomans say picking up cloud. That was your binky. That could have been your mommy and daddy. You run up to the side of the pin.
“NU! NU TAKE DUMMEH CWOUD! DAT MAWTY BINKY FWEN! MAAAAWTYS BINKY FWEEEEEN!”
Nice lady comes over again.
“One more outburst and you get the sorry stick.”
You quiet down and walk back to the wall hoping for starlight to be there. The couple walks out with cloud. Before they walk out the door cloud takes your binky out of his mouth and smirks at you before putting it back in. You miss binky fwen.
“Dat was ouw binky fwen? Why cwoud take?”
Starlight asks.
“Cwoud biggest meanie. He take because Mawty accidentwy make bad poopies. It nu mawties fauwt. Wan sketti.”
You sulk.
“Stawwite wan sketti tu. Stawwite wub sketti. Owd mummah gib sketties.”
You look at the wall hoping she was beside you on the other side.
“Ou hab owd mummah?”
She giggles.
“Teehee. Yep. Buh stawwite wun away cuz mummah nu wet hab babbehs.”
“Dat why Mawty haf cum back to shewtew. Wan Enfies. Wan babbehs. Buh dummeh Daddeh say NU! Den he being Mawty back ta meanie shewtew. Mawty hate Daddeh.”
You continue talking with star light until darkie time. You’ve learned to eat the kibble they give you. You don’t even look at pickle as he brings it in. Don’t want the new stallions to treat you like the old ones did.
Five more bright times pass. You’re the last stallion from the old batch in the shelter. You finally aren’t treated like a poopy babbeh anymore.
The bell from the door rings. You and all the other Fluffies scurry up to the front of the pin competing for the attention of a possible new mommy or daddy. You recognize these two as the ones who adopted cloud. You shrink down. You want nothing to do with them.
“Yes we’re looking to adopt a mare. We have a stallion that we adopted from here and we think he needs a special friend.”
Nice lady leads them to the mare pin.
“Oh look at how cute this one is Jeremy!”
They pick up a yellow pegasus mare.
“Ou Gon be stawwites nyu mummah?”
That’s… That’s your starlight. No. They can’t.
“That’s right little girl. You’re coming home with us. You’re gonna have a brand new special friend!”
“Gasp special fwen!?! Yay stawwite wan babbehs!”
They adopt her and leave. You hate cloud. He took your binky now he takes YOUR star light. The closest thing you’ve ever had to a special friend.
At that moment the Nummie bell jingles. Here comes pickle dragging in Nummies. It was his fault. ALL his fault. You feel something in your loins and you know what you have to do. You charge into pickle knocking him over.
“SCREEEE! NICE WADY HEWP PICKWE!”
You position yourself over him where he can’t move.
“DUMMEH PICKWE! OU MAKE CWOUD TAKE BINKY FWEN! AN OU MAKE NO FWUFFY WIKE SMAWTY! SMAWTY HATECHU! HATECHU!”
You scream.
“Huuhuu pwease nu huwt pickwe!”
“Dummeh cwoud take smawtys speciaw fwen! Pickwe be Speciaw fwen!”
You position yourself to ENF placing the tip of your no no stick on pickles poopy place.
“NU PWEASE! NU AM MAWE! NU AM MAWE!”
Right before you start your vile ENF you feel something hard hit your thinky pwace. As you hit the ground you see nice lady standing above you.
“Well someone lost ball privelages! And friend privelages! You’re going in solitary!”
She smacks you again and you black out. You come to in a small glass box. You look around and you realize this is the box pickle was in when you were a foal. Nice lady stands there.
“Welcome to the last chance box Marty. Hope you’re happy.”
“Wast chancey? Buh Mawty hab moa bwight times weft.”
She smiles.
“Yeah not anymore. Especially not after calling yourself smarty.”
She says marking out the fourteen days left and writing seven days left.
