The first thing that Robbie noticed when he woke up was the rain. It was storming outside and there wasn’t any brightness coming through the window like usual. Yawning, stretching out, smacking his lips the fluffy would laze around his cozy little pillow bed until noticing a second thing. A tantalizing smell. The bestest of smells. That was skettis! He knew that. Sitting upright, the slightly chubby purple & orange stallion popped off of his bed and went stamping toward the door leading from his saferoom.
“Sketti day! Sketti day! Wobby WUB sketti day!” Zooming into the kitchen at breakneck speeds, he slid in front of his daddeh. His daddeh looked down to Robbie, dishing out a good amount of skettis onto a plate. That wasn’t Robbie’s usual dish but he wasn’t going to complain!
“Oh? You want skettis?” He asked the stallion, the fluffy nodding excitedly.
“Wobby wub sketti day ‘n wub daddeh! Dank yew! TEEHEE!” He spun around in a circle to illustrate how amped up he was. Daddeh walked to the trashcan, looked to his fluffy. Dumped the entire portion of perfectly good nummies straight into the stinky place.
“Buh…buh…!” Robbie’s eyes immediately sparkled with tears.
“If you wanted skettis, maybe you shouldn’t have shit on the floor. You disgusting fuck!” Daddeh yelled at him. The stallion shrunk back. He didn’t like it when this happened.
“Wobbie nu am poopies on da fwoor…” He tried to lie. Truth was, he had. He’d been playing with his ball too much and had pooped in the corner instead of waddling on over to the litterbox. His line of thinking at the time had been maybe his owner wouldn’t even see it.
“Oh? Now you’re lying? I’m taking away all your toys.” Daddeh got a garbage bag out from beneath the sink and stomped on over to his saferoom. Robbie followed behind closely, trying to beg.
“Nu daddeh! Dey am Wobby’s toysies! Nu!” He watched as his precious stuffy friends, balls, blocks, and puzzles were stuffed into the bag. His owner also unplugged the television so he wouldn’t be able to watch FluffTV.
“Pwease daddeh! Wobby sowwy! Nu! Nu nu nu!” Trying to get his daddeh to pay attention, all Robbie got was a kick to the side with the saferoom door closing shut with a slam. He was all alone in a room filled with nothing to do. There were no skettis. A few tears running down his cheeks, Robbie trotted over to his bed. This all had to be a bad dream! Maybe if he went back to sleep, he’d wake up and everything would be good again. Snuggling onto the cushions which were still warm from his body heat, he cried onto his pillows until it wore him out and sleep came.
Robbie woke up and the first thing he noticed was the rain. There was no brightness coming through the window. Stretching out his legs and giving a few smacks of his lips, the second thing he noticed was the smell of skettis coming from the kitchen. Just like in his dream. Yummy skettis! This time he would actually get to eat them. It would be perfect. A perfect day!
“Hewwo daddeh! Wub skettis ‘n wub yew!” Robbie announced happily as he watched daddeh dish out skettis onto a plate. Not his dish. Just like the dream. The fluffy gave a waggle of his tail.
“Oh? You want skettis?” His owner asked, and Robbie felt a small sense of dread creep in.
“Y-Yis. Wub skettis. Teehee!” Watching, it was just like the dream. Daddeh dumped the skettis right into the trash. All that noodly, saucy goodness was now next to poopies and other yucky stuff.
“If you wanted skettis, maybe you shouldn’t have shit on the floor. You disgusting fuck!” Daddeh yelled at him. It didn’t hurt any less hearing it a second time. Though this time around he wouldn’t try to make an excuse.
“W-Wobby sowwy, daddeh. Sowwy ‘fo bad poopies. Sowwy daddeh.” Tucking his head down shamefully, it seemed as if he would be off the hook. Losing skettis was one thing but he didn’t want what came next.
“I don’t believe you. I’m going to take away all toys.” Daddeh told him, getting a trash bag out from beneath the sink and going into his saferoom to remove all the toys. Once the saferoom door was kicked shut, all the fluffy could do was stand there in shocked silence. Another bad dream. It had to be. Robbie sank back onto his bed, looked out over the now mostly barren saferoom. He’d sleep again. There had to be a time where he woke up and it wasn’t a bad dream.
When Robbie woke up it was the same thing. A rain storm outside, the delicious smell of skettis. He was going to be smart though. If he didn’t ask for skettis, maybe none of this would happen! Instead of going out to the kitchen and begging for some all he did was sit on his bed. Now daddeh wouldn’t be mad. There would be no toys taken. He could eat kibble and have an otherwise good day of playing around and not being yelled at.
That didn’t happen though. His owner eventually came into the saferoom, standing at the door and crossing his arms.
“It’s skettis day and I’m out there slaving all morning over a hot pot of noodles and here you are, sitting there. What, you want me to serve you in bed? You ungrateful fuck.” Daddeh crossed over to a wall where a sorry-stick was hanging. Tearing up, Robbie shook his head.
