Stompie skipped on screen, giving a little twirl. Her apron, normally pristine, was decorated in red with flowers and vines. Blood red. It was likely actual fluffy blood. “Hello, my loyal Stompers! Stompie here with a very special episode. But first! I had a fun little encounter at home with a fluffy I’d like to share with you while I set things up! So lets get it started!”
Stompie’s intro played and her logo popped up afterwards. Footage was then showed, and looked like it was taken from a security camera. The woman inside the house had her face blurred, but it was unmistakably Stompie dressed in pink shorts and a white tank top Her long blonde hair was done up in a messy ponytail. The lighting in the video indicated it was early in the morning, a little past sunup. The woman was by a sliding glass door, where a lime green fluffy with a blue mane and four foals on her back was pawing at the door. Luckily audio was clear.
“Huuuu…Pwease meanie waww, wet fwuffy in!” The fluffy looked like she’d been caught in a rainstorm, evidence with the wet lawn and deck. It looked up to see the blonde woman, and brightened a bit. A human! They were nice! “Nice wady, pwease be nyu mummah! Fwuffy am bestest mummah! Nu wan much! Jus housie, an toysies, an sketti, an speshul fwend, an-“
“Enough!” The woman said, a bit sharply, and rubbed her forehead as if having a headache. “I’m not drunk enough to deal with this shit this early in the morning.” She sighed.
The fluffy gasped. “Bad wowdsies! Nu bad wowdsies wound babbehs!” She said, looking distraught. Apparently she thought she was already adopted.
Stompie grinned. “Tell you what…if you can get in here, I’ll give you all the food you want.” She offered. She beckoned the fluffy forward with a hand gesture, as if the glass wasn’t there.
The simple creature beamed, and waddled forward at top speed…only to slam into the door, her nose bleeding profusely. “OWIES! HUUHUUU! Wai waww huwtie smeww pwace? Meanie waww!”
Stompie laughed. “Oh, honey…too bad. I don’t think the wall wants you inside.” She said.
The mare turned around, and lifted her tail. “Waww get sowwy poopies!”
“Shit on my door and I’ll shove the hose up your ass!” Stompie said sharply. She already cleaned up shit from the livestreams and was not in the mood to clean it up when she wasn’t getting paid for it.
The mare was scared enough to not do sorry poopies, but a dribble of scaredy poopies and peepees ran down her on the deck.
Stompie rolled her eyes. “Looks like you need a running start.”
“Buh…dat nu gud fo babbehs…” the mare said, looking up at the four balls of fluff on her back.
“You’re right. How about you hand them to me, and I’ll bring them in first.” Stompie said. She saw the fluffy’s eyes flash, apparently seeing an opportunity. Stompie opened the sliding door, barely the width of her hand, and the fluffy tried to force her way in. She only got her head in, the rest of her body straining.
“Haf Haf….wai…fwuffy nu move?” She asked, unable to force her bulk inside.
“That was rude. I was going to help your babbehs. And you tried to force your way into my house. That’s no way to act.” Stompie said, a wicked grin forming. “I’ll take the foals as promised, but I don’t think I can take such a rude mother.” Stompie took the foals off the mother’s back. Pink, green, grey, and blue. Colorful, except for the grey one. “Oh, they’ll be perfect for tonight.” She said. “Except for you.” She tapped the blind grey chirpie. “Now…to deal with this bitch…”
“Bad wowdsies! Nu saw bad wowdsies in fwont of babbehs!” The mare cried.
Stompie smirked, and inched the sliding door closed, the first bit of pressure making the mare puff up her cheeks, annoyed. As it started to hurt, she began to complain. “Waww is huwties, nyu mummah! Make owies gu way! Am gud mummah!”
“Why are you on the streets?” Stompie asked the fluffy, stopping the progress of the door for a moment.
The fluffy forgot her discomfort and grinned. “Am bestest mummah! Owd mummah say nu babbehs. Bestest mummah wun way an hab babbehs! Dummeh owd mummah teww fwuffy neba cum bak.” She wagged her tail as if proud.
