Chapter 7: Streak Meets a Smarty
Eric bolted awake his heart was pounding, and he was breathing hard. He fell back into the bed and immediately sat back up. His bed was soaked with sweat, what did he dream? He pulled off the sheets and dumped them in the laundry. He went back into the room to see Streak still asleep in her nest. Eric sighed grabbed some clothes and showered off. One hour later, 6 in the morning, Eric’s alarm went off. Streak woke up and slammed her hoof down on the alarm clock, turning it off. Eric walked in on Streak while she was stretching, he instinctively went to pick her up, but she stretched her wings and flew to the ground. Eric nodded and went into the kitchen, one quick breakfast later, and Eric left for work.
Streak went outside and began running in circles to exercise her legs. this lasted for an hour. No longer was she a cute fluff ball, now she could easily outrun any fluffy, she could even keep up with a Chihuahua. She flexed her wings and began trying to take off. Eventually she jumped/flapped a whole meter into the air, and flapped onto a shelf on the fence. She looked through a small hole in one of the boards, and froze. A smarty and a very pregnant mare were inspecting the vegetables next to the fence. The mare began eating the vegetables, especially the parsley since it looked like green spaghetti. Streak put her front hooves on the top of the fence to look over; she was just about to warn the mare, when she saw another fluffy. It was a brown stallion. She watched as the smarty walked over to the brown stallion, and shat on the ground in front of it. The stallion ate the poop, then licked the smarty’s ass clean. Streak watched an, now excitedly, waited for the parsley to take effect.
“Uhhh speshuw fwend. Pwease babbehs am comin’.” “Wat? Buh dey nu suppos’ to come fo’ anothah few bwite times.” Streak got an idea and ducked below the fence, “Dummeh stoopi’ mawe an’ stawwion. Youw babbehs hate ‘ou boff fo’ tweatin’ bwown fwuffie bad.” The smarty was not fooled by this and answered Streak, “Whewe am stoopi’ fwuffie. Come to smawty an’ get sowwy hoobes. Othewwise, smawty wiww gib foweba sweepies!” The smarty was so fixated on Streaks voice that he failed to notice the brown fluffy begin eating some carrots and the ‘green sketti.’ The mare began to groan and howl, but the smarty was to busy banging on the fence, looking for a way in, to notice her pain. Streak looked across to the gate, she could open it, so she did. The smarty saw the gate swing a little inward, and he rammed it. The gate flew open, Streak was waiting. The Smarty looked her up and down, he could not see her wings, but her horn shown in the light. The smarty instantly got a boner.
“Oh fwuffy’s fwuff. ‘ou su pwetty. ‘ou am goin’ to be smawty’s second speshuw fwend, an’ gib fwuffy wots of pwetty babbehs.” The mare screamed in pain. The smarty swung round and saw his pregnant mare on her back and crying, her baby bulge slowly contracting into her stomach. The brown fluffy slowly approached and hugged the screaming crying mare. Suddenly, she gave a horrifying shriek and stopped screaming. The smarty rushed forward, and pushed the brown fluffy off, “Stoopi’ poopies fwuffy, am gibin’ fwuffy’s spechaw fwen huwties.” The brown fluffy just lay on the ground and watched as five dead babies slipped out of the mare’s vagina, followed by her actual uterus.
The mother lay there and cried. After fifteen seconds of crying, she went into cardiac arrest and died. The only living baby began cheeping the smarty turned to the brown fluffy and through tears began beating him, thankfully to death, “It youw fauwt that mawe am dead. It youw fauwt that babbehs am sweepin foweba. Now ‘ou take foweba sweepies.” The broken brown fluffy just died. His rage was subsided by the cheeping of one of the foals. Quickly, the stallion then licked the foal clean, then immediately killed it, once he saw it was brown. Streak sat there watching, rage building inside her. The smarty turned to streak, “Nao ‘ou wiww be smawty’s speshuw fwend. ‘ou wiww gib smawty wots an’ wots of pwetty babbies. Any poopies ow dummeh babbehs wiww become smawty’s effie babbehs.” Streak went into a sort of pounce position, flexed her wings so they touched her horn, and hissed, “Brwng it! ‘ou babbeh kiw’in, poopie makhen fwuffy wapist.”
The smarty charged screaming, “Aww munsta fwuffies nee’ go foweba sweepies.” Streak jumped over him flapping her wings and spinning around. She stabbed the smarty’s back legs and flipped him over. Instantly, the smarty changed his tune, “Pwease nu gib fwuffy huwties. Am gud fwuffy.” “Weally, ‘ou kiwwed bwown fwuffie an’ wittwe babbeh. 'ou am dah weaw munstah fwuffie.” Streak crushed his testicles with one bite. The smarty screamed, and screamed, and screamed.
Finally, he stopped and flipped himself over, trying to crawl away from Streak. “Nu move.” Streak stabbed her horn into the smarty’s rectum, reared up, and ripped her horn out, causing fatal internal bleeding. Streak panted and went to go drag the other corpses into the yard, and pushed them all into a corner. She then went back outside and finished eating all the parsley, closed the gate, and began cleaning herself off.
Eric came home to a messy Streak and a bunch of dead fluffies. After Streak told her tale, Eric picked up the bodies and pitched them into the composter. He cleaned Streak up and put her to bed, after a rewarding meal of Chef Boyardee ravioli. He watched the backyard camera feed to see what had happened, and smiled at Streak’s intelligence in battle strategy. He watched as she jumped, well flew, over the smarty, and spun around to disable his back legs. He watched, and felt his eyes widen, as she shoved her horn into the smarty, and rip it out, causing the fatal internal bleeding.
Eric’s eyes sparkled with pride as Streak dragged the bodies into the yard, ate the rest of the parsley. Streak was now in her nest, and Eric was laughing at her fighting style. Finally, Eric went to bed, but Cire woke up to check on the mare in the basement. She had finally decided to die. Cire did an autopsy, but the results showed that she died of heart break syndrome… interesting. If only they knew what was coming.
Chapter 8: Fifteen Stallions vs. One Mare
Eric was happy with his life. Streak had proven that she could protect herself, so Eric could now relax and leave her at home. It had been a month since Streak had destroyed the smarty. Now that her wings were fully developed, her body was growing steadily, and now was almost half the size of a normal fluffy. Victoria and Eric finally fixed the problems with the jelly-rolls, or Jellenheimers, and released them to the public. A few days later the vegetable friends were released with five variants, carrot, potato, corn, lettuce, and radish. The vegetable friends were a hit, people loved them, even if people could barely bring themselves to kill the babies/produce. Noah and Eric shared a strictly just friends’ relationship that improved each day. Eric’s life was finally good, but it was not to last.
Over the years, many people have been stirring up trouble for Hasbio, remnants of PETA, people who incorrectly think that fluffies deserve the same rights as dogs and cats, and many radicle religious groups that deem them abominations. They were finally convincing people that Hasbio was responsible for many things, destruction of nature, allowing for their ‘things’ to corrupt youth and make them violent, and worst of all, Hasbio is responsible for the dwindling pollinator population. This was causing some worry, but the public is not stupid so not a lot of worrying. However, there was some truth to the first claim, fluffies were destroying natural habitats, but simultaneously, they were also helping predators lay off eating the actual animals. Still, unfortunately people love to ignore these statistics.
In order to overcome this hatred, one of Hasbio’s employees, no-typls-try-again, came up with an idea that would solve two problems. People find the vegetable friends hard to pollinate, and the population of bees was concerning. This idea would take a very long time to create, as it would require bee DNA, but shrinking them would be the most difficult part. In fact, the Hasbio board decided that micro-fluffies would be easier to develop first. It would take some time, but after the press release, Hasbio finally had some breathing room, the rest of Eric’s day continued rather well. Streak’s day also started well.
It was the same type of day for Streak too. She had begun her day sadly, it was raining hard, so she had to stay inside for the entire morning. When noon came, Streak raced outside and began running, playing, flapping/scrambling onto the fence ledge and diving into a pile of grass clippings. This continued for a while until she got tired and dropped into her outdoor fluffy nest. She was awoken a few hours later by a banging noise. At first, she thought it was just part of the dream and began drifting off again, but the noise came again. Then suddenly she heard it again and a small snap, “Gud, stoopi’ gate am bweakin’. Nao do it again toughie.” “Pwease smawty, fwuffy’s head huwtin’ fwuffy su much. Pwease gib toughie wittwe west.” “Stoopi toughie, smawty said wun into dummeh gate again. NAO!” There came a whine, the sound of a fluffy being hit by another, and then another voice, “Smawty, wet pointy fwuffy bweak gate.” There came another splintering sound.
Streak raced to the gate and held it in place, fear making her forget her wings. There came three consecutive shudders, and finally, the gate’s central board splintered. Streak went into shock, this was strong wood, but snapped out of it when a unicorn type horn peeked through the hole. Streak puffed out her cheeks, took a defiant stance and stared the invader dead in the eyes.
The unicorn type stared back, with fear. He pulled away from the gate, and was replaced by the curved horn of an alicorn. Streak took a step back, the air leaving her cheeks. The alicorn stared at her, any shock in his eyes at her being there was replace solely by lust. “Dis wand is Smawty’s wand nao. Gib smawty aw ‘ou nummies, toysies, an’ gib smawty bestest feews.” This Smarty was an alicorn type with a feces brown coat, urine yellow wings, blood red horn, vomit mare and tail, with a very clashing pink undercoat.
