Special Cases Chapter 4 By Thesaltt
The next morning Kris woke up early for an appointment he had made with the Fluffy Emporium the previous night after his ordeal with Robin. He peered over the edge of the cardboard home of the alicorn to see him peacefully sleeping with a hoof in his mouth, though the poor things butthole still hadn’t fully recovered from the last night’s events. It quivered and pulsed with every beat of the fluffy’s heart, and a constant ooze for liquid brown leaked out, leaving an awful looking stain on the towel the fluffy had used as a bed.
Kris was careful not to disturb the sleeping foal when he got out of bed and went to the living room to check on the rest of his family. The pink mare and her other MLP style fluffies were still unconscious, much to Kris’ relief. He didn’t want to get ambushed by Pinky and her energy this early in the morning. He opened the fridge and pulled out the bag of baby carrots and filled a bowl with the same thing he had snacked on and fed Robin the night before. He knew Pinky would be very hungry when she woke up, and like most fluffies, would be insufferable until she ate. It was fine, he was in no rush to go to the appointment quite yet.
He placed the bowl of vegetables by the fluffy’s face and sat down on the couch. He pulled out his phone and began to flip through more message boards and other websites that would help educate him more on his current fluffy situation, concentrating his efforts more on how to fatten up and recover a severely malnourished fluffy. After several minutes, Kris heard an excited, high pitched gasp, two thuds, and the chirping of two distressed chirpy babies.
“NUMMIES!” The pink mare screeched right before she buried her face into the bowl of carrots. The two babies were completely forgotten by her as she stuffed her greedy face with more and more food.
Kris pinched the bridge of his nose and got up from the couch with a deep sigh. There was no way he was going to be able to take care of her if she was so easily distracted. It had taken her entirely way too long to notice half her litter was missing, and from what Kris could tell, didn’t care enough about her own babies to really take care of them at a level higher than a toddler taking care of a doll. Kris picked up the two little ones and then approached Pinky.
“Daffeh!” Her words were muffled by a mouthful of carrots she had tried to talk around. “Nuffehs fuu gewd!”
Kris placed the two foals on the ground next to their mother and quickly backhanded her flank with enough force to knock her on her side. She cried out in pain as her fluff hit the soft towel she had stayed on throughout the night, a small squirt of shit leaked out of her behind.
“Huwties! Why giff Pinky sowwy hoofsies?!” Tears streamed down her fluffy as the words escaped her lips. “Pinky du nuffin’ wrong!”
“Pinky, you’re forgetting about your babies…Again…” Kris grumbled as he placed the two little ones on her breats to let them suckle. “You knocked them off your back and didn’t give a second thought to them. If you do it again, you get a smack and the sorry box, got it?”
“Nu want sowwy boxie! Huu!” More tears escaped her eyes as she continued to shove her face with more food, careful this time not to hurt her babies.
Kris could already feel his bad mood cementing itself today. Something about the day starting with Pinky already being a bit of a spoiled brat put a foul miasma in the air. He went to his fridge and grabbed his gallon of whole milk along with a container of sugar. He then went to where he stored the rubber gloves as he closed the fridge door with his foot, and pulled one out. He blew into the glove to inflate it a bit before grabbing a toothpick to poke a hole in one of the fingers of the glove.
He placed all of the items down on the kitchen counter and pulled out his phone to recheck the instructions he saw online about an impromptu nipple for a fluffy to drink milk from, and a homemade formula for little fluffies. Basically just adding a generous amount of sugar to milk served as a nutritional replacement for real fluffy milk. Odd, but Kris wasn’t going to argue with it. He mixed a small big of milk and sugar in the glove and made sure it filled a bit more than the finger of the glove before heading back to the bedroom.
“Remember Pinky,” Kris began with a warning tone. “Take care of your babies and use the litter box if you need to. Bad poopies and peepees are not tolerated, understand?”
She quietly let out a little “huu” as she continued to eat and allow her foals to nurse. Her backside still hurt from the slap that her daddy had given her, which reinforced the message her daddy was trying to convey. She looked up to him and nodded a few times before going back to her food. It was so much better than the food she had to eat from the trash.
Kris entered his room once more and heard the cries of his favored fluffy coming from the box Kris had made into his home. In the short amount of time he had to do research, he couldn’t find anything to help find out how old Robin was. He was very small, and still chirped and peeped, but could also say certain words. He seemed present enough in mind to think and figure things out, which was more than what most younger foals could do, so he did seem much older than his size indicated, but he was also mentally disabled…Could he be fully grown?