“Honestly I’ve done everything I can. I did feel a little sorry for you at first but after trying to rape pickle… Nah. Fuckin die shitrat. I hope I get to put you down. Oh and your balls are coming off tomorrow so enjoy them while you can fucker.”
She laughs and walks off. Why is everyone being such a meanie. No one wants you. NO ONE!
The door bell rings. You walk up to the glass.
“WOOK! MAWTY DANEH FWUFFY! PWEASE SAB FWUFFY! HUUHUU! Nu wan go fowevew sweepies! Pwease take Mawty!”
Suddenly you see him. It’s… it’s DADDY! You beat on the glass.
“DADDEH DADDEH! SAB MAWTY! SABE MAWTY! PWEASE TAKE MAWTY HOMESIES! MAWTY WEARN TA BE GUD!”
He completely ignores you and walks up to the counter
“Yes I’d like to adopt a fluffy.”
Nice lady smiles.
“Ok what are ya looking for Sir?”
She asks in an overly cheery tone. You continue to try and get daddeh’s attention to no avail.
“Honestly I’d prefer an older fluffy. One with a good attitude if possible. I just finished steam cleaning my old safe room. My last fluffy really did a number on the carpet. Couldn’t get him to use a litterbox.”
“I think I have the perfect one sir. Oh PICKLE!”
It hurt the nice lady (who’s real name is Sandra) to see pickle go. She’d gotten attached to the little guy ever since saving him from euthanasia. He was the best behaved fluffy she ever had in the shelter. Even took it like a champ and didn’t even cry when he thought he was about to be euthanized. Sandra decided to make him the shop mascot. Let him bring the food and toys to the adult fluffies and watch over the foals while you were on break. If Sandra hadn’t of had two large dobermans she would have straight adopted him. But it wasn’t meant to be. Pickle loved working at the shelter but she knew he’d be much happier with a real home. What better home than the one of the horrible little fluffy she’d been having problems with since he arrived.
Despite her treatment of Marty she loved Fluffies. She genuinely wanted to try and rehabilitate Marty when he first arrived but after catching him attempting to rape her little pickle she knew he was irredeemable.
At first she was just going to move his time to be euthanized closer but with Marty’s old owner walking in she had better ideas. She knew that unlike Marty pickle would appreciate every luxury that Marty’s old owner would give him. She had herself a little plan.
“This is pickle. He has the the best temperament I’ve ever seen. He’s gentle enough I let him watch over the foals.”
Pickle looks at her strangely.
“Nice wady? Who dis? Am he wookin foh fwuffies? Pickwe know da pewfect babbeh foa mistah!”
Pickle says excitedly.
Marty’s old owner laughs.
“Well he’s certainly happy. Is he litterbox trained?”
Pickle looks at him.
“Pickwe awways make gud poopies in wittahbocks mistah! Pickwe nu make bad poopies!”
Sandra laughs.
“Well you heard him. He’s had all his shots too. Plus a bath this morning.”
“Pickwe nu wike wawah buh baffies make fwuffy smeww suuuu pwetty!”
Pickle says.
Marty’s old dad looks hesitant for a minute.
“Pickle answer me a very important question. Do you wanna come home with me?”
Pickle looks at the man.
“Buh… Pickwe homesies am shewtew. Watch babbehs an gib wub an Nummies.”
Sandra pets his head.
“I appreciate that pickle, but I can do that. You on the other hand deserve a good home. Do you want this man to be your new daddy?”
“N…nyu Daddeh? Weawy?”
Pickle says. Marty watches in horror from his box. He beats his hoofs against the glass.
“NU! NU TAKE POOPIE PICKWE! TAKE MAWTY! MAAAAAWTYYYYYY!”
He continues to yell.
“I’ll take him. I’ve got all kinds of fun stuff little guy. I’ve got a safe room and toys. Not to mention your own TV.”
Pickles eyes grow wide.
“Pickwe get own safe woom an toysies? Pickwe wub nyu Daddeh!”
“NU BUUUHUUHUU! DAT MAWTY SAFE WOOM AN MAWTIES TEEBEE! AM MAWTYS TOYSIES! DUMMEH! DUMMEEEEEEEEEEH!”