Streak’s jaw dropped and she stared at the hideous creature sideways. “What am dummeh fwuffy wooken a’.” Streak stared, ‘how is this guy a smarty? Daddy said that alicorn types could not be smarties.’ She briefly remembered what he had said, “There are two ways a fluffy can become a smarty. The first way is that a fluffy’s neural… umm, mind machine is damaged. The second way is that momma fluffies would treat a specific baby extra specially, but mother alicorns almost never have a favorite.” Her mind snapped back to the present. The smarty had been approaching her slowly, and stopped when he saw her eyes re-adjust and meet his.
Streak drew herself to her full height and un-furled her wings. The smarty’s jaw dropped and his eyes bulged with shock, and of course, even more lust. “Mawe’s wingies su big. Smawty gon’ hab su many pwetty babbehs wiff ‘ou. Nao come hewe an’ gib smawty gud feews an’ wots of speshuw huggies.” Alarm bells went off in Streaks head. Her stunted growth had not affected her ovary development, her first period had occurred about a month ago. So far, she could have ten to thirteen babies. She went into pounce form and charged the smarty her horn leveled at his nose. He sidestepped her attack expecting to avoid her entirely, but was dumb-founded when she flapped to stop the forward momentum, spin around, and slash his back left leg.
The smarty jumped forward and ran until he reached the patio steps. He scrabbled up while screaming, “Hewp smawty toughies. Gib dummeh mawe huwties. Buh not foweba sweepies, smawty wants speshuw huggies fwom hew.” The sound of splintering boards followed. Streak used her wings to backflip and turn at the same time, she had been practicing these tricks for a while, and faced the oncoming hoard. She flared her wings as the gate flew open, the board that had splinted was the one that connected the gate lock to the fence. Fifteen testosterone fueled stallions flooded in, they were a mixed bunch, six unicorns, seven pegasus, and two earth types. All of them were good colors, and all of them were staring. One of the earth types spoke up, “Wait did’en smawty say fwuffy was dah onwy pointy-wingy fwuf…” “Awicown,” Streak cut him off, “Stweak an’ ‘our stoopi smawty am awicown fwuffies, an’ Stweak am eben mowe speshuw, can fwy.” The pegasus types in the herd began laughing, “Fwuffie am wying, an’ wyin’ fwuffies get huwties.”
The all ran around her surrounding her on fifteen sides. They all charged, Streak crouched and readied her wings. The unicorns charged with their heads down, the pegasus types buzzed their useless wings, and the earths screeched. Just before they could jump her, she jumped, her wings flapping fast, she flew to the broken in gate and turned around to see a fluff-plie of fluffies all shouting and arguing. They were stomping and poking, the unicorns were poking, biting, at nothing? no at an invisible fluffy that was staring at them from the gate. The smarty watched Streak fly out watched the fifteen morons. One pegasus looked up and saw her; he charged without telling the others. As he approached his wings buzzed and he reared up to stomp her, but was met with a curved horn to his throat. She shook her head back and forth and threw him to the side. The others were now looking at her, they saw the fluffy slump to the side and begin gagging on his own blood.
They stepped back showing five dead fluffies, one earth, three unicorn, and one pegasus. All of them stomped, poked/stabbed, and bitten to death. The remaining nine fluffies charged. Streak jumped over the charge; the morons smacked their heads together. She raced forward and stabbed one of the unicorn’s testicles, immediately jumping backward as the fluffy screeched and began bucking. He raced forward and smacked the fence wall, just below where a pot of earth sat on the edge. The pot fell and there came a of breaking of bones, a scream and the herd of stallions turned to see their unicorn brother’s head crushed in. The last earth type raced around and charged from the back. Streak turned to face him, and stared him down.
The earth pony slowed down, Streak dashed forward, jumped, and plunged her horn into the earth pony’s eye. The two unicorns charged from the side, Streak now panting hard saw them come, and jumped straight up flapping to avoid their horns. The unicorns were going fast enough that their dull horns pierced each other’s skulls. The last five fluffies were pegasus types. Meanwhile the Smarty was eating the kibble in Streak’s food bowl, drinking from her protein enhanced water. He lolled in the shade and watched as this impressive fluffy managed to get his herd to kill themselves, ‘gud nao pwetty mawe am aww smawty’s.’ The five pegasus were now enraged and thinking less than they normally do.
They charged in an arrow formation. Streak turned around and ran to the patio, the fluffies followed closely gaining ground as they ran. She jumped up and backflipped, using her tail to turn up-right like a cat. She glided over them, as the five rammed into the patio. One of them hit a partially-rotten board and his head went clean through splinters impaling his neck. Just like his brothers, this pegasus died choking to death on his own blood. One turned and felt a horn plunge into his chest, his heart punctured. The other three stared as Streak raced away, she needed water. The mini-pool was cool, and Streak rolled in it, her panting slowing as she calmed. The last three raced to the edge and stopped. One, however, fell in, screamed, and drowned? ‘moron,’ thought Streak. She drank and then spat water at the other two. They fled as Streak pushed the moron’s body out. She soaked for a while, the two pegasus circling just out of spitting distance. The smarty watched sitting in a patch of shade as his herd was now down to two, ‘how am dah stoopi’ mawe sittin’ in dah wawa.’ Realization smacked the smarty, he ran down the steps and raced towards Streak, “NU SMAWTY DON’ WAWA BAD FO’ FWUFFIE!” Streak knew what was coming. She spread her wings and flapped, desperately trying to dry them, she knew what was coming. The smarty saw her getting ready to jump, and in accordance prepared to spin and hit her; Streak held some water in her mouth, and as the Smarty charged, she side stepped him.
She raced away and spart water directly into the face of one of the pegasus, he drowned, moron. The smarty landed in the water and felt it soak into his fluff. Streak was shaking her fluff getting rid of the water ASAP. The last pegasus rammed her side, she rolled and sat up, the pegasus jumped on her. Her horn impaled through his mouth and into the roof of his mouth impaling his nasal passage. He began to spit/sneeze blood, his dying body slipped off her. She righted herself, and screamed. The smarty bit down on her right wing and the sound of bone breaking shortly followed. The smarty then began to kick bite and stomp her. Finally, he stopped; Streak controlled herself and ran for the fluffy-door. Blood trailing from her and her limp wing. The smarty followed. Streak ran and limped to the sofa and scrambled up she hid in the pillows. The smarty took his time getting to the sofa; the whimpers of Streak were quiet but made her location obvious. The blood ended at the coffee table and the smart sat looking at the shivering pillows.
Streak looked out and saw the Smarty sitting and waiting. She divebombed the smarty avoiding his horn and smacking his nose. She raced away the smarty gripped his nose, and after a few seconds raced after her. “Weabe Stweak awone meanie fwuffie. Stweak nu desewbe oweeis.” The smarty walked after the limping Streak, “Nu wowwy Stweak, smawty onwy wants babbehs fwom ‘ou. Smawty needs new hewd to wead. Smawty goin’ to make ‘ou dummeh daddeh gib smawty toysies, an’ sketties, an’ bestest effie babbehs when Stweak has tummy babbehs, an’ if dummeh daddeh won’t gib smawty these things. Fwuffie wiww gib him wowstes’ sowwy poopies, den wowstes’ huwties, an’ den smawty wiww make dummeh daddeh go fowebah sweepies.”
Streak began to panic; he was getting closer and closer. She ran to the last place she considered safe, her nest in her dad’s bedroom. By that time the quick action platelets in her blood had stopped the bleeding, but her leg was hurt, her wing was broken and hung limp, and she could just barley stop herself from laying down and crying. She ran up the spiral ramp and hugged her sling. “Hooman daddeh pwease come home. Mummah fwuffie daddeh, pwease sabe babbeh Stweak.” “Stoopi’ mawe, stahp wunnin’ an’ gib smawty bestes’ feews, an’ babbehs. NAO!” She turned and faced the Smarty. “Weabe Stweak awone, ow daddeh goin’ to come home an’ gib ‘ou wowstes’ huwties, an’ anyway fwuffy nu can hab babbehs yet, am to wittwe.” The smarty considered, “Smawty am nu scawedy of dummeh daddeh, an’ untiw can gib smawty babbehs, can be smawties effie toy.” If there was any color in Streak’s face, it would have drained. The smarty approached, she jumped onto her dad’s bed, then back onto the ramp. She ran into the living room. The smarty raced after her and tackled her, “Nu mobe dummeh mawe. ‘ou goin’ to gib smawty bestes’ feews an’ babbehs.” The rape began, and it was only five o’clock one hour until her dad would be home.
Chapter 9: The Fallen Angel
Eric had had a tough day. The press release of Hasbio’s future plans had been successful, but had delayed him, ‘Streak will be fine for another half hour.’ He stopped at the bar, grabbed a non-alcoholic drink in a to-go cup, to the amusement of the local fago… biker gang, and talked with Noah. News was old, life peaceful, and Eric happy. Noah complained of some pot-smokers that lived below him, but he could live with it, hopefully they would not burn the apartment building down. The place Eric found Streak was currently occupied by a poopie mare and her urine stallion raising their one surviving baby. He left them alone as the bar would throw away their leftover pretzels, peanuts, and other bar-food, and most of the time it landed on the ground. The bar closed early that day and Eric and Noah walked back to Noah’s apartment.