“Hi buddy!” Kris looked over the side of the box to see Robin, who had his leg up in the air, his long tongue licking at his sphincter, though this was more like he was trying to lick his wounds rather than dig for shit. He slurped his tongue back into his mouth and jumped to his hooves.
“Peep! Dabbleh!” More little chirpy baby noises followed. Robin’s words didn’t seem to work so well as the peeps and chirps. From what Kris could gather, the fluffy was too excited to concentrate on saying more than a word or two without going into a myriad of baby noises.
“Yup, it’s Daddy.” Kris chuckled with a smile before he lifted the milk filled glove. “And he’s got a treat for you! I got some milk for you, and you don’t have to share any of it!”
Robin’s eyes went wide, his tail wagged back and forth so fast it was a wonder he didn’t take off flying. His mouth lolled open and his tongue slipped out the side with a dollop of drool. It wasn’t long before the blanket beneath him, and the fluff on his face and chest were soaked with fluffy slobber.
“Jesus Christ, Robin!” Kris shook his head and rolled his eyes. Something about this little guy’s quirks were less infuriating and more endearing to the first time fluffy owner. Even if Kris had the option to keep them all, he’d probably only choose to take in Robin at that point. “Alright, you remember the rules?”
Robin’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Rules? Something in the back of his simple mind itched. He knew there was something, but he couldn’t quite put his hoof on it. He sat down fully on his rump, stuck a hoof in his mouth to suckle, and the other pawed at his head, trying to slowly massage the thought out of his brain.
The image almost broke Kris. The foal was sitting up in the Winnie The Pooh thinking post with the biggest wall eyed look one could imagine. Kris quickly fumbled for his phone and took a picture before Robin had the chance to stop. As with most phones, the photo was taken with a flash and the fake mechanical wurr of a mechanical camera.
The sudden bright flash of light and foreign sound jostled something in Robin’s brain and everything fell into place. There was a price for food and love! He shouted the answer around his hoof which sent spit and snot flying from his face. His daddy just looked at him with a weird look and shrugged his shoulders. Growing frustrated, Robin tried to stomp the hoof that he had stuck in his mouth but forgot to let it go, which caused him to tumble forward.
“Pwize!” The foal shouted from his sprawled out position, a big smile on his face.
“That’s right, Robin. There’s always a price.” Kris praised the foal and helped him up to his hooves. “Now, what will the price be today?”
This question Robin had no answer to. He simply looked at his daddy with a confused look on his face and a tilt of his head. He only knew that the answer was that there was a price, but didn’t know what it actually was. He continued to suck on his hoof waiting for his daddy’s answer.
“That’s ok, we’ve only just started, so I can understand that you don’t quite get it yet.” His daddy told the little foal with a smile. “Here, let’s get started.”
Kris reached down and gripped a bit of extra skin on the foal’s side and twisted slightly. The little alicorn started to whine and groan as the uncomfortable feeling started to build. He tried to move away, but his daddy’s grip was too strong to struggle out of. The pressure slowly increased over time. Kris positioned his fingers so he could start to dig his short nails into the fluffy’s fragile skin.
“Bluu…” Tears leaked from the fluffy’s eyes and were instantly absorbed his his fluffy. The pain was starting to become too much for him.
More pressure, more nail, more pain. Kris wanted to hear the foal cry out, then he would be satisfied. It was only when his nails had pierced the skin, and redness started to coat the tip of Kris’ forefinger and thumb did the foal finally break.
“SPEEP! SPEEP!” Robin cried out over and over, chirps and cheeps rang out through the room as the fluffy’s brain could only respond with the most basic responses programmed deep within its brain. The garbled and broken fluffspeech wasn’t something that he could perform once the stress had reached a crescendo. A small bit of urine and liquid feces began to stain the towel beneath him.
“There we go.” Kris finally let go and whipped his fingers on the towel next to the fluffy. “You did a good job holding out for so long, Robin. You did make a little bit of bad poopies and peepees, but we can work on that as we grow, right?”
With the painful pressure gone, Robin’s brain started to come back to him. His mind wasn’t just filled with pain or the most basic instincts to run away and hide. When overwhelmed with stress, his thought process seemed to go away. He was no longer able to think and conceptualize or even form words in his own brain. It was almost like Robin went away, and a small, basic animal took his place, but Robin remembered all that happened when he couldn’t think. He remembered the pain, he remembered that this was all related to what had happened before and what would happen next.