Marty’s old Daddeh fills out the paperwork and picks up pickle. Sandra chimes in.
“Oh yeah and we have a special going on today. Make a $10 donation and we’ll throw in a free litter and Enfie pal. I never neutered pickle so he’ll love it.”
Something about her tone gives you a weird feeling in your tummy.
“Well how can I refuse that offer? Besides it might keep him from yelling about wanting a mate.”
Pickle coos in his arms.
“Great. I’ll need your phone number. I’ll call you when it’s ready. It can take up to a week.”
She puts the paperwork in her desk drawer.
“Pickwe nu bewieve he hab nyu Daddeh. Wub nyu Daddeh! Pickwe hab biggest heawt Happies.”
He says snuggling in his arms.
“Huuhuuhuuhuu! Mawty hate pickwe! OU HEEW MAWTY! MAWTY HATECHU! HATECHU!”
Pickle looks back at Marty and blows a raspberry like Marty did all those months ago to him, and they leave the shop.
Marty lay there defeated. As Daddeh leaves nice lady pulls out her phone.
“Hey Bruno. This is Sandy. Yep that’s right. I’ve got another one. Both. I need him to be both a litter and an Enfie pal. Alright. I’ll be here. See you tomorrow.”
She hangs up. She looks at you and gives a sinister grin that you’ve only ever seen in movies. It’s too bad Fluffies are so stupid otherwise you’d shit your enclosure in fear putting two and two together.
The next bright time came. Marty waited eagerly for his brekkiefast bowl of kibble to be brought to him in his enclosure. But it never came. He saw nice lady take the others their Nummies and never brought him a bowl. He tapped on the glass to get her attention. She walked up.
“Nice wady? Whew mawties Nummies?”
She laughs.
“Sorry buddy. No eating before surgery.”
Marty tilted his head.
“S…suwgewy? Wah dat?”
The door bell jingled. Someone came in.
“Oh you’ll find out. How ya doing Bruno? Your subject is right here. Careful he’s a real nasty one. Baaaaaaad smarty syndrome. Tried to rape a shelter fluffy.”
A tall bearded man walks over to you.
“Oh he did aye? Ya know ya little shitrat Sandy here never calls me. Tells me what I do is unethical. You must have reeeaaally pissed her off huh? Well no matter.”
He opens your enclosure and reaches for you. You bit his hand but he laughs.
“Little bugger thinks his teeth are sharp. How cute.”
He grabs your leggy hard and pulla you out placing you into a box.
“SCREEEE WEGGIE! WHY HUWT WEGGIE! NEE WEGGIE FOH WUN PWAY AN HUG!”
He laughs again.
“Oh gremlin. Where you’re going there won’t be any running, playing, or… Well maybe Hugging but not the kind you’re talking about. I’ll call ya when I’m finished sandy. Say hi to your mom for me.”
He grabs your neck holding you still. He shoves your face down into the bottom of the box. You feel a sharp prick in your back leggie before suddenly getting sleepy. Everything goes black.
You wake up. You’re not in the sorry box. You’re strapped down to a big metal table. It’s dark. You try to move your leggies but they seem to be stuck too.
“He… HEWWOOOOO! HEWWOOOOOOOOOOO! FWUFFY NEE HEWP! PWEASE HEWP MAWTY!”
The lights come on. The bearded man is standing in the doorway wearing gloves and holding a bag.
“No one can hear ya shitrat. It’s just me and you. And we’re gonna play a little game called. Where’d my legs and dick go?”
He walks over to a radio and turns it on.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaveeeee mariiiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaa. Verrgin del cieeeeeel!”
Under normal circumstances you’d think the music was pwetty. You look around. It looks like you’re in a basement. The walls are gray and made out of the big grey blockies Daddeh had outside.
“Whewe am Mawty? Mawty scawed!”
You try to make scaredy poopies but something’s wrong. The more you squeeze the more it hurts.