“Thought so. No wonder you were so demanding.” Stompie slowly closed the door, crushing the mare’s skull. Unfortunately this caused an explosion of shit out of her back end as well. After it was done, Stompie sighed. “So much for not wanting a mess in the morning. Now lets deal with the foals.
The camera switched from a security camera to a phone camera. The face wasn’t blurred, but a filter was over Stompie’s face. A purple smiling evil emoji blocked it out. “I guess we’ll be getting a little extra video, Stompers! I got four unexpected foals.” She tapped the plastic Tupperware container, which contained a lid with a total of one air hole. However, there were only three. The grey one was missing. “These three are going to be in my show later. But this last one…he’s a little too ugly for that. At least I think it’s a he. It’s too tiny to tell.” Stompie gave a ‘couldn’t care less’ shrug. “But I promised the mummah all they could eat. I don’t want to go back on my word, do I?” Stompie placed the foal on the table from offscreen. It began peeping on the cold metal of the kitchen island. Stompie turned around, inadvertently giving the camera a good view of her shorts clad ass as she hunted around for a few things. She found a 1/4 gallon of milk, a syringe, and plastic tubing. “All the milk a chirpie could eat.” She said in creepy singsong voice as she filled the syringe. She attached the tubing to one end of the syringe, then forced the other end down the chirpie’s throat. This caused some peeps of distress until Stompie began pushing the syringe, the little chirpie’s stomach filling. It was content at first…until it was full and the milk did not stop. The chirpie blindly reached forward with its soft hooves, trying to push away whatever was pushing milk into it. It attempted to turn its head to no avail. It could not dislodge the tube even if its hooves could reach it.
Stompie kept pressing down the syringe as if she didn’t notice. Of course she did. “What a broken foal. All you ever want is ‘miwkies, miwkies’. Well now you’re getting it. All the miwkies you could ever need.” Milky shit was leaking out of the foal now, on the paper toweling that had been laid down on the counter. The foal was crying as now milk was coming out of its nose, even its eyes. It began to twitch as there was no more room. Stompie continued until there was no more milk in the syringe. She laughed, and pulled the tubing out. “Now THAT’S how you feed a chirpie!” She said. Then leaned forward to the camera, using the foal like a little toy. She spoke in a squeaky voice, making the foal move in a pantomime of talking “‘I hope you enjoy the show tonight!’” With that, the cell phone video ended.
The scene was back to Stompie’s basement. The top looked unchanged, but it was likely the ground around Stompie had her needed supplies. “So that happened. I had a hell of a time cleaning up, but at least I had some fun in the morning.” She giggled. “You’ll see those three foals later tonight. As for tonight’s theme….it’s the fashion episode!” Stompie struck a pose with the peace sign just below her mask’s eyes.
“Boys, don’t click away! This is unisex fashion. And I don’t mean fluffy fur. That’s done before, and I can’t sew. I mean fluffies as accessories. Living ones at that. Who’d want to wear dead fluffies? Well, dead before you put them on anyways.” She gestured down at her apron. “Now this is indeed fluffy blood. It was painted just for this show by my dear friend BLUDFLUFF. She makes wonderful works of art out of dead fluffies, including taxidermy. There’s more pics on my Instagram, and exclusive ones on Paetreon.” She brought up a tub of chirpies, but not the ones from this morning.