With one hand, Kris started to get the glove ready for Robin, and with the other he gently stroked the fluffy’s pretty mane. Robin had turned away from his daddy not in anger or disgust, but only to lick the new crescent moon shaped wounds that hid underneath his fluffy. It tasted of booboo juice and yuckies, but something in his brain told him he needed to lick it until at least it stopped bleeding.
Kris tied the back end of the glove to the top of the box and let the fingers dangle below. He gently grabbed Robin’s face with his forefinger and thumb and directed his face towards the finger of the glove that Kris had previously punctured with the tooth pick. He used his other hand to punch the hoel closed so it wouldn’t leak all over the inside of the box and began to rub the deflated tip of the glove’s finger on Robin’s snout and lips.
Once again, instinct took over, and Robin opened his mouth to let the glove’s finger in. It was as if his tongue and mouth moved on it’s own as he sucked on it gently to coax the milk out of the rubber glove, just like a foal would to his mother’s own nipple. Only after a few suckles did the milk finally land on the foal’s tongue, and an explosion of sweet deliciousness covered his mouth.
His eyes opened wide and his mouth worked overtime to get more of the delicious ambrosia to pass his lips and go down his gullet. Was this the fabled milk that his mother had kept from him? Was this what she had raised his other multiple brothers and sisters with throughout his life? No wonder she kept it from him for this long! He couldn’t imagine how much love his mommah had for him to wait this long to give him any sort of milk! She had held out so long with so many heart hurties just for Robin to feel this good at this moment!
Kris looked at the quickly draining glove and realized he might have low balled the amount of milk his little foal might’ve wanted. He quickly rushed out of the room, back to the fridge, and grabbed the gallon of milk along with the container of sugar. A few quick steps later he returned to the glove almost completely emptied out. He untied the back of the glove from the box and poured more milk and sugar into the rubber membrane as Robin continued to suckle.
Kris held the glove and refilled it every so often for several minutes while surfing more forums on fluffies before Robin had finally had his fill. Kris obviously hadn’t paid too much attention, assuming that the little one would stop once he had no more room for the milk, but he soon found out he was giving the fluffy too much credit.
Robin didn’t stop drinking because he didn’t want any more, he stopped drinking because he physically couldn’t. His body had ballooned into an almost perfect sphere with a head, two small wings, and four legs attached. His stomach was far too distended and taught to allow his tiny legs to reach the floor of his makeshift home. He had lost his balance, rolled over on his side and couldn’t get back up. His legs and neck wiggled in vane as milk slowly oozed out of his partially opened mouth.
“Holy shit, Robin!” Kris exclaimed as he dropped his phone on his bed. After he struggled for a few moments, Robin suddenly fell limp, his eyes closed and his tongue out of his mouth as always. “Shit, shit, shit!”
Kris didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to kill the alicorn with kindness! He didn’t want to kill Robin at all! He lifted the box Robin was in and brought it to the living room where he saw Pink and her little ones still feeding. He went to the closet and grabbed an old canvas cat carrier. It had a swatch of carpet attached to a wood board , the long deceased cat’s grey fur this carrier had belonged to before still clung to it. He carefully removed it and placed it in the closet before approaching the mare and her babies.
“Alright, we gotta go.” Kris told the fluffies in a rushed tone. “Don’t argue, don’t bitch, just get the fuck in or else you’ll get the sorry box, understand?”
Pinky looked up at her daddy startled. She didn’t want to go, she wanted to continue eating the delicious food but since her daddy told her that if she complained she’d get the sorry box, she just got up quickly and wordlessly headed into the cat carrier her daddy had presented her with. The two little babies that were attached to her breasts were flung behind her as she rushed in.
Kris growled in frustration at the repeated mistreatment of her foals. Again, anything that caught her attention made her completely forget about her little babies that relied on her to live. It’s a wonder that her two prized foals had even made it this long. He gently picked up the two crying chirpy babies and placed them in the cat carrier with their mother, who excitedly exclaimed “Babbehs!” before taking them into her hooves and placing them back on her milky places.
A quick motion with his hand, and the zipper that allowed the bag-like cat carrier to close has been zipped. Kris carried the cat carrier with one hand, and the box with Robin in it with the other as he headed outside to his car. He didn’t know where else to go except the Fluffy Emporium where he was supposed to meet the owner to talk about Pinky. Maybe he’d know where to go or something? Kris’ brain was in full panic mode, and clear thought processes like going to the vet for something that was pretty animal-like had escaped him.
Key in ignition, Pinky in the back seat, the questionably comatose Robin in the front, and Kris in the driver’s seat. A quick shift of gears and a foot on the gas pedal, and the newly formed family sped their way to what might be their only savior.
