Edit: now with artwork by the wickedly talented @Carniviousduck
Corncob was a good fluffy.
He tried hard to be good, because he knew what happened when he wasn’t.
Ever since he was born, he’d seen what happened when he misbehaved, and tried his hardest not to let it happen again.
But… accidents happen. Sometimes Corncob stepped in his kibble and tracked hoofprints all across the carpet. Sometimes Corncob forgot about the ‘bad poopies’ rule and left a huge steaming dump on the floor. Sometimes Corncob was playing too rambunctiously and broke something expensive.
When that happened, the punishments began, and afterwards, Corncob curled up in his bed with his stuffy toy and cried.
Corncob hated punishments.
Corncob was a good fluffy.
…he was just a little forgetful, and clumsy, and slow on the uptake, and…
Corncob woke up one morning and hauled himself out of his bed, stretching his tiny limbs and letting out a high-pitched yawn.
The sun was awake, he could hear his daddy moving around in the kitchen, his stuffy toy was still within reach, and he’d left a massive poopie in his bed. Everything was goo-
Wait.
Something about that wasn’t right.
Corncob turned and, with an audible gasp, saw it. The poopie sitting in his bed.
He remembered it. Last night, he’d been asleep, and having such a wonderful dream about spaghetti, when he’d felt that all too familiar sensation of a turd trying to push it’s way out of his asshole. So Corncob had ignored it and went back to his dream, and moments later, a huge log of shit had appeared on his bed, as if by magic.
Corncob looked at it, and let out a tiny spurt of scaredy pee-pee. He knew what this meant.
Panicking, he dove back into his bed and attempted to hide the poopie… by stomping on it with his hooves, which only proceeded to mash up the shit and spread it around moore. Corncob eventually cottoned onto the idea of covering it with his blanket, so grabbed it with his teeth and pulled it over… but again, by this point, the blanket itself was mostly covered in smeared shit-stains anyway.
Corncob look at the mashed up turd and, with a sinking feeling in his heart, realised there was only one way he was going to successfully hide it.
And with that thought in his mind, he closed his eyes and bit into the turd, attempting to chew and swallow it… but the vile taste smearing across his tongue was enough for him to instantly vomit, soaking his bedding in gross sicky-wawas.
“Corncob, breakf-” Daddy began, before stopping suddenly. “Corncob, what the fuck is going on here?”
Corncob turned, ashamed, and looked at daddy, with vomit dribbling down his chin and brown smears of shit all over the yellow fluff covering his face and body.
“C-C-C-Cowncob hab aksy-dint daddeh…”
“Another one?” He said with a groan.
“Y-y-yus daddeh… pwease nu ‘punishmunt’, nu mean do it! Cowncob am gud fwuffeh!”
“If you were good, you wouldn’t be eating shit and vomiting all over my floor, would you?!” Daddy shouted, striding towards the bed. Corncob ducked down, covering his face with his hooves, but knew it was hopeless.
It was time for a punishment.
Daddy reached into Corncob’s bed and picked up two things. Corncob, and his stuffy toy, and carried them through to the kitchen. Corncob was dumped in the sink for a wash, while the stuffy toy was placed down on the hard counter, out of reach of Corncob’s stubby hooves, but still within sight.
Then daddy opened a drawer and took out a wooden cutting board, lifting up the stuffy toy to place it on top of the wooden surface.
“Pwease nu! PWEASE NU DADDEH!” Corncob cried, tears pouring down his shit and vomit smeared face.
“Corncob, you know the rules. When you misbehave, you need to be punished… and that means your stuffy toy has to face the consequences.”
‘Daddy’ looked down at the stuffy toy sitting on the cutting board. It had been through hell already, he’d made sure of that. Any time Corncob misbehaved, he’d take it out on his stuffed toy friend. Sometimes he stuck pins in him, other times he cut him open and stitched him up again with big, ugly thread that made it impossible to ignore. Once or twice he’d even cut off whole limbs before sewing them back on.
He didn’t want to hurt Corncob, he knew it wasn’t his fault… but he couldn’t just let him get away with something like this. He had to make sure he at least tried not to do it again.
And that’s where the stuffy toy came in.
“PWEASE NU HUWT STUFFY FWIEND!” Corncob shrieked, thrashing around desperately in the smooth metal sink, his heart pounding as he tried to think of a way to save his beloved stuffed toy from any further pain or suffering.
“I’m sorry, Corncob, but it has to be done.” Daddy said as he reached into the drawer again and took out a weathered cardboard box of thumb-tacks. He flipped open the lid, picked one out… and drove it hard into the stuffy toy’s torso.
“NU! NU-HU-HU!!!” Corncob wailed as daddy removed his hand, revealing the thumb-tack was stuck fast in where the stuffy toy’s heart would be. Another tack was chosen, and it was stabbed into the toy’s left hand. Another, this time into it’s right leg. Again and again, tacks were jabbed into the toy and driven deep into the soft stuffing, and before long the entire thing was peppered all over with plastic thumb-tacks.
Corncob had watched the entire time, and hadn’t stopped crying since it began.
“Do you see what you make me do, Corncob?” Daddy asked with a sigh, holding up the tack-riddled stuffy toy. “Do you see what I have to do every time you misbehave? This is your fault, Corncob. You did this to stuffy.”
“Nu… nu mean huwt stuffy-fwiend…” Corncob mewled from within the sink, sobbing into his hooves.
“Then you know what you have to do: stop fucking up all the damn time.” Daddy replied, pulling the pins out of the stuffy toy and dumping them back into the cardboard box.
A minute later, and the stuffy toy was hurled into the sink, lightly smacking Corncob in the face as he continued to weep and wail.
“You both wait here, I’m gonna go clean up the mess you made.” Daddy said. “And if you misbehave while I’m gone, Corncob, you know what’s going to happen, right?”
They both looked at the stuffy toy, and Corncob shivered.
“Puh-puh-pwomise daddeh… pwomise be gud fwuffeh…”
Daddy left, and Corncob looked at the stuffy toy sitting in the sink with him.
The entire thing was covered in reminders of the various times Corncob had been bad. Here was a stitch for the time Corncob broke daddy’s TV. There was a patch from when Corncob had knocked over his food-bowl and spilled kibble all over the floor. When Corncob had tried 'enf’ing daddy’s slippers, daddy had removed one of the stuffy toy’s eyes, and to this day, it was still gone.
And now it was covered in tiny perforations from all the numerous pins. Forever, it would be a reminder of the time that Corncob shit his bed, pissed on the floor, then smeared the shit everywhere, tried to eat it, and vomited on top of it.
“Am su suh-suh-sowwy stuffy-fwiend…” Corncob mewled, hugging the stuffed toy as tight as he could. “Nu mean be bad fwuffeh… wan be gud fwuffeh… Cowncob su sowwy stuffy-fwiend… pwease nu hate Cowncob…”
Corncob was a good fluffy.