Rick & Daisy [by SilverOwl]
The sound of a fluffy repeating “wan die wan die wan die” could be heard from the backyard of a small suburb. In the backyard under a large oak tree, a green and blue fluffy colt with no legs, or eyes muttered, “wan die wan die wan die”. The fluffy’s rant was interupted with some “wawa” that tasted really bad. The fluffy’s wounds stung from the liquid, as an old man standing a few feet away, lit a match, and tossed it on the fluffy. Instantly it bursts into flames, as the fluffy shuffled back and forth burning. After a few minutes smoke poured out of its eye sockets and mouth as the old man begins to spray the smoldering corpse down with the hose. He chuckles as a piece of charred fluffy falls off of the body, as he sprays it.
Rick was an elderly man in his early seventies. His wife left him decades ago, he never remarried, he just lived the same monotonous life everyday. Everyday, until fluffies came on the market, and have since become an invasive species, and ecological menace. The anger from the pains and failures in his mediocre life were soothed through tormenting these ridiculous creatures. Maybe he felt like he was doing a public service by killing these abominations, or maybe he was just venting years of anger. Whatever the reason, he had a lot of fun with it, and killed a lot of fluffies.
At first Rick was rather impatient, and would capture a half dozen fluffies, and kill them all within minutes, in the most brutal ways possible. These quick unsatisfying kills left him wanting, and hungry for more. The shock value of exploding a fluffy, or catching one on fire was fun for all of 10 seconds. He slowly learned to torture over kill, and was able to keep his fluffy victims alive longer, and derive more satisfaction. Even then, the fun lasted two or three days tops, before the fluffy entered into the “wan die” loop and nothing more could be done.
Rick was a big contributor for a number of fluffy gore sites, and the general abuser forums of 4chan and Reddit. Rick read what others had done with fluffies, tried to find ways to improve on the methods, and contributed to the fluffy-abuser community. The more he read on the subject, the more he realized that psychological abuse was really the key to torturing fluffies, not so much physical abuse. He began to understand the nature of the fluffy, and what they wanted, and feared most. He reasoned that the fluffy only wants lower levels of Maslov’s needs with air, water, food, shelter, sleep, and reproduction. That seemed to be all these creatures were capable of understanding. They understood that if they didn’t do as humans wanted, and make ‘gud poopies’, then they would be out on the street starving. He decided that he would play on that fear most.
Rick gets into his car and heads to the local fluffy shelter. He’s learned that when a fluffy is abused, they appreciate a hug-boxer much more than a fluffy that has never known abuse. This makes it all the more satisfying to betray that trust once the fluffy has gotten over its fear of you, to love you.
Arriving at the shelter he makes some small talk with the front desk girl, and heads back to the kennels. Looking into the cages he sees a lot of overly happy looking runaways, which don’t realize they ran away from a comfortable home to have “babbehs”, only to wind up here where they had 7 days to be adopted or put to sleep. Most of the fluffies stood on two legs, and banged on the front of the kennel door with various demands.
Gib fwuffy sketties noa!
Be new daddeh? Gib housies?
Wan new daddeh, fwuffy gib huggies
Wook am dancie fwuffy fo ou! Wuv ou!
None of these would do, they were too concerned with immediate comforts to know abuse. Then he saw the one that would satisfy his wants, a bright yellow mare with her head down, not trying to get any attention. Above the door read “Daisy” and below it a magnet that said “1 Day left”. This was perfect, she was so beaten down, she doesn’t care to be adopted.
Rick talks with the front desk girl who has him fill out some paper-work, and then walks towards Daisy’s kennel. Opening the door, Daisy makes no attempts to get attention or be adopted. She probably thinks this is her execution, and isn’t bothered by it. Rick smiles big for her and says, “Hi Daisy! I am going to be your new daddy! I am going to get you a big bowl of sketties when we get home.” Daisy looks up confused, but manages a faint smile, “Welley Daisey gets sketties?”, Rick nods and smiles.
Rick and Daisy head home, as Daisy looks out the window at the pretty trees and sky, hopeful for the future. Rick drove quietly with a smirk on his face, wondering how long he can maintain and hold up his hug-box mask.
Getting out of the car, Rick and Daisy tour the house together. It is a modest middle class home, in need of repairs, with modest furniture. His home is barely kept tidy, and it is obvious that he is a bachelor with no feminine touches to the home.
He shows Daisy to the guest bedroom converted into a safe-room. The room looks like something a creepy clown decorated with antiquated children’s decorations. Most human children would probably recognize that this room was creepy and unsettling, but with the IQ 25 fluffy, this was paradise. Daisy ran over to the dingy looking teddy bear on the odd looking Eastern European almost Soviet children’s decorations of circus animals, and unsettling clowns. Daisy ran around the small room and was excited to see her own litter-box, and bed. She danced around thanking daddy.
Fank ou daddeh dis am bestest safe rwoom eba! Daisey wuv all the stuffies an bed an witta-bawk!
Daisy began dancing for the old man who chuckled and clapped. As he smiled and showed his yellowed teeth some with gold crowns, he chuckled in a creepy way, clapping his hands every few seconds, “Wonderful! ha ha you dance so well. What nice leggies you have. My my.” After a few moments he excused himself to prepare her dinner. Daisy happily danced thinking about “skettie time” and began to sing as she danced, alone in the ill-lit room.
Fwuffy wuv sketties
Fwuffy gonna eat sketties
Skeeties am fo gud fwuffies
Daisy am gud fwuffy
Just then her stomach gurgles and she quickly makes it over to the litter-box. Squatting down, she sighs, “gud poopies!!!” with relief as she pushes. A few long fluffy logs lay in her litter-box as she shovels litter on top to cover it up. After another half hour, Rick returns to the room to announce “Sketties time!” with a creepy old laugh he sets the plate down and gives Daisy a loving scratch behind her ears. Daisy looks up at him, “Daddeh I make a gud poopies fo ou”. Without breaking character, Rick smiles, “Well good!!!” As he laughs and scatches her head playfully.
After dinner, the two of them spent an hour watching fluffies dance around on screen like they were having seizures. The entire channel was devoted to fluffies dancing. Rick noticed that fluffies with legs loved the channel and it was a reward or treat. Fluffies without legs; however, viewed this as torture and would even enter them into the “wan die” phase if exposed enough.
Daisy went to sleep that night on a feather pillow bed, in a warm safe-room, with a belly full of spaghetti. She was surrounded by plushes, with a night-light illuminating the path to the clean litter-box. She was a lucky fluffy, with a daddy that loved her very much.
Rick went to sleep that night with no real plan. He would play this one by ear and either love Daisy or set her ablaze. Could he try to treat Daisy as a companion? This fluffy was an abused fluffy and understood pain. Could he even help himself not abusing Daisy? Either seemed probable in his mind as he drifted off to sleep, without too many concerns.