It was now six o clock when Eric waved bye to Noah and walked home. As he approached the house, he decided to go through the back yard. He turned towards the gate, inspecting clusters of flowers and ripping up the occasional weed, and entered the yard. He smelled it first, fluffy poop, he raced around expecting to find Streak hiding from a pile of diarrhea but instead saw the carnage of the battle. He raced inside and heard it, the absolute worst thing a fluffy owner could hear, “Gud feews, gud feews, smawty gonna hab gud feews soon.” It was six thirty. Let’s go back an hour and a half.
Streak had just been tackled by the smarty and he had said, ““Nu mobe dummeh mawe. ‘ou goin’ to gib smawty bestes’ feews an’ babbehs.” He had mounted her squeezing her sides and began hurting her broken wing. She screamed at the pain of her wounded wing being foced to support weight. The smarty re-adjusted his grip, and then without warning, plunged into Streak. The first thrust ripped into Streak, her body being forced apart as the Smarty forced himself in, she screamed, “SCREEEEEE! Fwuffy’s babbeh pwace has wowstest huwties. Huuu huuuuu… Scweeeeeeee!” “Shut up pwetty munsta mawe. Youw stoopi’ yeww am gibin’ smawty’s heaw-pwacies huwties.” “Hu huhu nu… nu am munstaw…” “Wah, eff, di’ eff, mawe fweind, eff-eff-eff, say?” “Stweak, hu, said, hu, nu, hu, am munsta, hu-hu, am… am. Stweak am DADDAH’S PWETTY AWICOWN.” She pushed upwards and threw the smarty off. As he was forcefully removed from Streak, she gave a yell of pain, but adrenalin flowed into her once again. She was hurt, but that didn’t matter the spun around and was met with furious smarty. “Mawe am wucky that she pwetty, ow smawty wouwd gib foweba sweepies!”
They began to fight their horns clashing the smarty charging Streak and always Streak would side step three steps to avoid any attempt the Smarty made to hit her. She was half his size, but she could still battle this asshole. Her leg began hurting again, she needed to end this. She charged the smarty and anticipated his side step. However, she anticipated the direction of the smarty wrong. He went left when she expected him to go right. He spun and slammed into her side. She spun out on the wood floor, she recovered and raced towards him again. This time, she anticipated correctly, but the smarty had finally learned and met her horn with his. All that time flying and running was finally paying off and she was able to hold him in place, “Pwetty mawe am stwong, smawty wike dat. Goin’ to make many stwong babbehs.” Streak herd a soft ‘crick’ sound. Then another crick, and then a crack. She took a step back, crossed her eyes, and saw that it was the Smarty’s horn, not hers, that was cracking. She gritted her teeth and stepped forward again. The smarty whined and started to feel his horn painfully begin to shatter.
There came a great splintering noise combined with a giant solid glass jug sound ensued. The Smarty’s horn cracked, he reeled back screaming in pain and anger. He raced forward and bit down on her horn. It did nothing, but Streak took the opportunity to go limp. The Smarty dropped her and sniffed her, “did smawty make fwuffie go sweepies?” He walked around thinking about all the good feels he was going to have, when Streak jumped up and bit down on his wing. The smarty screamed, buzzed it, and threw her off blood seeping from it, he began running in circles, which only gave Streak the opportunity to bite down on the other wing.
The smarty ran in circles, then in figure eights, and then he just began jumping around. Streak ran to her nest then jumped on her dad’s bed and tucked every inch of herself under one of Eric’s pillows. The smarty finally stopped screaming and crying, he followed her sent and jumped onto Eric’s bed. He sniffed around, but her sent was everywhere. He began pulling off the pillows under the last one, he found Streak; she pounced. The two struggled rolling, kicking biting, and even more rolling, until they fell off the bed and onto the carpet. Streak landed on to of the smarty and raced off spinning around her horn bared, she was met with a pillow, it hit her in the face. Her ears began ringing as the smarty spat the pillow out of his mouth, grabbed her, smacked her broken wing, and pinned her to the ground facing upwards. The Smarty put his hooves on either side of her ribcage. She tried kicking him, but that was met with bites each of her legs. They fell limp from pain, but not damaged.
Once more the smarty began to breed her. Streak screamed and cried, but the Smarty was consumed by the pleasure of raping the little filly. Finally, he unloaded and sighed happily, “Nao ‘ou bewong to smawty. Nao ‘ou am smawty’s speshuw fwend. Soon ‘ou wiww gib fwuffy wots of pwetty babbehs. Smawty nu can wait fo’ youw daddeh to come home an’ gib smawty aww dah wub an’ huggies. Soon smawty’s tummy wiww be fuww of sketties.” It was six o clock now, Streak lay on the floor, she had rolled onto her stomach. She stretched her broken wing as much as she could. She cried, but tried to keep herself quiet. Water, she needed water. She tried to stand her back legs finally starting to respond again. “Whewe am ‘ou goin’ speshuw fwend?” Streak stumbled forward her vagina in an almost prolapsed state, “wawa Stweak nee’ wawa. Wawa an’ nummies. Hab tummy owwies, mouff dwy, nee’ wawa.” She collapsed and just cried.
The smarty looked at her, this fluffy is what killed his herd of fifteen toughies? but he did need her for her babies. He picked her up by the scruff of the neck and lifted her onto her back. She was heavy but worth it, her baby place had certainly proven that she was worth it. Streak was brought to the water and food dispenser. She ate, drank, and fell asleep on the hardwood. 6:15 Eric was walking Noah home, and Streak was in another round of the rape. The final round was different, this time was different the smarty had missed and slammed into Streak’s anus instead. Her was screaming and screaming until her voice gave out. Just before the Smarty finished, he rammed once more into her vagina. “Gud feews Gud feews, gud feews gonna gonna onna, aahhhhhhh.” “What the fuck are you doing to Streak?” The air temperature plummeted.
Any bravado and pride the Smarty had was vanquished in an instant. “Get off her and sit in the corner. Wait for me to come back.” Eric’s voice was clam and filled with malice. His eyes were a deep rage filled red. They calmed as he picked up Streak, calmed her, shot a hate filled glance at the smarty, and cleaned up Streak. He set the broken wing, cleaned both of her holes, undid the prolapses and put her into her nest, placing her head on her pillow, and used her baby sling as a blanket. He softly closed the door; he turned to where he had left the smarty. It was gone. Eric had locked the fluffy door and all other exits were blocked; Smarty was hiding.
Eric had already checked over his bedroom, but he did another quiet sweep. He walked through the living room and looked for any signs of the Smarty. The blood was from Streak and had dried he found evidence of the Smarty’s horn cracking. There came a clatter from the kitchen. Eric entered and stared. The smarty had defiantly been there, fluffy poop was all over the floor and all the cabinets were open. Eric’s eyes pointed towards the pantry; the door was ajar. There came a ‘phbtbtbtbt’ sound and the smell of feces. Eric ripped the pantry door open, it was a walk in. The smarty had re-gained his brashness and bravado. In the fifteen minutes that Eric had been taking care of Streak, the Smarty had ripped apart the first shelf, the floor was full of cans and jars that the Smarty could not get open.
The first shelf has full of oats and other boxes, there was a pile of feces on top of his bag of cinnamon sticks. The Smarty’s ass was pointed towards Eric and was covered with poop. The Smarty was currently eating a bag Guavas, Eric’s favorite fruit. The door opened and creaked. The smarty turned around and saw Eric. Their eyes locked. The smarty took a defiant stance, puffed up his cheeks, and using his most ‘commanding’ voice, it just sounded jealous toddler, “Dis wand am smawty’s house nao ‘ou stoopi’ poopie hooman. Gib smawty aww dah gud nummies, aww dah wub an’ huggies, an’ aww dah gud effiee mawes an’ babbehs fo’ new hewd. Awso gib smawty back smawty’s pwetty mawe Stweak. Smawty goin’ to hab many gud feews wiff hew an’ many babbehs. Nao gib smawty sketties, dah bestes’ sketties, an’ bestes’ toys an’ fwuffie tee-bee an’ bestes’ fwuffie bed.” He sat up in a demanding ‘I am the king’ way.
“I can’t believe you.” The smarty’s swelled his cheeks to the max and stared at Eric with an almost stupid amount of courage, which weakly disguised the terror that was invoked just by Eric’s voice. “You bring fifteen overly horny stallions into my backyard, you try to gang rape my filly, you don’t lift a hoof when Streak proceeded to kill them all, you break her wing, bite her horn, hurt her legs, and then rape her multiple times, to the point where both her vagina and anus went into prolapse. And you know the evilest thing you’ve probably, all be it indirectly, done. Her body may be small, but it can produce babies, and when she gives birth, if the babies make it that far, it will tear her apart.” Eric had been getting closer and closer to the now whimpering Smarty. “And now that you know, what do you think you deserve.” The smarty was still in a defiant stance. Eric squatted down so their faces were only two feet apart.
The smart took three steps back and once more went into the classic, ‘I am smarty fear me’ stance. “S-Smawty de-de-de,” he gulped and shook his head, once more the asinine brashness of the typical smarty returned in full force, he stared Eric in eyes, one blood red and one ocean blue. The smarty shook his head, stared directly at Eric’s fore-head, and finally found his voice. “Smawty is BESTEST fwuffy. An’ since smawty am dah bestes’ fwuffy, smawty desewbes anythin’ smawty wants.” He stood up straight in almost dared Eric to contradict him. ‘What a vain shirt-rat. He’s a mess of bad colors, but calm Eric calm. Let’s play this asshole,’ both of Eric’s eyes were swirling red then blue then back again as both minds began to play the smarty.
