Subverted Expectations: Tales from Fireball, Part 2 (by jimmyhopkins)

You wake up. You’re back in your bed, in your saferoom! All your toys are there! Your kibble is there! FluffTV is on! And daddy is there too, sitting on his chair! It really was just a bad sleepy picture!

“Look who’s finally awake! How you feeling Fireball?”

Daddy comes over and gives you a scratch behind the ears. “Fiwebaww hab bad sweepie time pictchuh, bu’ Fiwebaww feew bettah now dat am wakies!”

Daddy laughs. “That’s good little buddy. I was worried you weren’t gonna make it for a while there. Why don’t you go get some breakfast?”

“Otay daddeh! Fiwebaww wub yu!” You try and stand up and walk over to the food bowl. That’s weird, you aren’t standing up. “Come on, weggies! Fiwebaww am hungwy an’ wan bwekkie!” No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stand up. You couldn’t even seem to move your leggies that much! You could do sort of an odd shuffle, but the food bowl was all the way across the room!

“Daddeh, why weggies nu wisten?” You keep trying to walk, and your daddy just smiles at you.

“Maybe you should take a look at your legs?”

You don’t know why, but him saying that terrifies you. Why would he tell you to look down at your leggies?


“Take a look at your legs, Fireball.”

You gulp, looking down slowly. You can’t see your leggies. All you can see are weird flesh colored stumps with a scary looking mark on each of them. “D-daddeh? W-w-whewe weggies?”

“Look down at your legs and try moving them.”

You look down at the weird lumps and try moving your leggies. The stumps move as you try to move your legs. You let out a little ‘huu huu.’

“Have you figured it out?”

You keep trying to move your leggies, only succeeding in wiggling the scary stumpies.

“That wasn’t a dream, Fireball. You don’t have legs anymore. You have stumps.”

You flail your stumpies around. The world feels like its falling apart around you. “D-DADDEH! HEWP FIWEBAWW! FIWEBAWW IN BAD SWEEPIE TIME PICTCHUH!”

“This isn’t a dream, Fireball. Your legs are gone, buddy. But don’t worry, you’ll be okay. I’ll move you over to the food and water.” He smiles as he tells you all this. “You’ll be even more dependent on me than you were before.”

“HUU HUU HUU! NU WAN! NU WAN BE NU WEGGIE PIWWOW! WAN WUN AN PWAY AN STACK BWOCKIES!” You feel like you can’t breathe, the world is closing in around you. Your tiny mind is going too fast. If you were a human, you’d probably call this a ‘panic attack.’

Daddy comes over and picks you up. You wiggle your stumpies as hard as you can, trying to break free and run away. He puts you down in front of the food and water bottle. He pets you, and that calms you down a little. “Don’t worry Fireball, you can make it through this, you’re strong.”

“D-daddeh, Fiwebaww nu kno w-what do tu be bad feuffy, b-but Fiwebaww sowwy fo be b-bad fwuffy, can Fiwebaww hab weggies back?”

Daddy laughs. “You can’t just HAVE your legs back. This is how you’re gonna live for the rest of your life! But you can get through it, you’re strong.”

You cry. “Huu huu huu, F-Fiwebaww suu sowwy daddeh, Fiwebaww nu kno hoe be bad fwuffy, but Fiwebaww nebah du agen! P-pwease gib weggies back! Wan wun, and pway, an g-g-gib huggies! Huu huu huu!”

He laughs again. “You aren’t a bad Fluffy. You’re a very good fluffy. I just felt like you would be happier with no legs. And I felt like you wouldn’t get into any troublr with no legs. Plus, you look better now.” He gives one of your stumpies a little scratch. It’s the weirdest, most terrible feeling in the world.


“You’ll get used to it.” He says, sitting you down in front of the food and water. “Daddy is gonna go get ready for work, be a good boy while I’m gone.”

“H-huu huu, otay daddeh. F-Fiwebaww wub yu.”

“Yep, love you too, my little no leggie Fireball.” He scratches at one of your stumpies again. “H-huu huu! Nu wan!”

Daddy leaves, and you’re alone. The only stimulus you have is the food and water in front of you. You take a few bites of the food, but you aren’t hungry anymore.

You hear a gurgling sound coming from your belly.

“N-nee make good poopies…” You try and turn yourself using your stumpies, but you move so slowly!