“Wobby make bad poopies ‘n nu get skettis! Dat am wry! Pwease no huwties for Wobby, daddeh!” Though it was impossible to get through to his owner. No matter what he did, he was going to face a punishment. Robbie was grabbed up by his mane, dragged out from his bed. The sorry-stick went crashing down on his ass and back far harder than had ever been done before. Hard enough to tear strips of fur and small bits of flesh from the areas it impacted. The stallion screeched, made pained scaredy peepees on the floor. Looking at the liquid pooling down beneath his fluffy, the mean man grabbed the purple male up again and hauled him over to a small plastic bin.
“Spend some time in the sorry-box until you’ve learned your lesson you little piss-baby.” Robbie was shoved into the small box, the lid being snapped firmly in place. There was no room to wriggle around and struggle. All he could do was cry and cry, the wounds on his back half sore and bleeding. This was the worst. Why was this happening? Why wouldn’t it be a new bright times? What was he doing wrong? It was an impossibly difficult thing for a fluffy to consider. He wept and wept until finally tiredness took over.
By now you know what he woke up to. He tried again and again to be nice. To be sad. To do anything. It all ended the same way. He was either denied everything in his life or given the wowstest huwties. It all started to get to him. All he’d done was make bad poopies once and this is how it was now? It was the worst day ever, over and over. It was time to try anger.
Robbie woke up to the sound of rain and the smell of skettis. That didn’t matter right now though. He was mad. REALLY mad. This was so unfair that it gave him the worst feelings in the world! Strutting out of the saferoom he would walk into the kitchen and right past daddeh. The fluffy found one of his owner’s plush brown slippers and pinned himself over it, beginning to give it the nastiest bad enfies.
“Enf! ENF! Gibbin’ daddeh’s swipper bad huggies!” Well, this was a change in the usual routine at least. His owner watched this in shock. No yelling. Not yet. Robbie stared him right in the eyes as he fucked the slipper, then lifted his tail and covered the wall in a spray of poopies.
“Yew cwean dat up, bad daddeh! Dis am Wobbie’s housie naow!” He thought it would work. Nothing else had. This had been the only time that daddeh had made a reaction that was different.
There were no words. Instead, his owner walked over and lifted him up by his now shit-streaked tail. The fluffy twisted around, hollering.
“Bad upsies! Dummeh daddeh nu gib bestest Wobby bad upsies!” He had to try and continue this! It could change something! Maybe. He HOPED. It did change something, but not for the better. Robbie was brought over to the kitchen counter, his daddeh pinning him down on his back by pressing an elbow to his tummy. Rattling around, the man got a short paring knife out from the rack.
“N-Nu. Pwease nu daddeh. Nu shawp fing.” Robbie shook and quivered in fear as his daddeh moved his elbow off and used his hand to instead make the fluffy splay his legs and display his speciaw wumps and nu-nu stick. The stallion shook his head.
“Nu daddeh nu! Dat am speciaw pwace! NU DADDEH!” The fluffy got to reap the fruits of his new actions. The blade slipped against the fuzzy little sack containing his testicles. sliced into the sensitive flesh. Screeching, clenching his teeth together so hard he was sure they’d break, Robbie had to lay there and take it as his speciaw wumps were yanked as hard as his owner could manager. They came out, were plopped into the sink, and he’d use the knife to simply slash away his nu-nu stick. Huffing, puffing, the stallion couldn’t even beg anymore as he bled against the counter-top. Grabbed up by his tail, he was brought over to the trashcan and dropped facefirst into it. Bleeding out in the stinking garbage, he sobbed against a rotten old banana peel. That wasn’t the end of it though. The skettis had been on the stove the entire time as he hadn’t gone through with that phase of the repeating day yet. Robbie’s body was severely burned as the entire pot of it was dumped out over his back. The pain of it kept him awake far longer than he should have considering the blood loss. All he could do now was make cheeps and peeps like a little babbeh now. Until darkness came in and…and it was a new day again.
Every day Robbie tried something new. Opening the door to go outside? He could never manage it and daddeh punished him for trying to run away. Attacking his owner? He was just a little fluffy. Fluffies couldn’t manage anything. Hiding? Stuffing himself under a pile of stuffed toys worked for about 2 minutes until daddeh found him, beat him, and sorry-boxed him. There was no amount of pleading he could do. Begging. Tears. Getting angry. No matter what emotion or tactic he had, it didn’t matter. It ended all in the same ways.
This story has no end. It only has a beginning, one which repeats over and over again. Robbie wakes up and the first thing he notices is the rainstorm outside and the lack of any brightness. The second thing he notices is the smell of delicious skettis, something which he’ll never obtain. He’s tried to remain in the most neutral route. The one where he simply loses all of his toys and is denied what he most desires. Staying awake in that dark, empty saferoom with nothing to occupy his time. Eventually sleep comes though, and he’s back in that day again.