Eric/Cire took a step back, as if they were scared of the Smarty’s sudden change in attitude, this reaction fueled the Smarty’s Bravado. He held his head up smiling and started making demands. “Smawty am bestes’ fwuffie. Bettah den ‘ou Stweak. Su smawty desewbe bettah nummies, an’ wawa, an’ nesties, an’ sketties, an’ smawty wants to smeww pwettiah den stoopi’ dummeh mawe. Smawty wan’ pwettiah name den stoopi’ Stweak. An’ smawty wants bestes’ sketties wite nao ‘ou dummeh stoopi’ poopies hooman, ow smawty wiww gib ‘ou wowstes’ sowwy hoobes an’ biggest sowwy poopies.”
Eric and Cire resisted strangling the asshole. “Okay mister smarty, follow us, and you will get your name and spaghetti.” They left the Smarty in front of the television, showing a horror movie, “Oh and Smarty,” it looked over, “your new pretty name is Gokan.” “Smawty wike nu namesies. Nao’ gib sketties, ow Gokan wiww make poopies on soft sittin’ pwace an’ make dummeh hooman num it.” Eric and Cire began laughing inside their head, (Cire) “Gokan?” (Eric) “Japanese for Rapist.” “Oh my gosh… YES!” Cire gathered the fifteen dead fluffies, and set up the meat grinder. He skinned, de-hoofed, and cut off their testicles. The ground fluffy meat was immediately dropped into a pot of boiling water. The meat cooked into pasta like-strands Eric took the organs and ground them into a mash, he dropped in the testicles and got a plastic tray out. When the ‘sketties’ were done Eric piled them high and added the mash, thirty fluffy testicles that looked like meatballs, and finally topped the pile with testosterone supplements.
The Smarty was watching the typical sex-scene that all horror movies had. It had taken an hour and forty-five minutes to cook the pile of spaghetti and by that time the movie was at its final jump scare. The man and woman began moaning loud, Eric always muted this part, and suddenly a Reaper’s scythe stabbed the two in the back revealing that the killer was the stereotypical final-girl taking up the killer’s role. Eric called the Smarty over, and led him to the basement where he set the tray down and left. The smarty dived into the pile, Eric raced up the stairs and turned, “Hey Gokan,” the smarty looked up, “Your name, it means Rapist,” the smarty gave him a confused look, “your name literally means a fluffy that gives bad effies, like what you did to my Streak.” The Smarty raced up the stairs only to be met with a foot. The smarty tumbled down the stairs, “Huuu huuu wai gib owwies to smawty, smawty and gud fwuffy chirp-chirp,” “And one other thing Smarty. Those sketties are made of the fifteen dead fluffies that you left to die in the backyard.” As Eric closed the door, he heard the smarty begin to cry and scream. His laughter at the Smarty’s panic was cut short by the sound of crying coming from the bedroom, “Oh heck Streak.”
Streak had woken up and was crying. Eric rushed in to find her trying to walk, “Streak no, wait.” He gently picked her up, and for the first time since that mourning, he held her straight up and down. Instantly, a blob of white fluid flowed out. Eric immediately held her sideways and went to the bathroom. He held her over the toilet and gently squeezed her lower body, a stream of fluffy semen flowed out, dripped, and stopped. “Daddeh?” “Yes Streak?” “Stweak’s babbeh pwace has owwies inside babbeh pwace.” Eric’s face turned pale. He placed Streak on a mat on the kitchen table. He then went into the garage and found the device he was looking for. A few years ago, Rose, the mother of Gen. 2, had swallowed a stone and was unable to throw it up. Eric bought a small camera to be able to see the stone.
Eric cleaned the camera off, and after positioning Streak gently. He slipped the camera in, simultaneously praying that what he knew was true wasn’t true. The camara slipped in. Fortunately, Streak had fallen asleep. Eric saw what he knew was true. Streak’s cervix was destroyed. This meant that if not fixed, any babies she had would miscarry. Also, if Eric did heal it, the babies would just destroy it again and possibly kill her. Eric went into a loop of contemplation, eventually the ethnical part of the question came into the problem. After some internal debate, Eric wanted to leave it as it was until the babies miscarried, and Cire wanted to heal the cervix so the babies lived. Finally, they came to a stand off and decided to let Streak decide. Eric and Cire carefully placed Streak in her nest with her rear slightly higher than her head. He cleaned the house, fixed the gate, and cleaned the yard. By the time the cleaning was done the sun was setting. Tomarrow was Saturday, he went to bed.
Streak awoke feeling shudders run in and out of her baby place. She stood up and immediately felt fluid beginning to flow out. She dropped into the downward dog position, the fluid flowed back inside, “Daddeh pwease wakies. Stweak’s babbeh pwace nu feew pwetty an’ stwange wawa am comin’ out. Daddeh? huff-inhale DADDEH!” Eric shot up and wheeled around. Streak was in the downward dog position and, once Eric was awake, she repeated herself. Eric stared, he sighed, “Okay Streak, your… baby place has been broken.” Streak stared dumbfounded, “Does that mean that Stweak nu can hab babbehs?” “No, it is possible, but it would require an operation that would put you at risk. I don’t know if your egg cells have been fertilized yet, but if they have then a dilemma arises. You can either keep your possible babies and possibly die during their birth, or you can wait for the babies to miscarry. I don’t really have a third…” “Babbehs,” Streak cut him off, “Eben if keepin’ babbehs sends Stweak to foweba sweepies, Stweak wants to sabe babbehs.”
Eric’s jaw dropped, “You might die.” “Nu cawe.” “If you live you could have more.” “Stweak nu cawe.” Eric smiled, “Wow even though they’ll be rape babies, you want to keep them. You really are a mother, a good mother.” Eric sighed and picked up Streak. He placed her on the table and had to help her eat. After that he left her with her rear in the air. He went into the garage, and found many of the tools he would need. But he was missing one, one that was in the basement. He prepared himself for a mess, no doubt the smarty had made a mess of the basement. The smell hit Eric like a wall, the small light bulb that he had left on illuminated clean stairs and a half-eaten pile of 100% fluffy made sketties.
Eric closed the door and quietly walked down the stairs. The smarty was in a corner sleeping, in one other corner there was a pile of feces. Eric would torture the shit ball later. He opened a cabinet and began going through tools, jars, diagram, finally he found it. It was a small syringe that had been capped by and air-tight capping agent. Eric climbed up the stairs and glanced towards where the Smarty was sleeping, it wasn’t there, “oh heck.” Eric raced up the stairs and into the kitchen, Streak was asleep hugging her tummy in the classic soon-mama position, well her rear was in the air. Eric looked around, the exits were locked and Streak took priority.
Eric took a up a syringe and injected her with a sleeping drug. Using a different syringe and injected a muscle relaxant into her birth-canal. Then he took some reverse-tongs and pulled the folds apart. The wrecked cervix was now in full view. Quickly, carefully, and efficiently Eric moved the parts back in place. Using small needles with glow-in-the-dark heads, Eric held the flesh in place. He then unsealed the air tight syringe, and injected the cervix in a five-pointed star pattern, after five minutes he pulled out the needles making certain that he got all of them. The flesh stayed in the circular donut shape. He tucked her back in her nest to finish healing. Now for the Smarty.
Chapter 10: No One is Above Consequences.
Eric searched the entire bedroom, the Gokan was at least smart enough to not hide here. The master bathroom which connected to Eric’s bedroom was also empty. Eric closed the door on the rooms. Only the kitchen, living room, garage, and basement were left. Eric double checked the doors, they were closed, he checked the windows, they were closed and locked, the kitchen and the pantry were free of fluffy presence. The garage had been close, but Eric still looked, Gokan was not there either. Eric scanned the basement, nothing. The living room was the last place. Eric smiled and turned on the T.V. to the fluffy channel. Eric turned up the volume, the current show was babbehs. The T.V. announcer came on in a fluffy voice, “An’ nao it am time fo’ dah babbehs to hab theiw miwkies. Wook at dah babbehs dwink fwom theiw mummah’s miwkie pwaces.” The living room was soundproofed, so Streak would not be disturbed. Eric watched the couch.
The small curtain that covered the empty space between the couch and the floor moved. The smarty’s horn pulled the curtain up, and the pervert that he was stared at the babies suckling, the camera not even trying to hide the mare’s breasts. Eric stepped slowly around, if Gokan had not been so focused on the breasts, he would have seen Eric approaching in his periphery vision.
Gokan had stayed the entire night in the basement crying, but he had maintained some sense. When he needed to go, he went in the corner, when he got to hungry to ignore, he ate. When the poopie human had told him that his bestest pweaty namesies was actually the worstest name, he had screamed and tried running up the stairs, Eric had slammed the door in his face and thusly he was thrown into the sketti pile. It took all dark time, but Gokan had managed to clean himself off. He had then mourned the loss of his herd by pooping on their skettied bodies, and calling them stupid, poopie, fluffies for allowing them selves to first be beaten by a ‘wittwe babbeh fwuffy,’ then for allowing themselves to be skettied. After that though, he licked off the poop and began apologizing to the pile of corpses, and hugged the pile thinking that it would help.
Finally, he had went to sleep in a corner. The monster human had come down and started looking for something, Gokan had taken that opportunity to sneak up the stairs and get into the living room. He had looked around and found the hollow part behind the curtain and under the couch. He had heard the clattering in the kitchen, then the human moving in and around. He heard doors close and then footsteps next to him. After a while a new sound came, “An’ nao it am time fo’ dah babbehs to hab theiw miwkies. Wook at dah babbehs dwink fwom theiw mummah’s miwkie pwaces.” The smarty’s lust to see pretty mares forced him to use his horn to lift the curtain. After ten seconds Gokan found that Eric was holding him in the air, by the cracked horn.