“First on the activity list…keychains!” Stompie looked delighted. “Now, I saw a tutorial on how to make these, and wanted to try my hand at it.” She looks at the camera. “Now, it did say foals, but I’m going to try both a chirpie, and a walkie talkie. Either way, they’ll be pillowed. I guess it just depends on if you want a smaller or bigger one.” She shrugged. “First…we’ll go with the chirpie.” She fished around, covering the eye holes of her mask. “Who’s unlucky day is it~?” She sang out, and chose a foal at random. She pulled it out and uncovered her eyes. The chirpie she picked was sky blue, but a unicorn. “Oh, he’s pretty. Think he was a bestest babbeh?” She asked her audience. “Alright, so first step, and pretty much a universal rule to working with these things, empty them.” Stompie emptied the little unicorn over a waste bucket, gentler than usual. “I don’t want to break any ribs. That shortens the usefulness.” She explained. She made sure the thing was all emptied before she got a pair of sharp scissors. “Now…you can break the legs and leave them like sausages, or leave them with little nubs. I think the little nubs are cute on foals. You can use craft scissors for this or regular ones cuz the foal’s lil bones are so fragile.” Stompie then snipped off about 3/4 of the foal’s stumpy leg.
“SCREEEEEEEEE!” The chirpie screamed, its first word other than chirps and peeps. Its very first words were cries of pain. The babbeh would have emptied its bowels if it had anything left in them. Stompie hummed as if blinded to the foal’s plight. She tried to get the cuts as close to even as possible, but it was guessing. “You guys choose whatever length you want the nubs. I like em pretty short. Sometimes, if you have a fluffy that loves to run, it’s good to cut off just the hoof, or enough so the fluffy can kinda see their legs but never use them.”
By the time Stompie cut off all four legs, the chirpie was sobbing. It finally uttered its second word. “M…mummah! Huuhuuuu!” It waved its bleeding nubs around. “S…sabe….babbeh….” The thing was still blind, but trauma had forced it to speak. Stompie laughed. “Oh, little foal…nobody is coming to save you.” She said cruelly to it. She looked back at the camera. “Now, you can cauterize or close the wound any way you want to. I’m personally going to stitch it closed. Cauterizing is good, but I don’t like the looks of it.” Stompie only had to use two stitches per leg to close up the wound. “There we go. All closed.” She put cotton balls to the wounds to clear up the blood and help the healing process.
“Next step, Stompers, is to close up the rear. The foal is already empty, but you don’t want it to leak anything. Plus if you want, you can feed it a little so it’ll last longer. But nobody wants that crap, literally, all over their things. The site I got this idea from recommends crazy glue or hot glue. I’ll be going with hot glue…because it’s more fun. Stompie got the already plugged in hot glue gun, putting the hot tip slightly into the foal’s rear as it screamed and flailed. She squeezed the trigger to leave a bead of glue in the cavity as she pulled the glue gun out. The glue was already hardening as a string connected the bead and glue gun. Stompie easily broke that connection. “See? Much more fun!” She said.
“This third step is optional, but I’ll do it since it’s annoying now that the foal can talk.” She pulled out the thread. “I know I said I’m bad at sewing, but I can do a few stitches. I’m going to sew up the fluffy’s mouth. I won’t bother with removing the tongue. It’s fun sometimes to let the little shit try to talk and find its lips don’t work.” Stompie held the snout closed easily with one hand, while the already threaded needle pushed through the flesh of the snout. The fluffy did not have enough critical thinking to try to mess up the stitching. It could only cry, muffled sounds now that its jaw was closed against its will. The stitches were a thick black thread, three Xs across the snout to close it. “All shut~!” Stompie sang out. She started to set the fluffy down, only to drop him the last few centimeters. The face fluff was damp with tears from unopened eyes. It was lucky in that aspect. It likely would have had its eyes sewn closed if it opened them.
“Now we gotta make the keychain. If you like your fluffies like a plushie, you’re all done. But for those who wanna make the keychain…we get the real fun part now.” She took out the keychain attachments. It consisted of an already made part. All that was to do was to attach the small eye hook with a screw to the foal. “I recommend buying these. You can get them in your local craft store or order online like everyone does.” Stompie said. “You’ll need the glue again. I’m using hot glue again. I could use crazy glue and make sure it never comes off from the foal but we know that the skin around it would easily tear.” Stompie pulled out a bit of hair from the foal. She looked around, and decided her place. “I’ll put it around the back end, since I’ve already got some glue there.” Stompie pressed the screw into the foal’s skin, twisting as she went.