“Poopie pwace owies! Why poopy pwace nu wowk?”
“Gotta say. Never had anyone ask me to convert a pink fluffy. But I hear brown ones fetch a pretty penny nowadays so people decided they like them again. Personally I think you’re all worthless.”
He walks over to the table and sits the bag down. He opens it and starts sitting out tools.
A surgical saw, a power drill, scissors, a sewing kit, a blowtorch, scalpels, and a large bottle of rubbing alcohol.
He picks up the scissors.
“Now step one. Clear the area of obstructions.”
He starts snipping off large tuffs of fluffy from around your arms.
“NU! Pwease nu take pwetty fwuff! Fwuffy nee fwuff to be wawm! An be pwetty!”
“Trust me in a few minutes being pretty will be the least of your worries.”
He continues to cut off your pretty fluff despite your protests.
“Huuhuu nee pwetty fwuff. Wub pwetty fwuff!”
Soon all the fluff around your shoulders and hips were gone. The man soaks a rag with the rubbing alcohol and begins rubbing the area where the fluffy is gone.
“Sniffle nice mistah gib mawty Huggies?”
He laughs again. His breath that doesn’t smell pretty wafts in your face.
“If that’s what you think this is sure. Next step is the tourniquets.”
He pulls red bands out of his bag and wraps it around one of your leggies.
“Wha dis? Pwetty weggie cowwahs?”
He tightens it.
“SCREE! Bad Huggies! Gib weggie huwties! Pwease take offsies!”
He puts one around each of your legs.
“No can do shit rat. Gotta keep these on to cut off blood flow to your legs.”
Blood? Isn’t that what humans call boo boo juice?
“W…why nee stop boo boo juice?”
You ask.
“To keep ya alive while I cut them off ya retard.”
“Wha?.. Nu… NU! NU TAKE WEGGIES! PWEASE! WEGGIES ONWY TING FWUFFY HAB! NEE WEGGIES FOH WUN PWAY AN HUG! HUUHUUHUUU! PWEASE NU TAKE WEGGIES! FWUFFY DO ANYTING!”
He wipes his surgical saw with the alcohol.
“Sorry bud. Should have been a good fluffy.”
He places the saw on your front right leggie.
“Buh Mawty am gud fwufEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
Before Marty could finish Bruno started sawing. The pain was immeasurable. The saw made a horrible wet sloshing noise as it went back and forth through your flesh. Separating tendons and cartilage. He hit the bone. The saw was sharp enough he didn’t need to stop. He just kept going. The smell of the friction of metal cutting bone was sickening. Finally you don’t feel anything anymore. You open your eyes and it’s gone. The man had set the leggie in a bin with a biohazard symbol on it.
“Pwease… Nu moa… Put weggie back.”
He turns up the music and starts sawing another leggie. The pain is bad enough you recede into your own mind. Suddenly there you are. Running around playing with your bwuddas an sissies. Mummah is there singing the mummah song.
“Babbehs! Miwkies is weady!”
She yells. You all run towards her with empty tummies and milkies on your minds. You go to suck and suddenly you’re slapped away.
"NU Poopy babbeh! Miwkies Onwy foh gud babbehs! "
“Buh mummah. Babbeh am bestest babbeh!”
She gets mad
“Bestest babbeh would nebah ebah be bad fwuffy an get sent back ta shewtew. Bestest babbeh would hab wawm housie an toysies. Bestest teebee an safewoom an wub. Ou am BAD babbeh! mummah HATECHU! Ou nu eben hab weggies!”
You come to and realize mummah was right. You don’t have leggies. Where your pretty pink leggies once were are now sewed up stumps.
“Huuhuuhuu ou stow my weggies. Buuhuuhuu nee weggies foh wun an pway.”
Bruno stands there reading a book.
“Huh… So that’s how that works. Gotta say little guy this gender change surgery is brutal. Made my dick hurt just making sure I understood how to do it. Never performed anything like this but hey I was an accredited surgeon before the damn lawyers got me for malpractice. I should be able to get this.”