Gokan screamed as Eric whipped him out from underneath the couch, a trail of ‘scawdy poopies’ following close behind. Eric stared the creature in the eyes, all the rage, hatred, disgust, and loathing returning in a red storm that sent his eyes from ocean to blood. The returning emotions were not alone Cire had been thinking of ways to make the asshole suffer and now he was summoned.
Eric and Cire dangled the smarty by the horn and began walking to the basement. All the while, the Gokan was kicking, screaming, and making threats, and when that didn’t work, he began peeing and pooping. Eric grabbed a stopped and shoved it down Gokan’s urethra sealing the urine inside. Then he quickly braided Gokan’s tail and shoved it deep into his anus sealing it shut as well. Eric grabbed some cooking twine and tightly tied it around Gokan’s horn; he tied it so tight, it made another cracking sound. Eric and Crie proceeded to drag the smarty by the damaged horn down the stairs. Gokan exhausting his threats began begging for mercy and apologizing and crying out to be spared. “Pwease nu gib fwuffy owwies any mowe. Pointy has biggest owwies, pwease hewp Gokan, hewp bestes’ pointy an’ bestes’ wingies. Pwease be new daddeh. New daddeh hewped Gokan’s speshuw fwend, why new daddeh nu hewp Gokan.” Eric lifted Gokan to meet the fluffy’s colorless eyes. The fluffy stared terrified at the swirling ocean and blood that would seemingly never stop and just become purple. They spoke Eric’s usually calming voice mixing with Cire’s manipulative voice together became almost paralyzing.
“Do you honestly believe that, rapist? Do you really think that after what you have done to Streak, that I, her owner, would ever want to love the fluffy responsible for raping her, calling her dumb and stupid, you pooped all over my living room, and you destroyed my pantry; after all that you think you deserve help, that you are above consequences? You are a horrible fluffy all you deserve is pain and misery, and you are certainly not above consequences.” They released the rope tied to Gokan’s horn and immediately grabbed it again. The horn let out another cracking sound. As soon as the crack sounded, Gokan began screaming.
“SHUT UP!” Gokan did his ears ringing from the command, “Uh hu-hu, wai daddeh gib Gokan heaw-pwacies huwties? peep Gokan am gud fwuffie. chirp.” “Pathetic. You’re chirping like a baby. I don’t understand you, shit-rat.” The fluffy began silently crying his ears still ringing. They stared at Gokan and forced his eyes open. Gokan tried to squirm away or at least get his eyes closed, but nothing was working. There came another crack from Gokan’s horn, Eric saw that the horn it self would break off soon. Instead, he and Cire grabbed Gokan by the bitten wings, ScreEEEEE! Gokan’s wingies has worstest hurties!” “Your wings are worthless. Before you hurt her wings, Streak could actually fly. If you were to jump of a one-meter-high table, you would die. She would be able to glide down, but now thanks to you, she won’t be able to. So, if your wings are useless, why do you need them?”
They crushed Gokan’s wings into a mass of splintering bones, broken bloody feathers, torn skin, and gored muscles. They walked down the stairs making certain to bounce up and down on each step. They proceeded to drop Gokan into the pile of ‘skettis’ he began squirming, “Nuuu. Gokan nu wan’ to num any mowe of hewd sketties.” “You should,” they turned to the squirming smarty, “it will be the last thing you eat for a while.” The smarty began eating, ‘good now we won’t have to force feed his raping ass.’ They opened filing cabinet ‘X,’ reached inside, and found the latch. Gokan had been eating when they grabbed him by the tail and lifted him into the air. Gokan had managed to eat the rest of the sketti and had been licking the plate clean, good.
They slammed Gokan onto the worktable. The sudden movement caused the fluffy corpses on the hooks, which were attached to the wall. Suddenly smarty number one, the one that killed six fluffies and all but one of their babies, fell off his hook. His body was dry and crackled on impact. His body was torn apart, Eric had dumped him in an alley to be eaten by rats. Gokan looked up at where he had come from and screamed. Fluffies lined the wall, their dead bodies all dry from the basements dry air. While Gokan was running all over the work table, not daring to jump to what he knew would be his death, staring at the nineteen dried out fluffy corpses, and screaming and begging, Eric pulled the collection tray out of the dehumidifier. It was half way full, Eric went and dumped the tray into the sink.
When he returned, Gokan was sitting and crying, his braided tail now no longer shoved inside him, but still stained a putrid brown and radiating a foul smell. Gokan had used a hook that was on the wall, but not in use, to pull his tail out of his anus. Gokan was on the opposite side of the table, the hook and a steaming pile of feces sat on the other. When he saw Eric return, Gokan began crying harder, pushing the massive pile of poop out had ‘ripped him a new one,’ and now what would happen. He began sucking on his hoof and watched Eric. Eric moved across and swept the pile of feces into a bucket with sand in the bottom. He wiped the table down washing the trail of feces until he reached the fluffy.
Gokan stared at Eric and whimpered, the fluff around his hoof soaking wet form all the suckling. “Stand up and show me what you have done.” Once more Gokan felt the paralyzing force of their voice pierce his pride, but this time it was harder. Eric watched as Gokan resisted at first, ‘good the testosterone is working.’ Eric lifted the monster’s tail and saw his rectum had prolapsed. Eric smiled and left it. Eventually it would resolve itself, but until that, Gokan would be in pain. Cire took over and reached into a drawer, he pulled out a rubber cylinder. He pushed Gokan flat onto the table, Gokan proceded to suck his hoof again, he knew something was about to happen. His legs were perpendicular to his spine the hoof ripped out of his mouth.
“Now hold still Gokan, your poopie-place is all messed up. Let me ‘help’ you,” they proceeded to forcefully insert the cylinder in and out, over and over until Gokan’s anus began to bleed. All the while, Gokan screamed and cried flailing his hooves and buzzing his wings uselessly. When the anus began to bleed, they plunged the cylinder deep inside holding onto its end by his finger-tips, and then pushed it inside Gokan. Gokan’s voice broke and then gave out. Silently, he screamed as they streaked and slightly squeezing his lower body, inducing a bowl movement. After five minutes of straining, huffing and puffing, silently screaming, crying, beating his hooves on the table, and buzzing his wings, which only caused him more pain, Gokan finally pushed the cylinder out. “Well Gokan, did you like that?” Weakly and after some time, Goakan was able to reply. “Nuu Gokan nu wike. Poopie pwace habs biggest huwties, pweese nee huggies, nee huggies fwom Gokan spechew fweind Stweak.” “Well Gokan, what you just felt, is what Streak felt when you gave her bad special huggies.”
Gokan’s tried to stand up, but his back legs and rectum were in so much pain from the ordeal that he fell on the table again. He tried again this time buzzing his wings, it took him ten seconds to stop screaming and crying again, “Gokan’s wingies hab wowstest huwties, huu huu cheep-peep huu.” “Chirping again you big baby?” “Nu nu am babbeh, wingies hab so many owies, nee huggies chirp-peep huuu.” “Well then stop trying to use your wings, they’re useless. Unlike Streak, your wings are useless, but here let me help you.” They reached into another drawer and pulled out a bottle. There was a bright orange warning label on the bottle, “WARNING! Keep out of reach of children. For serious cleaning of open wounds. WARNING! The contents of this bottle will sting. NOT FOR CHILDREN!”
Eric opened the bottle, there were three seals, and a safety cap, it smelled awful. Eric grabbed a Q-tip and dipped it in the bottle. He held down the Gokan’s left wing, and began rubbing the Q-tip over the crushed and mangled wing. Gokan screamed, he screamed, begged, cried, and screamed until his voice died. They did the same with his other wings, he could only small his legs up and down and silently scream. Once the wings were disinfected, they grabbed each wing and scrunched/crushed his wings into lumps of bones and flesh. They put the bottle away and pulled out a bottle of Hasbio instant heal gel. They rubbed the gel thickly onto their hands and rubbed it into the lumps of flesh that once might have been wings. Once that was done, they shaved the fluff around the wings and slashed them open. Gokan tried to scream, but even when the disinfectant was once more applied, his voice was still broken.
Torment entry #1 Subject-Gokan, “The subjects wings have now been fused into blobs of flesh and have been stuck to his skin. He will no longer be able to buzz them, and they will instead only give him pain if he tries to use them. His anus is in a prolapsed state and will remain that way for a while. His urethra is currently blocked up preventing urination, so far, he has not voiced discomfort. Tormenter name(s), Eric Antivi and Cire Antivi. Hasbio name, FluffyFather.
Chapter 11: There is Good and There is Bad
Eric and Cire climbed the stairs from the basement, ‘That was oddly satisfying,’ Eric started the internal conversation, ‘I know. Was it relaxing to hear his screams?’ ‘In a creepy way, yes. I enjoyed it, but isn’t this revenge?’ ‘Oh, it is. Creatures like him, they don’t deserve anything but pain, let’s just say that we are helping him off to hell.’ ‘Cire, do you know how much of the fluffy is human?’ ‘No, how much and who donated?’ ‘Currently, they are 5% human and… I… well, we donated. Our DNA was the foundation for Generation 1.’ ‘You blame yourself for their behavior?’ ‘No. But I can’t just shake the feeling that this is… well… a human that has let themselves go. Herd instinct, choosing choice mates, determining who is better based on color or type, this behavior comes from us. Their only 5% human physically, but mentally they are 90% percent us.’ ‘Well that is disturbing… wait what’s that sound?’