Muffled chirping came from the foal, who’d been awake the whole time. Once the hook was shoved in, a dab of hot glue was dabbed around the opening. “There! Now you wait…maybe a minute for the glue to harden? A minute just to be sure. No remember, I’m in no way a pro, and this is a livestream. I’ll be putting a edited video up later of things that are supposed to go right. Those are pretty fun to do, actually. I like to practice beforehand sometimes, but you never know what will happen. Sometimes a fluffy just f*cks things up with its stupidity.”
Stompie grinned. “Did you like my stalling? Let’s see if the fluffy is ready.” She said. She hooked a finger around the ring, and lifted it.
The fluffy made muffled chirps of pain, seeming to cry as Stompie made him bounce a few times. Tears dripped onto the table.
“He’s done! I’ll take the cotton off later. I don’t want my new accessory dying. Maybe he’ll even open his eyes later! I could make his little leggies dance in front of him!” Or make a build-a-fluff! Or do you kids call it a Frankenfluff? I can never keep track.” Stompie carefully placed the foal offscreen. He’d live through the episode, though perhaps he would regret it.
“Next craft! We’re gonna go with a necklace. This one can seem a little bit girly, but it’s actually more festive. I’ve seen it suggested for Stomping Day and other such activities where fluffies are encouraged to be tortured. I’ve even soon X-mas ornaments on a tree, and a smarty as a star. Darling things, really.”
Stompie took out the tub of the three foals. “We’ll use these three now!” She said. The bottom was lined with paper toweling. It was likely to catch any messes, rather than out of any kindness to the foals. It looked quite used already. Stompie made a face. “Yeah, make sure you also clean the foals before using them. It’s easier to use wet wipes, cuz otherwise you have to wait for them to dry. I just get so impatient I usually squish them.” She gave a little giggle.
She took out a necklace that had a few hooks on it. “The instructions to make it are in the attached video, but this is indeed pre made. I’m sure some crafty online stores can make one for you, or you can get the products yourself.” Stompie took the lid off the foal’s enclosure, making them seem to gasp for air. It had been limited in there, and they peeped and chirped frantically.
“Them being able to make noise is very important. But it’s your choice to go with peeps or words. I’ll be making two of them, cuz you can hang them either by the back or the hooves.”
Stompie took out each of the little chirpies, and took a wet wipe to them. She emptied them over the trash can before wiping them clean. The little foals cooed, and Stompie rolled her eyes. “Enjoy it, cuz it’s the last bit of comfort you’ll ever have.” She said ominously to the clueless creatures. She got out the tiny corks. “You’ll need these, of course. I go with corks here so you can reuse the foals for multiple occasions.” The foals were pretty colors of pink, green, and blue. The colors weren’t too eye watering or too dull. Stompie picked up the green one by the scruff first, a little filly. She cheeped in discomfort as she was roughly handled. Stompie pinched the loose skin, and stuck one of the hooks through the skin.
“SCREEEEEE!” The green filly flailed, trying to escape. It was a fruitless attempt, but it gave it a good shot.
Stompie smirked and gave it a little flick in the snout. “What a little wimp, right?” She laughed. “Alright, who’s next…” She reached in, taking out the pink one, another filly. “Aw, you coulda been a perfect toy for a little girl. But I found you. So you don’t.” Stompie taunted. She pierced the little pink foal in much the same way as her sister.
“SCREEEE! O…owies!”
“Aww! Her first words!” Stompie gushed. “And we were all here to see this momentous occasion!” She gave the foal’s cheek a rough pinch, causing another light “SCREEEE!”
“Now for the last foal.” Another pick up by the scruff, and she found it was a colt. “Let’s see if you have a better fate than your grey brother.” She told him, and pierced him next.
“SCREEEEEE!”
