Rick & Daisy: Part 2 [by SilverOwl]
Rick spent five long months being as hug-boxer as he could for Daisy. Anyone watching them would assume that Rick absolutely adored Daisy. She got special treats everyday from cupcakes to balloons. She got to watch wonderful fluffy shows on a big-screen every night. The fluffy dancing channel was her favorite. To any human, it was retardation incarnate. A bunch of mindless fluffies flailing around like imbeciles.
She spent a few hours everyday watching the fluffies and sometimes babies dance. She had sketties three times a week, and more toys than she could play with, she was a lucky fluffy. She always made âgud poopiesâ in the âwitta bawksâ, and made a point to tell Rick, every fucking time. She went to sleep each night grateful for such a wonderful daddy.
Daddy meanwhile smiled with clenched sharp teeth. Beyond the sinister toothy smile were two dead dark eyes. The right eye starts to twitch, as the smile got bigger, and his teeth clenched tighter, while watching the fluffy dance channel with Daisy. Petting Daisy and trying to relax, âOUCHIE DADDEH OU PETTED TOO HARD!â Without realizing it, he had started to pet her fluff with aggitation and began to pull on her fluff in a quick outburst of rage. After the outburst, he tried to play it off for Daisy, âSorry sweetie daddy pets too hard sometimes because he loves you so much!â Daisy giggles, âswiwwy daddeh.â
The next morning when Rick was serving Daisy a stack of pancakes with blueberry syrup his eye started to twitch. This lifestyle was more sickeningly sweet than the syrup. This charade had lasted long enough. It was time for reality, and this wasnât it. Reality is harsh and cold, but what he had in mind was colder. Rick decided to start slow with the abuse, and let it build to a glorious crescendo.
later in the day
Daisy is outside playing, and chasing butterflies. Rick sits in his upstairs office room, and watches Daisy with a pair of binoculars from the dark room. Heâs satisfied that she is about as happy and content as a fluffy can be. Its time to bring her down from that high from the happiness life has brought her. He sits and watches her play outside for over two and a half hours. He calls her in and prepares her usual Spaghetti-Os, but sprinkles some powder on top, before giving it to her. He sits with her for about 15 minutes watching the ridiculous fluffy dancing channel, before tucking her in goodnight.
12:17am
Daisyâs stomach gurgles and rumbles, as she winces in her sleep
03:57am
foul smelling fluffy shit spurts out of Daisy, staining her bedding
Daisy sleeps through the ordeal, having a dream about being in a big litter-box
8:34am
Rick opens the safe-room door and pretends to be surprised to find Daisyâs accident, âDAISY!!! HOW COULD YOU?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE A GOOD FLUFFY!â Daisy begins to cry, and Rick also pretends to crying. Daisy profusely apologizes, âDaysey su sowwy daddeh nu wan makie bad poopies bu poopie pwace nu wisten!â Rick pretends to look worried, and leans down and pets Daisy with affection. Rick leans down and whispers, âI just hope the monsters donât find out about these bad poopies.â
Daisy looks concerned, âmunstahs daddeh? Munstahs gib Daysey hurties?â Rick keeps a straight face, âThe monsters find bad fluffies that make bad poopies, and steal things from them.â Daisy looks even more horrified, âWha munstahs steewwl from Daisy?â Rick shakes his head in dispair, âanything, your leggies or see placesâŚanything. I just hope you arenât a bad fluffy again, or the monsters may find you.â Horrified with what she is hearing, she lets out a little spurt of âscardie poopiesâ, and immediately looks horrified, âSU SOWWY DADDEH FWUFFY WUZ SCUWED OF DA MUNSTAHS, NU WET MUNSTAH TAKE FWUFFY!! HUHUHUHUHU!!!â
Rick cleaned Daisyâs mess, as she sat in the corner most of the day looking deeply concerned. She doesnât have much of an appetite most of the day, and looks concerned more often than not. She goes to sleep that night without incident. Although she did not sleep well that night. Several more days followed without incident, but Rick could tell Daisy was marinating in fear.
Rick was prepared for the next stage in his plan. That night, a humbled and fearful Daisy slowly ate her ravioli canned pasta. Rick sat at the other side of the table from her, as she sat in her high-chair eating her ravioli. His eyes lit up with the candle light, as he watched her slowly eat. He tucked her in an hour later, as she lazily fell into bed already half asleep.
Rick had slipped a heavy sedative into her food that night. The drugs come in the âpillowing with no trauma hug-box kitâ which allows you to sedate your fluffy, and amputate parts of it painlessly. Also with the fur matching scar cover-up kit, the ugly nub is covered in fluff.
Rick flops Daisy up on the kitchen table, and takes out the kit he ordered online. Rick sprays her right front leg with an aerosol from the kit. Fumbling with the kit he takes out a very sharp scalpel and slices below the shoulder, as the instructions indicate. He gently and carefully removes the leg, and slathers the wound with instant-heal gel. The wound stops bleeding, and new skin begins to generate over the nub. He rubs a fluff regrow gel over the nub, and within hours small stubble can be seen. He places her back in her bed, and tip-toes away. Shaking his head, he had almost forgotten the âbad poopiesâ which would justify this, and goes back. With his index finger he jabs Daisy in the side causing a small squirt of âbad poopiesâ. He jabs her a few more times for good measure, before sneaking away again.