They were walking towards the bedroom, and they heard the soft sound of crying, “Oh no… don’t.” Eric got cut off by the most distressing sound a fluffy could make. “Huuu am wowstest fwuffy, wan die.” Eric rushed into the room; Streak was awake and soaking her nest with tears, not only was it soaked with tears, but it was soaked with urine and a plie of feces lay next to her. It was a good thing that he had set her on the hardwood floor. Eric stared; when she saw him, she went quiet as if expecting something bad to happen. Eric worked quickly and silently. First, he grabbed a towel and gently picked her up. He set her aside and picked up the nest. He dumped the solid matter into the litter box, it turned on and cleaned, and then dropped the nest into the washer. Streak’s baby sling had been soaked with tears, and fortunately, not urine. He dropped it into a bucket of detergent and water. A few minutes of swirling and rubbing later, he rinsed the sling out, the delicate fluff laying flat. He hung it up and raced back to Streak. As he walked in, Streak suddenly began to urinate uncontrollably, “Nu! Bad pee-pees! Stap nu wan make bad pee-pees.” Eric’s mind raced and clicked as he suddenly realized, he knew what was happening.
When he had set her cervix back, the muscle relaxant must have seeped into her bladder, and now she could no longer control the flow, “Don’t worry Streak. It’s not your fault.” He quickly picked her up and held her over the litterbox, “Okay Streak, I want you to poop and pee as much as possible.” Three minutes later she stopped pooping and she was only dripping urine. The box whirred and cycled coating the feces with sand and shifting them to a storage box, the urine-soaked litter clumped together also got dropped into the box. Quickly Eric walked over and placed her in the bathtub. He rinsed and dropped the urine-soaked towel into the washing machine. When he entered the bathroom, she was still crying, but she had no tears left.
“Streak. What’s wrong.” “Stweak am sowwy fo maken bad pee-peeies and poopies, nu desewve tu smew pwetty.” Eric sighed out for five seconds straight, “Streak it’s not your fault that you made a… mess of your bed.” “Buh it am Stweak’s fauwt that Stweak nao has tummy babbehs.” “Streak… it’s not your fault. You were raped, uh given bad special-huggies. It’s not your fault that you have babies, but you wanted them remember. If you’ve changed your mind…” Streak stared at Eric and briefly considered. “Stweak wemembew. Sowwy fo maken ‘ou wowwy daddeh.” She immediately perked up the ‘wan die’ loop successfully broken, “Wub ‘ou daddeh.”
Eric bathed her, but halfway through she did relax to much and void her bowels, but by immediately pulling her out and draining the tub, he was able to get her completely clean. He grabbed an adult fluffy diaper from the basement. “Hey Streak until you are fully healed, you’ll have to wear this. Okay?” “Otay daddah. Wiww wawe diapah untiw no mow bad pee-peeies.” Eric once more laid her to rest, and was considering going back to them, basement, but he didn’t. Instead he showered and did the laundry. After that, he fell asleep.
Meanwhile in the basement, Gokan finally was able to move his legs. “Hu hu chirp poopie pwace no feew pweaty.” He moved across to a bowel of wet kibble; well, it was actually water-logged. He first drank it down and then ate. He moved to a pan of sand labeled ‘litter box’ and pooped in it. However, try as he might, the rubber cork in his urethra would not move, and instead, his no-nos and bladder began to swell with urine. “Wai no-no stick no wan tu mak gud pee-pees. Wai gib Gokan huwties, huu huu am hu gud fwuffy,” he stood in the litter box, went into downward dog position, and pushed hard, the cork moved slightly. Gokan screamed, the rubber cork was a special device, on the top, there is a small nub that when pulled, would retract rubber barbs. The rubber barbs were the things preventing the cork from popping out. Gokan screamed and cried as he pushed and strained to pee. Eventually, he gave up and settled to collapse in the box, just in case he began to pee. After three hours of pain, he fell asleep, but even in sleep his pain followed him and manifested as nightmares.
Eric woke up in the middle of the night, the soft snores of Streak, warmth of his blanket, and the bed’s welcoming embrace beckoning him to sleep once more, but something kept him awake. A cold taste, he stayed awake staring at the ceiling. He did not resist sleeps call, but eventually it faded. “4:00 AM,” he had never woken up that early before. Finally, he got up as there was no point in trying to sleep again. He went into the kitchen and turned on the lights, “ugh mornings.” He picked up his phone off the kitchen counter and clicked it on. He opened the mobile camera app and saw Gokan. He was sleeping in the litterbox, his rear caked with dried fesses and sand. Eric switched to the implant app and looked in on Streak’s current dream. She was flying through the air with several other fluffies some were pegasus, and some were alicorns. A few of them even had babies on their backs. Suddenly Streak landed and ran up to a tree and hugged a group of babies. Eric smiled and switched to Gokan’s dreams. Gokan was in a nightmare. ‘Good,’ Cire thought, ‘the rapist deserves this.’ They clicked off the app and started to make coffee.
Gokan moved around turning over in the sand box. His dream was terrifying. In his dream, he was being held down by Eric. Eric’s face had been distorted into a horrifying face. His teeth were fangs sharp and dripping in a vicious grin. His eyes were swirling pools of black and white. They suddenly fixated into red and blue. Dream Eric held up a battered and injured Streak. The white and black fluffy was crying, her tummy ballooning. Her tears turned onto streams and flowed down flooding the floor. She opened her eyes and the streams turned into jets and her howls filled Gokan’s ears. “’ou a bad fwuffy gab Stweak wostest speciaw huggies. ‘ou a bad poopie munstah fwuffy. Onwy deseve wostest huwties. Nao take fowebeh sweepies wawa.” Gokan looked down and saw the water rising in tendrils. The tendrils grabbed him and began pulling him down, the water swirling into a whirl-pool the tendrils themselves were coming from the center a mouth was there, it was a fluffy’s face and mouth that opened to speak. “‘ou am bad fwuffie, onwy gud fow gud feews. Nao gib wawa fwuffy bestes’ feews an’ many babbehs.” The mouth opened and a long tendril burst upwards. It curled around him, stroaked him. played with his no-no’s and pulled down, teasing his rear. “NUUU NU AM MAWE. NU PWEES! PWEES STAHP! NU WAN NU WAN NU WAN AHHHHH!” The tendril jammed into him. “SCREEEEEE!” Gokan screamed as the cold clammy thing jammed in and out of him. The tendrils pulled him downwards closer to the face.
The tendrils pulled him so his rear was upwards. The face from which the tendrils emerged, was now looking happy, to happy. Suddenly, the tendril that was raping him unleashed a jet of water. It burst inside him. Gokan vomited up the water, but it was still too much. He began to cry water and the water poured from his ears. His no-no stick was swelling. He began screaming and choking on the water. Suddenly, his no-no stick was unclogged and a cascade of water poured out. The tendrils abruptly pulled him into the mouth. The last bit of light began to close as the mouth closed. Streak’s voice screamed down at him, “Stweak towd 'ou that daddeh wouwd gib ‘ou wowstes’ huwties. Nao dwown in youw cwimes 'ou poopies, ugwy, munsta fwuffie.” Gokan awoke screaming, his no-no stick was pouring forth urine, the rubber cork had been forced out ripping his urethra apart, almost like a kidney stone.
After he realized that he could pee again, and the pain had dissipated, he began trotting around happily with a joyful attitude. He walked over to his food bowel and began eating. It was still almost soaked kibble dosed up with a testosterone supplements, almost an overdose. He went back to the litter box, peed and turned around. He forced his feces through the caked wad of his fluff, and whimpered when a clump of his fluff was forcefully ripped off his ass with the poop. He whined, but did scraped his ass on the side of the litter box. The testosterone supplements began working, and he became tense; he wanted to run around, but the work table was to little and to high for him to jump off of. He began trotting in circles, then he remembered his wings and buzzed them.
Eric heard the muffled screams of Gokan coming from below the kitchen floor, ‘must have tried to use his wings’ sip “moron.” Gokan was running all over the table, it had been moved and was now in the middle of the room. He knocked off the litter box, it hit the floor with a clatter. Gokan froze, it was a loud noise. A metal tray filled with soaked sand and poop smacking into a concrete floor. Eric jumped and raced into his bedroom to see what if Streak was alright. She stood up, streached, yawned, and sleepily looked at Eric, “Daddeh what wa’ dat noiseie?” “Probably the monster downstairs. I’ll check it out, but don’t worry it can’t get out.”
Gokan heard the footsteps coming down the wooden stairs, the false wall creaked open. Eric stepped in and slid it almost closed. When he turned around, Gokan was hiding his face in the food bowl, noisily eating and drinking the contents. ‘If Gokan nu see munstaw, ten munstaw nu dew.’ Eric stood directly in front of the bowl, “I’m here Gokan,” Eric had delt with fluffies enough to know what Gokan was thinking, “what happened.” Gokan looked up slowly and met the swirling blue and red eyes. “He-hewwo daddeh, gud bwight times. Loud-gulp uhhhhh… Gokan hab eaten aw da nummie kibbew an wawa. Tank ‘ou fo dem.”