“D-daddeh? Fiwebaww nee make good poopies! Wan be good fwuffy!”

A little bit passes, and daddy is nowhere to be found. “Daddeh! Hewp Fiwebaww! N-nee make poopies!” Still no daddy! “M-maybe fwuffy can use stumpies to get tu wittabawks?”

You try your hardest, but it takes so long to turn! After a little while, you manage to turn towards the litterbox! “Fiwebaww su smawt an’ stwong! F-Fiwebaww make good poopies, be good f-fwuffy, an daddeh gib Fiwebaww weggies back!”

You shuffle with all your might. Your stumpies hurt after a little bit, the carpet really gives them burny hurties, but at last, you reach the litterbox!

You turn around, thinking of how youre gonna make it into the litterbox, when you notice it. While you were so focused on being a good fluffy, your poopie place wasn’t listening! Theres a trail of bad poopies behind you, and it’s all over your backside as well! “F-Fiwebaww nu mean tu make bad poopies, wan be good fwuffy…”

“Alright Fireball, I’m gonna go to work, so be a good lump while I’m gone, oka-”

You look up at daddy, who has the same smile on as he usually does.

“D-daddeh, Fiwebaww su sowwy! W-wan be good fwuffy, twy tu make good poopies, bu poopie pwace nu wisten!”

Daddy just gives you a scratch behind the ears. “You know, I was thinking about giving you your leggies back…”

“W-weawwy? Fiwebaww can hab weggies?” The idea of being able to run and play again makes you so happy!

“I was thinking about it. But now that I see what a bad fluffy you are, I don’t think I’ll EVER give you your leggies back! This is your life now, buddy.”

Your world falls apart again. “B-bu Fiwebaww twy an be good fwuffy, bu poopie pwace nu wisten! Dummeh stumpies nu hewp! Pwease daddeh!”

He pinches one of your stumpies. It sends a shock of pain through your entire body, and it feels just like it did when the meanie doctor made them go away. “SCREE! N-NU GIB FIWEBAWW HUWTIES!”

“You aren’t getting your legs back, ever. If you really were a good fluffy, you wouldn’t have made bad poopies.” You think about it for a second. That makes sense. You really ARE a bad fluffy.

“Only a BAD fluffy like you would lose all his leggies! You’re gonna be a pillow forever, Fireball!”

You slam your hooves against the ground, like you used to when you were a baby and another baby was being a meanie. Or you would, if you still had hooves. You sort of just move your stumps around.


Daddy walks over to you. You try to do the upsies pose, but you just sort of move your stumps upwards.

He picks you up. “Don’t worry, Fireball. I still lo-” he stops, and makes a face like he’s about to make sickie water. “L-love you. Even if you’re a bad fluffy.”

“Daddeh…” You try your best to hug his arm with your stumpies.

Daddy sets a blankie down in front of the food and water, and puts you down on it. “I’ll throw out that rug later. Just use the blankie as your litterbox for now. Try not to go anywhere while I’m gone, Fireball!”

“Nu, daddeh! Nu weabe! Stay wif fwuffy! Pwease!” But all you hear in response is the sound of the door closing. You’re alone, surrounded by the toys you used to happily play with, no external stimulus other than your own voice, the food in front of you, the toys you can’t play with anymore, and the rancid smell of bad poopies.


This is some goooood abuse. Nice and cruel and direct.


Epic story man. The physiological and physical abuse duality is strong here


This is beautifully, pitifully cruel. What a pleasure!


It gets worse and then bettwr for fireball


I must have read this story 20 times, before I even made an account. You are an artist, and have inspired me a lot. I hope to abuse fluffies half as well as you do sir.

The irony of this comment.


He’s perma banned for having been a faggot but at least he was good for something in some roundabout way.

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I just have always liked his story about Fireball. I thought it was well done. I use to read this and Wolfram’s Milie story a lot.

Millie is a great time.

I have another story you may like, gimme a second to pull it up.

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I always wished that Millie was fully converted into a comic, but it ends at chapter 5. The written story goes on for several more chapters.

Man, same.

Jelly Bean is complete and is damn good art too.

Thanks man. I’ll give it a read now.

Poor dude simply couldn’t separate reality from fiction.
And let’s keep the dirt flinging to a minimum, especially in their stories.
Deserved or not, it’s beating a dead horse at this point.



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Beating a dead fluffy*

Damn that’s harsh. I’m nosy, what happened really?