He sterilizes his scalpels and scissors and starts to walk behind you.
“Gotta get your balls off first though. That’s easy.”
You feel him grab your special lumps.
“NUU! NUU! NU TOUCH WUMPS! WUB WUMPS! MAWTY NEE WUMPS! NEE WUUUUUUMPS!”
Oh why did your poopy place hurt so bad? You needed sorry poopies right now. Suddenly you hear a loud snip.
“SCREEEEEEE!”
It hurts worse than even losing your leggies. A shock of pain clean through your entire body.
“Now to get these out of the way.”
Bruno throws your lumps which land in front of you with a wet slap.
There in front of your face were your precious special lumps. Your hope for the love of a special friend and babbehs lay dead before your eyes.
“Huuhuuhuu. Goodbye wumps. Mawty wub ou. Huuhuuhuu. Why poopy pwace nu wowk?”
Bruno chimes in.
“Because I put a cork in it moron. Didn’t want you shitting on me during the process. Might as well forget about your poopy place because I’m taking that away too. You’re having a colostomy. Easier for the buyer to change a bag rather then giving you a damn litterbox.”
“Mistah. Ou take way weggies, take way wumps. Why nee take way poopy pwace? Why mean ta fwuffy?”
Bruno wipes the blood of his scissors.
“I’m not mean. Honestly I could care less. I just do what people pay me to do. Honestly I’ll get a good bit out of your legs. Some whackjob out in texas actually discovered how to reattach fluffy legs. So another fluffy will get your legs. They definitely deserve them more.”
Bruno says.
“Buh dey Mawty wegs! Buhuuhuu!”
“Alright gonna have to knock ya out for these ones. Can’t have ya moving. When I’m done you’re gonna be the prettiest mare in town.”
Bruno sticks a mask over your face and you pass out.
You wake up not on the table but on a soft bed.
You hurt EVERYWHERE! Even your talky place hurts. You realize your teeth are gone. Finally someone walks in the room. To your horror it’s Bruno.
“Well look who’s up? Nice to know the surgery didn’t kill ya.”
“Nu! Stay away fwom fwuffy! Ou steaw fwuffies weggies an teefies!”
Bruno laughs.
“Are ya hungry? How about some Nummies?”
Even in pain you’re starving.
“Pwease mistah. Nee Nummies. Fank ou!”
Bruno brings in a plate sitting it in front of you. On the plate is a giant pile of shit.
“Dis nu Nummies! Dis poopies!”
“Yep and that’s all you’re getting. Get used to it fucker. You’re now a grade A litter and Enfie pal!”
He says with a sinister smirk.
“Buh… Nu wan num poopies huuhuuhuu. Nu am foh Enfies! Am nu mawe!”
Bruno grabs a mirror and walks to you.
“Ya sure?”
He lifts you up in front of the mirror showing that where your special lumps and no no stick used to be is now a mares special place. Your tail was also gone.
“Buh… buh… How? Am stawion.”
“Not anymore. Now eat your shit. Once your stomach is accustomed to it we’ll start your Enfie training.”
He leaves.
He wasn’t kidding he never brought real Nummies. Eventually hunger won. You started numming the now dried shit.
“Huuhuu nu taste pwetty. Miss teefies.”
This cycle repeats for 3 days.
“Hey shit eater. I brought you a friend!”
Despite everything your ears perk up.
“Nyu fwen foh Mawty? Buh… Huuhuu Mawty nu can pway wif nu weggies.”
Bruno walks over to you and sprays you with pretty smelling wawah.
“Oooh smews wike mummah!”
“Mare breeding hormone. You’re gonna have all kinds of fun.”
He picks you up and brings you to a room. Another big fluffy sits in the room.
“Marty. Meet Meat. The only fluffy I let stay here. Meat. You know what to do.”
He walks out.
You stare at meat.
“Nyu fwen? Wan pway!?”