Eric looked at the floored litter box and back at the fluffy, it was not trembling in fear any more, ‘good.’ “Why did you do that?” Eric pointed to the litterbox, “Now you can only make bad-poopies.” “Uhuu pwees daddeh, Gokan nee wittah box fow gud poopies, an nee woom fo wunnin awound. Dummeh tabew am to smaw.” “You want a new place to run because this table is to small? Well I guess you like small things, after all I have a possibly pregnant fluffy that is only half your size to prove that.” Gokan’s face fell into despair, “But,” it immediately lit up again, “I will give you your litterbox back, and let you run around the room, if you give me your horn.” Eric tapped Gokan’s horn causing him to whine.
“Pwees nu wan woos pointy, pwees gib wittah box an woom to wun anyway.” “That’s going to be a no, unless you give your horn, you will never have room to run or make good poopies, and I punish fluffies for bad-poopies.” Gokan whined and hopped front left and back right hooves, to back left to front right hooves. He was thinking, then he began to cry angry tears, “DUMMEH HOOMAN GIB SMAWTY GOKAN BESTEST WOOM AN’ WITTAW BOX OW GET SOWWY POOPIES!” Eric grabbed the horn in his hand and squeezed, “SCREEEEEEEE!! BAD HOOMAN WET GO OB SMAWTY GOKAN’S PWEATTY HOWN NOA!” Eric released the horn, but pinched the tip and used that to force his head onto the table.
His mouth shut Eric stared into the Gokan’s eyes and pulled out two syringes, one was an almost overdoes of testosterone and a caffeine injection. He flipped Gokan over and stabbed the Testosterone into the fluffies belly button, hidden in the fluff just above his sheath, the caffeine went into the creature’s neck. At the first injection, Gokan shat himself and all over the table. At the second injection, he peed all over his chest and stomach soaking himself through. After what was about five seconds, the Gokan began to struggle. Soon, the tip of his horn broke off, and Goakn flipped over and took a ‘I’m in charge’ stance. “Dummeh hooman how dawe 'ou gib owwies tu Smawty Gokan’s pwetty hownsies. Take sorry poopies, he turned around and lifted his tail.
Eric quickly put his pointer, ring, and middle finger together in a triangle shape, and stabbed them into Gokan’s anus. Gokan squealed like a pig, as his anus had fully recovered from the prolapse. Eric thanked his stars that he had decided to put on rubber-gloves. The creature’s back portions swelled with the feces. Gokan began to cry. Eric grabbed a fluffy butt plug and shoved it into Gokan, he screamed. Eric gagged him with one of those disgusting ‘kinky’ ball gags. “You like that don’t you, you disgusting rapist. You must looooove it, oh you don’t. Well, neither did Streak. Now then, do you want to run around?” Gokan nodded, “At the price of your horn?” he nodded again. Eric turned and grabbed a file from another drawer. Eric slammed Gokan into a restrainer and began filing. Gokan’s gagged screams filled the air, as once Eric had filed through the keratin shell of the horn, he hit the small finger like, nerve filled, flesh beneath.
After Gokan soaked his fluff with urine and tears, his legs wiggled up and down, but the restraints kept him in the spread-eagle position. Halfway through the ordeal, Eric stopped to rest his right hand, and switched the file to his left, he was ambidextrous, but still preferred his right hand. By this time Gokan’s mouth was foaming and slobbering severally, snot had poured from his nose, leaving it to harden on his snout. Eric picked up the file and continued. One hour later, the horn was now filed down to his head blood, horn dust, and the flesh and muscle in the horn splattered everywhere. Eric set Gokan down and sets up the litter box again; he also gave him the testosterone, kibble, and water bowl of food.
Eric closed the basement and went to take care of Streak. She had finally woken up fully, and was chomping on the now growth-hormone filled kibble. She looked up at Eric, “Daddeh, why does kibbwe taste funny.” “Well, because you’re well… pregnant at such a small size, I am using a special additive in your kibble to get you… well, bigger. That way when your babies come, you will be all right.” “Oh dat soun gud. Tank ‘ou daddeh.” Streak then gorged on the kibble, “Whoa, whoa, Streak slow down. You’ll choke.”
The day progressed well; Eric began Gokan’s psychological torture by keeping the basement dark at all but two hours of the day. He was given food through auto feeders, but otherwise was alone. The caffeine in the food refused to let him sleep, so he could not sleep. Eric took Streak to work, she would not be left home alone again, until she gave birth. As they headed off to the Hasbio labrotories and offices, Gokan ran around in the pitch black basement, speakers playing scary noises depending on where he was. The ball gag and plug removed, Gokan began crying into the void, “Wai dawk, wew daddeh. Pwees daddeh com bach, Gokan hab biggest scawdies, SCREE!.., wan… wan die… buh nu wan die. Huu huuuuuu. Gokan sowwy… Gokan su sowwy. Pwees nu mow dawkies.”
Chapter 12: The Past Returns in a Mysterious Way.
Victoria walked into the office Streak was trotting around the room happily humming and flexing her wings. She flapped, jumped, and scrambled onto Eric’s desk and waved to Victoria, giving her a smile. Victoria motioned to Eric and the two of them left. Streak continued to run around. As she got tired, she walked over to the bed and collapsed into it. She began to dream, her body relaxed. Her teats were developing into stage one of pregnancy, which occurs five hours to one day after initial impregnation. Streak’s dream started off well, her stomach was full of babies, and she was laying on her back. Dream Eric was standing over her and had a very concerned look on his face. The dream began.
Eric’s voice was strained and filled with worry, “Please Streak wait!” Streak felt a massive contraction, two more contractions later the foal was out. It was small, to small, it gave one breath and died. “Wy no cheepen wher bebbeh-AHHHHH!” Streak was interrupted by another contraction followed by a foal being pushed out in breech position, feet first, all but the head slipped out. But before Eric could pull out the foal, a second contraction rippled through Streak and the foal’s head was crushed. Streak was in so much pain she didn’t even seem to notice the splat that came from the lifeless foal.
Finally, the last foal began to travel up the cavity. It was big too big for Streak. Eric raced down the basement stairs. Streak, could hear crashing coming from down the stairs. Streak inhaled and exhaled with each contraction she pushed for all she was worth. A voice whispered in her ear, “Streak stop wait for Eric,” it was Victoria. “Stweak nu can any mowe neeSCREEEEE!” Another contraction, the crashing of cabinets grew louder. The foal’s rear end began to stretch Streak’s vagina to the point of ripping. The now solid Dream Victoria released Streak and tried to hold the baby in.
Streak awoke screaming, urine soaking her bed, quickly she flipped around and finished in the litter box. Where was her daddeh, Eric was always there. The litter box whirred as the clumps of litter was shifted into the storage box. She walked back to the bed and flopped down on her side; she could see that her breasts were getting bigger, and the teats were definitely pointy. She was pregnant. A mix of happy, scared, and sad tears flowed. She was happy for her babies, scared that the dream would come true, and sad that her dad would be left alone if she died. For a brief second, she thought about eating a bunch of parsley, but almost immediately, she pushed the thought away. No one came, she had heard voices resuming a little after her scream, but her daddeh didn’t come. There were no reassuring words, or hugs, or anything; she was alone.
She began crying tears of pure saddnes, ‘whew daddeh? Wai daddeh nu hewe?’ “huu huuu.” “Wan keep tummeh babbehs, but if keep tummeh babbehs den gonna go foweba sweepies. Nu know wat tu du. Huu huu.” She pulled her tail up between her legs, it was long enough to chew on; although her dad told her not to. So, she suckled on it hugging it close as she could. A gurgle from her stomach told that she needed to eat. There was a bowl of kibble and next to that a bowl of water. She ate drank and went back to the bed, clutching her tail and crying.
Meanwhile Eric was laughing, the first batch of micro fluffies had come in. The adults were one third of the size of an adult fluffy. Their babies were as big as a ten-year-old’s fist. Eric was playing with them watching them, looking with disgust at one of the abusers, he had a ‘murder boner.’ “They interact identically to normal fluffies, so there won’t be that mush testing required.” Victoria’s voice cut through Eric’s delight at the new type, “but they will require a different environment.” “Ant farms. Use the Ant Farm design and a nutrient filled gel.” Eric picked up a padded box and placed one male, and one female micro fluff into it. Eric began walking to his office, he got stopped by some employees that had found fluffies in the vent.
Eric recommended them to use skettie sent to attract them all into a specific area and grab them. Eric continued talking with them, showing them the micro-fluffs. An employee walked past, and then stopped, turned to Eric, and said, “Hey Eric, there came a scream from your office.” There came a rush of wind, and Eric was gone. He was dashing faster than anyone had ever seen before. The fluffies in the box were holding on to each other as Eric turned corners, dashed upstairs, weaved through hall-ways, and finally, opened the door to his office. Streak had cried herself to sleep by the time Eric arrived. He gently picked up the two fluffs and placed them next to Streak. They looked up at Streak. Her tear stained face fluff telling them something was wrong. The two of them climbed onto her tail and snuggled into it.