“At least it’s your neck. I could have made it through your pathetic genitals.” She gave them a flick for emphasis, which caused the foal to scream again, and attempt to curl into a ball to protect himself. His little tail nub even tried to cover him.
“Our necklace is done!” Stompie held it up for emphasis, which also made the foal’s wounds worse, as their body now had to be supported with the pierced area. They all screamed in pain, which made Stompie jiggle the necklace a bit more to taunt them. “Making crafts is pretty fun, huh?” She said to her audience. She hung the necklace from a hook in frame. “Now we’ll go onto the second. I’ll hang some older foals from the hooves. Ones that can talk and give us a little more details about their pain.” Stompie reached into the beloved foal box, pulling out a foal, who’s little legs were flailing as if it could run away through the air. It was an ugly blazing red and puffed up its cheeks.
“Dummeh hoomin! Wet smarty gu! Wan nummies an speshul hugs and house an-“
Stompie let the fluffy go and it thudded on the table, breaking its fragile legs.
“SCREEEEEE! WEGGIES! NU!”
“Oops, my hand slipped.” She said, before curling it onto a fist and slamming it on the foal. “Oops again. So clumsy today.” A few more pounds with her first, and the foal was dead, a single hoof twitching. “Well, I guess we’ll have to use a different, slightly more polite foal.” She claimed, and fished around for another budding smarty, though it wasn’t quite as severe as that other one. This fluffy was sky blue.
“Screee! Wet gu! Am bestest babbeh! Wan mummah! Mummah! Sabe babbeh!” It yelled, its head flailing. Stompie pinned the fluffy down with a hand over it’s back. The foal was batting and flailing its hooves but Stompie paid it no mind as the second necklace was brought close. There were six hooks for three foals, the hooks were close together so two hooks could be used per foal.
Stompie pushed the hook through one soft hoof of the foal.
“SCREEE! WEGGIE HUWTIES!” The foal screamed. The other hoof went into its mouth as it suckled on it furiously.
Stompie saw a flash of inspiration. “Give me hat hoof, or I can make it worse.” Stompie said. She saw the foal shake its head while suckling. Stompie gave the camera a wink. “I did warn him.” She pushed the hook through the foal’s snout, as well as through the hoof.
“SCREEEEEE!” Came the garbled scream from the fluffy as it got even more pain than just its hoof.
“Foal one is done. Unfortunately he’s not all that talkative.” Stompie claimed. She reached in to get another foal. She went for a random one, and pulled out a yellow fluffy. Bright, butter yellow. “Bleh. Not a fan of bright yellows. Sears my eyes.” She said.
“Pwease nu huwties! Am onwy widdle babbeh!” It begged.
“Aw, only a ‘widdle babbeh’, huh?” Stompie asked in mock concern. The foal nodded frantically, as if she’d be saved. “So no big hurties. So you’ll only get little hurties!” Stompie was holding the foal by the scruff, and smirked as it peed itself in fear. She knew that was not what it meant, and she decided to hang this foal by the ears. “See? Little hurties!” Stompie knew the ears were far more sensitive on fluffies.
“SCREEEEEEEE! PWEASE NU HUWTIES! POINTY OWIES! OWIES! MUMMAH! SAB BABBEH! HUUHUUUHUUU!”
Stompie giggled at the foal’s crying. “Mummah is long dead.” She looked at the camera. “Her owner got sick of her shit. Literally. She kept missing the litter box and blaming it on the foals. So she got kicked to death. The foals were given to me. I’m pretty sure she kept an alicorn or something. The only good one.” She looked down at the foal, who’d heard, and had wide eyes of horror that her mummah was dead, and a munsta babbeh was getting a nice home whilst she suffered.
Alright, we’ve got one last pair of hooks.” Stompie said. Her eyes lit up to find a certain fluffy. She pulled out a sickly looking blue foal…with two heads. One head was fully formed, the other looked far underdeveloped. “Here we go! Before anyone freaks out about the money that can be made, this little foal is too sick to live. At least he can be a star before the end of his life, right?” She asked. “Look to the upper right of the screen, and it’ll give you the details of the owner. Maybe you can breed your mare with her stud and have your own two headed fluffy.”