“Nu! Nu pway wif dummeh mawe! Ou hewe ta gib meat Speciaw Huggies!”
He walks behind you and mounts you.
“Buh mawty nu am mawe?”
He rubs himself against your new special place.
“Ugh. Why dummeh mawes awways say dat. Ou have mawe Speciaw pwace. Ou smeww wike mawe. Ou am mawe!”
He shoves his no no stick inside of your new special place. It burns like wowstest burny hurties.
“SCREEEEE! NU WAN NU WAN! MUNSTAH FWUFFY! HEWP!”
This torture went on for the next four days. Constantly getting raped by meat in both of your holes.
“NUUU! MAH POOPY PWACE! IT AM BEIN WUINED!”
Finally Bruno walks back in and pulls meat off of you.
“Dummeh Daddeh put meat downsies! Nee gib bestest Enfies foh good feews!”
Bruno slaps meat and throws him.
“You’re getting to comfortable here. You’re next to be sold bud. Anyways I think our little friend here is ready for his new home.”
You’re so tired and in pain.
“Nyu… Nyu homesies foh Mawty?”
Bruno laughs.
"Yep. I’m delivering you myself. He says. He picks you up and puts you in a cardboard box just big enough to let your head and rear end to stick out. Then puts you in a bigger darkie boxie.
You know you’re in a metah munstah. It seems you are stuck here for many forevers. Finally you stop. You’re carried into somewhere and sat down. Finally the top comes off and you’re picked up and sat back down. You realize that. You’re in your old safe room.
“Fwu…fwuffy am homesies? Huuhuuhuu FWUFFY AM HOMESIES!”
You see your Daddeh talking with meanie Bruno before Bruno leaves. You look around your safe room. It’s even better than you’d left it. Then you see pickle. He’s playing with your toysies. Giving Huggies to one of your old stuffy friends.
“Nuu. Pickwe nu touch stuffy fwen!”
Your Daddeh walks over to you.
“That’s his stuffy friend not yours.”
“Daddeh! Hewp Mawty! Meanie man take weggies an Speciaw pwace!”
Your Daddeh looks at you indifferently.
“Huh. Of course. Should have known after I saw you in the last chance box you’d be the one they’d send. Well. Welcome home Marty.”
Despite all the pain you’re so happy.
“Daddeh be Daddeh again?”
You ask.
“Nope. You’re now living here as a servant. Not a guest or a resident. You’re a litter and Enfie pal. You’ll spend your whole life cleaning up pickles shit and letting him relieve his frustrations on your backside.”
“Buh… Fwuffy can nu wiv on poopies. Nee Nummies.”
He pulls out a pamphlet titled (you’re litter pal and you.)
“Actually it says litter pals can live up to four years. Shit isn’t even what kills them. It’s health problems caused by obesity. Who knew fluffy shit was so nutritious? Only thing I gotta do is give you a special anti parasite medicine once a month and you’re good to go.”
Before you say anything pickle trots over.
“Bestest Daddeh! Can pickwe watchie da teebee?”
He asks.
“Did you eat all your kibble?”
Daddeh asks.
“Yis! Pickwe num aww kibbwe. Fank ou foh Nummies!Wub bestest Daddeh!”
He turns on what used to be your TV
“Wewcom fiwwies an cowts to. DA WEGGIE SHOW!!
Fwuffies nee weggies to wun pway an hug!”
Pickle gets excited.
“YAY! Pickwe fabowite show!”
Pickle dances around with the mare on TV. The same Mare that made your special stick feel weird all those bright times ago. The same Mare that got you into this mess. Now she mocks you. Dancing and shaking her leggies.
“Huuhuuhuu wan wun an pway!”
You cry. Suddenly pickle runs behind you and mounts you. Enfing away at your new special place.
“Pickwe wub nyu wittah an Enfie fwen!”
You cry as you know you’re entire life will consist of being filled with shit and semen.
Daddeh smirks as he leaves the room.
“Welcome home Marty.”
He shuts the door.