Eric stroked Streak’s head, and walked back to the lab, once more leaving Streak behind. Streak awoke and saw the two micro fluffs in her tail. Carefully she lifted, first the one than the other off her tail. The two awoke, and the three began conversing. Asking about Streak’s dad, how she lived, about her pretty horn, but when they saw that she had a horn, and wings, they freaked out. “EEEE WUN MUNSTAW FWUFFY!” Streak had only been called a monster once before, the smarty that had killed the poopie fluffy for hugging a mother in pain. “Wai ‘ou cawin Stweak munstaw. Nu am munstaw, am Awicown. Nu nee tu be afwaid.” “NU STAY AWAY FWOM FWUFFY AN’ FWUFFY’S SPESHUW FWEND!” Streak cornered them, lay down and wrapped them both in a hug. At first the two micros began panicking. “NU PWEES NU NUM FWUFFIES!” They tensed and waited to feel teeth, “Nu nee to wowwy, Stweak pwomise to nebah num fwuffies. De onwy fwuffies Stweak gabe owwies tu weh bad meenie fwuffies.” “Buh Fwuffy am munstaw fwuffy munstaw fwuffy suppose to num odah fwuffies.” “Streak sat up and laughed, “Wew siwwy fwuffies hear dat woad of poopies.” “Buh hoomans sa’ so.” Streak stared, walked over to a button and slammed her hoof onto it. Three minutes later Eric entered, “What’s wrong Streak?” “Deh wittwe fwuffies say dat a hooman am tewwin dem dat Awicowns a’ aw munstaws.”
After a brief discussion, Eric went to the lab and slammed one of the abusers to the fall. “Why are you telling the fluffies that Alicorns are monsters?” Another three minutes later, the abuser was banned from entering the lab, and sent back to the long-term observation chambers. Eric sighed and returned to Streak to find her playing with the microfluffs. He noticed Streak’s teats, developing, she is definitely pregnant.
Eric took all three of the fluffies home, and after putting them to bed, Cire went down to the basement, it was 9:00 AM. Gokan was waiting, the testosterone supplements had been doing their job, and now Gokan was mad. He hated the dark and all the monstruous noises, and whose fault was it? It was the monster human’s fault. It was the monster that took his pretty blood red horn, it was the monster that made his pretty yellow wings were now useless, it was the human’s fault that his poopie place and no-no stick had had worstest hurties, and it was the human’s fault that he was in the ‘scawy dawk’ room with ‘woudest munstaw noisies.’ Everything bad that had ever happened to Gokan was the human’s fault, and as for his herd, it was the monster’s fault that Streak was such a good fighter too. Gokan hated the monster and was going to give the dumb human worstest sorry hooves, sorry poopies, and finally forever sleepies.
The false wall slid open, allowing the light to pour in. Gokan blinked through the light. Cire stared the Smarty fluffy in the eyes. The Smarty puffed up its cheeks, he went into the ‘I’m in charge’ stance, and spoke in his most intimidating voice, but it really sounded like toddler mad about not getting a toy. “Dummeh munsta hooman, how dawe ‘ou twap Smawty Gokan in dawk woom. Nao ‘ou eithah gib Smawty Gokan’s speshuw fwend, an’ weaw sketties, an’ bestes’ bed, an’ bestes’ effie babbehs, an’ wots an’ wots of pwetty mawes. Smawty Gokan wants pointy mawes, wingie maws, nu speshuw mawes, an’ pwetty awicown mawes. Aww fo’ Gokan’s new hewd.” The brat then struck the ‘I won’ pose and smiled in a smug way.
Eric and Cire stared down at the moron, the sound of a temper tantrum woke up Eric, they laughed. Gokan stared in disbalife, “Wai dummeh hooman waghing at Gokan.” They crouched down and grabbed the monster by his neck, lifting him off his hooves and choking him. “Now listen you, IDIOT!” Gokan met their eyes with puffed cheeks, “You are nothing, you are a lump of biomass that I made.” Gokan’s cheeks deflated and stared, “That’s right you basterd I made you. I made all fluffies. I made the earth, unicorn, and pegasus types, and yes, I made the alicorns. I made you all, and I can unmake you in a second.”
Fear flashed in Gokan’s eyes, then it turned to terror, and finally, hatred. “If dummeh hooman made smawty gokan, den dummeh hooman awso made dah monstaw fwuffies dat gabe mah mummah an daddah fowebah sweepies. Now take sowwy poopies.” They dropped Gokan, and he fell with a loud bump. A snap filled the air as the left side of Gokan’s pelvis bone broke. Gokan stared in shock as the pain continued to fill his body. He began to shriek, fall on his back and kicking three of his legs, his lower left leg no longer able to move. They looked down at the kicking beast. They lifted their foot, and crushed the un-moving leg. The pelvis shattered, the Alicorn bones being stronger that normal ones, but when they broke, they broke all over the place.
They laughed as Gokan’s face was covered in tears and snot, pissing and shitting himself to the point where the smell in the basement became overpowering. Gokan’s vocal cords began to show their wear from the constant screaming, his voice shattered into a gargling, gagging, gasping sound. They reached over to another work table and pulled up a knife. They slammed Gokan onto the worktable and picked up a flame torch. Once the knife was heated to a red glow, they carefully aimed, and slammed the knife through Gokan, severing off the broken part of the pelvis, the leg, and cauterizing the wound as the same time.
They spun the knife in the air and lodged it into the wooden table. Gokan shuddered as the knife was lodged into the table only three inches from his ear, the heat radiating from it and striking his ears.
They saw Gokan’s ear twitch in reaction to the radiating heat… his tender, small, ear. “Ahhh the fluffy’s ear. So small, so soft, so… sensitive,” at the same time when he said “sensititve” he gripped Gokan’s ears. The fluffy’s little heart began beating faster, and hisbreathing became more rapid than ever before. He began crying again and slowly, painfully, and in a broken tone Gokan managed to squeeze out a few words, “Pwees… nu… tak’… heaw-pwases.” They smiled and twisted off Gokan’s left ear, leaving a hole that led to his eardrum. They grabbed the knife again and using the remaining heat, her cauterized the wound. Gokan couldn’t even scream. All he could do is cry, cry, and cry some more. Eric leaned in to whisper something when a sound from upstairs caught his attention, glass, breaking glass.
Eric and Cire raced up the stairs, they ran to the bedroom. Streak was sleeping on her bed the two micro-fluffs sleeping on top of her. They heard a sound and turned. A wood bat smashed into his head. They collapsed onto the ground. He awoke one hour later, he was in the living room, a man was sitting in the chair across from him. Eric or was it Cire, they didn’t know woke up. The man noticed and looked over, “Hey. Finally awake I see.” Eic-crie put a hand to his head, he looked to the floor and saw Streak, a ball gag in her mouth. The two micro fluffs tucked under her wings, just out of view.
Seeing that the crook was distracted, the micro fluffs slipped out, and began knowing on the twine binding Streak’s legs. Ci-ic shook his head and focused their mind. A sudden pang of pain sent him into mind swirl. The man looked at this guy, ‘this guy is who I’m supposed to kill? Why? Eric focused while Cire reassembled himself, and the both of them stared. The man looked back, he had gloves, boots and a black ski-mask on his lap. “So. Your Eric Antivie, strange… do you know what I am?” Eric looked the man up and down, from his muscle mass Eric could tell that this man could probably lift 300 pounds, a gun holster was strapped to the man’s side. “I guess that you are a paid assassin, who was told by a severely over-weight man with cigarette voice that smelled like bourbon. Who went under alias, C.E.O.”? The man’s jaw dropped. “I can tell by your reaction that I have, ‘hit it on the head?’ Let my guess two-hundred… no one-hundred thousand dollars. Those last lawsuits must have wiped out his savings.” “How do you…. I… How?” Eric put his head on the side and smiled, Cire was ready, “Because darling, I ruined him.” Out of nowhere, Eric’s ocean eyes turned a royal purple. The man was paralyzed by this. Eric leaped and punched the man in the head, at the same time he grabbed the pistol and threw it to the now completely free Streak.
Streak picked up the gun and raced out of the room leaving the two men, well three, in the room to face off. Eric began dodging and weaving through the man’s attacks. Eric spun behind him and slammed his elbow into the man’s back spine. He stumbled forward and landed on the glass coffee table. Eric grabbed the man by his hair and slammed his head into the wall once, twice, three-four-five times. The man slumped down, “Where will you be meeting him?” The man gasped and managed, “South and main in the down-town of the old city. Just outside the coffee shop.” Eric smiled and 1-2 punched the man into unconsciousness.
CEO waited at the shop, “fifteen minutes late,” he grumbled. Three police cars showed up and the cops flew out guns pointed at the obese man. In the morning, he was staring Eric in the face. Eric was smiling, his once ocean eyes a deep blood red. “Hello James, that is your name… right?” James March, former CEO of Hasbio stared at Eric Antivi, or the FluffyFather as the employees of Hasbio knew him. “How did you find my real name?” “Well James, the new CEO is a friend of mine, you remember Cele don’t you.” “Michel? He’s the new CEO, huh not surprising. You know, I never understood why he chose that name.” “Michel is the name of one of the arch angels in the Catholic religion, as you know, that’s his religion. And Cele, is short for celestial, which in turn means angelic or star-like, but were getting side tracked.”
Eric in haled and exhaled, “Why the absolute HELL! did you order a hit on me?” “You ruined my life Eric; you couldn’t let things just work out.” “You helped a mob, ran away with almost all our funds, and left me to get beaten to death, by the way my arm is better now, thanks for asking. You were the one James, and you know what… you act so much like the Smarty fluffies.” “That’s Mr. March to you boy,” he puffed up, “I am you elder.” “But I am you better! You cheap, betraying, absolute garbage, man.” Eric turned and left James and his would-be assassin to the police. When he got home, Streak and the two micros were asleep, “good.” Eric collapsed on the living room sofa. Unaware that a horrifying confrontation would be occurring soon.
End Part 2