Rick wakes up to Daisy wailing about âbad poopiesâ and âmunstahsâ. Rick quickly walking into the safe-room pretending to be concerned, âWhatâs wrong Daisy!?â Daisy looks up at him with eyes full of tears, âMunstah took muh weggie daddeh!!!â Rick almost burst out laughing, âoh no! âŚhmm Umm What did the monster look like?!â Daisy just started crying, âIs cuz fwuffy am bad fwuffy made more bad poopies. Poopie pwace nu wisten an munstah take weggie!!â Rick calmed her down over breakfast, soothing and petting her.
Daisy spends the next few days moping about her lost âweggieâ but can be cheered up with âskettiesâ and the âteebeeâ with the dancing fluffies. Rick continued to care for Daisy for weeks without incident. He didnât want these âmunstahâ attacks to occur at a predictable rate, each time he struck, Daisy would need to be unsuspecting. She had adjusted to hobbling around on three âweggiesâ and had actually gotten quiet good at maneuvering. She still played outside and chased butterflies, but a little more cautious than before, as there were âmunstahsâ around.
One night, a couple months after the first âmunstahâ attack, Rick prepared Daisyâs pasta for dinner. Before sprinkling cheese powder on top, he sprinkled the same sedative he used before, that knocked her out for a few hours in a dreamless, painless sleep.
That night, Daisy fell asleep soundly, on Rickâs lap watching fluffy-TV. Rick placed her in the kitchen sink, and got his kits out. Daisy is sound asleep, snoring, as Rick begins to spray her down her fluff with water from the flexible faucet head. Saturating her fluff, he then begins to massage in this puke brown-green âpoopie-fluffyâ hair-dye. Her bright yellow fluff is instantly changed to the color of baby vomit. Wanting to have the full effect, regardless of mess, Rick gets an enema kit out. He looks at the back of the instructions, and then scoffs, âWarm water? They must mean warm baby oil.â Rick fills the enema bag with a bottle of baby oil he warms up in the microwave. He pushes the nozzle into Daisyâs âpoopie pwaceâ, and lets the bag begin to empty in her. Rick takes note that the nozzle, buttplug was in place not letting any contents spill out yet. The initially very full bag of warm baby-oil, was now a thin bag. Daisyâs sides notably bulged as she winced in her sleep probably feeling uncomfortably full. Rick carefully disconnected the insert, while keeping the plug in place. He gently carried her into the safe-room, and placed her in bed.
He went to pull the plug and hesitated. He felt like he was about to pull the pin on a grenade or some kind of fluffy-shit bomb. This was going to be so bad, but the result will be legendary he thought. Wincing a little, he securely gripped the plug, positioned himself to get ready to walk away quickly, and pulled it. By the time he got to the door-way he could smell rancid fluffy shit with baby-oil. The wall, carpet, and bed were sprayed in a storm of fluffy shit, liquid, and solid. Daisy was still asleep, but she would be awake in a few hours, once her safe-room reeked of stale fluffy shit.
In the morning, Rick was awoken by Daisyâs screams. He entered her safe-room to be punched in the face by the rancid smell. Maybe he went overboard with the warm oil enema, he thought. Daisy was frantically crying seeing the huge shit mess she had exploded all over a 3 foot semi-circle on one side of her bed. Rick pretended to be shocked, âDaisy!! What happened?! Why are there bad-poopies everywhere?!â Daisy is crying as Rick picks her up to the bathroom. Placing her in the sink to wash the shit out of her fluff, she looks up and into the mirror. At first it doesnât register that her fluff is this puke brown-green. Then the realization sets in and she screams, and wails. She begins to panic, âDaddeh where am pwetty fluff, am poopie fwuffy noa, nu wan be poopie fwuffy!â Rick tries to look serious, âThe monster turned you into a poopie fluffy for being so bad and making bad poopiesâ. Daisyâs face is one of pure horror. She had become a poopie-fluffy, for being bad. She cried and covered her eyes, insisting she was in a âbad sweepy time pictah.â
Rick put on the âPretty-Fluffyâ channel which only features bright colored fluffies dancing. She use to resemble the bright yellow one, which was of course her favorite. Now she was a poopie-fluffy and couldnât see herself in any of the âpwetty cowowsâ. She sat bitterly watching the brightly colored fluffies dance around with all four of their âweggiesâ as she sat with three and a stump.
Weeks past with Daisy becoming adjusted to being a three legged poopie-fluffy. She still enjoyed chasing her butterfly âfrensâ, and watching most FluffyTV shows. Of course she also enjoyed various pastas every night as well. She was still, by many fluffy standards, a lucky fluffy.
Stay tuned for part 3.