The two headed fluffy looked at Stompie. “Foweba sweepies?” It asked, looking weary.
Stompie nodded. “Yup.” The foal only nodded. It seemed he’d accepted it. “A noble end. You’ll feel a little pinch.” She pushed the hooks through the hoofs, causing a brief scream of pain from the foal.
“And our second necklace is complete!” She held it up for the audience to clearly see. A little jiggling, and she put it on the other hook.
“Alright…our next one…plushies! And we get to use adult fluffies or foals for this one!” She said. She reached in to find a foal first. She pulled out a white one with a sour expression. “Expensive, but a shit attitude.” She said. She emptied the foal, then took out four long thin dowel rods, sharpened at the ends. “To make a foal plush, first you need to close the fluffy. I’m gonna use hot glue again.” She said, and got the gun. The foal could feel the heat as it got close, and began struggling.
“NU! Nu touwch babbeh poopie pwace! Nu touwch! SCREEEEE!” The fluffy was sealed, both its rear and speshul pwace. “NUUU! NEE SPESHUL PWACE TU MAKE BABBEHS!” It screamed.
Stompie got the familiar string and thread. “Gonna have to shut it up too, because they bitch and moan ALL the time.” She sewed the mouth closed, having to give the ear a twist when the little shit tried to turn its head away.
“Now for the turning them into plushies! You could always skin them and put that over a form, but that’s already a made toy. This is 100 percent genuine fluffy! We just stick the rods in so it can’t move!” Stompie said happily. The fluffy looked wide eyed at Stompie, but was unable to run, as Stompie had grabbed onto her tail. “Hey, at least she’s smart enough to know this is gonna be bad. For her. For us…this will be very fun.” She said. She grabbed one leggie, and held it out in an ‘upsies’ pose. The foal’s other arm rose in unison, into the pose. Stompie held it straight as she pushed the rod into the soft, sensitive flesh of the fluffy.
Muffled screes of pain merged from the sewed mouth, and the fluffy’s eyes streamed tears.
“If she doesn’t stop crying, we may have to replace those eyes too. Or maybe you like dolls eyes that follow you around the room.” She taunted. A wooden rod went through the other hoof. They went all the way in, and would leave barely a hole when the flesh healed.
“Now for those back legs. I don’t like the back leg upsies pose.” Stompie said. She straightened the legs out, slightly spread, and held them there, before pushing rods in. “And there we have it! A little foal plush! Probably for display only. If you hug it, it might start to hope. Or maybe it’ll be sad cuz it can’t ever hug you back.” Stompie shrugged. “Now let’s get an adult one!”
Stompie ended up choosing a stallion. Shamrock green with a yellow mane and tail. She smirked. “I think I’ll leave his mouth uncovered. But we’re gonna seal him up.” She got the glue gun, which caused the stallion to go wide eyed with fear.
“Pwease nu huwties, scawy wady.”
“Scary, hm? I guess that’s accurate enough. But it’s gonna be hurties. A lot of them.” She told him. She had to use her arm to pin him due to his size. She chose a large stallion. The glue went into his asshole, which caused him to scream, and try to run away. He was stuck fast, and helpless as it also went into the tip of his fluffy dick, sealing his urethra. He about passed out from that.
Stompie smirked. “And now we get more rods!” These ones were slightly thicker, but could still be broken over Stompie’s knee, if she so wished. She chose a standard sitting pose for the fluffy, and pushed each rod in, relishing the ‘screeee’s of pain each time. The fluffy sobbed and begged, but he was unable to break free or move more than his head.
She displayed the two knew plushes side by side. “That’s it for this episode, Stompers. Leave your comments below, as well as suggestions or themes for my future streams. See ya!”
With that, she signed off.