Inspired by @Just_A_Fox’s Litter Of Alicorns comic
“Huuugghhheshhh Huhhhies!”
What Jasmine should’ve been crying out was ‘Biggesh Poopies’, but without her tongue, it was hard to do much more than groan out random syllables.
It had been a little over a month since Jasmine was attacked in her own back garden, three feral stallions with horrible yellow eyes had broken through her fence and assaulted her, one shoved his no-no stick into her mouth so hard she bit off her tongue, another ripped off her front right leggie and started eating it, and the third, the wingie-pointy leader of the trio, gave her the worst, most painful, bad special-huggies ever.
The Alicorn leader was already finished by the time Jasmine’s owner came out with a carving knife, gutting the rapist prick from cock to collarbone, not that it changed what happened to Jasmine. Even as her mother explained that those stallions just had sickies in their thinkie-place and that the doctors were trying to fix the sickies, all Jasmine could think of was the babies growing inside her, born from a monster doing a monstrous act.
Without the telltale Mummah song to inform her of the pregnancy, by the time Jasmine’s owner realised that Jasmine was pregnant it was already too late to perform a termination without severe emotional damage to Jasmine’s psyche, so instead she spent her time trying to convince Jasmine not to freak out when her babies were born, that they were likely to be wingie-pointies but that didn’t make them bad babies. Jasmine was scared thinking of there being wingie-pointy babbehs inside her, potentially hurting her good babbehs, but she tried to put on a brave face for her mummah.
Finally the time had come, Jasmine’s mummah completed house chores in the other room, unable to hear, let alone decipher the mare’s senseless groaning, leaving Jasmine to suffer in silence as she felt her children push their way out of her. It was hard to tell what hurt more, the pressure in her special-place as it was stretch open, or the toil of hearing her newborns chirp from the pain of being cold and wet and wondering where their mother was.
Eventually the pain relented, and with her one front hoof Jasmine pulled herself around to examine her babbehs. Her proud smile slowly dissolved as she saw her five children, and noticed that three of them were munstah babbehs.
How could sky-daddeh be so cruel, to inflict a monster upon her, give her babbehs in the most painful way, and then make most of them monsters like their father? It wasn’t fair, it made her sad, it made her angry, it made her…
Ashamed.
Not at having munstah babbehs, but at how she had reacted to them, it was the babbehs fault that they were monsters, they were little babbehs, they didn’t know any better. No, Jasmine would be better, she would raise her babbehs NOT to be monster, to be good and friendly babbehs who would go to nice homes and have babbehs all of their own.
These babbehs were not their monster father, they were hers.
Awkwardly, Jasmine tried to lift the first wingie-pointy to her, with only one front limb it was damn near impossible to lift the little guy to her mouth to lick him clean. She gently tried to roll him towards her, but the frightened chirps of the blind newborn told her that wasn’t the best option. With as much care and precision as an amputee mare would manage, Jasmine tried to grip the wingie-pointy foal with her teeth so she could balance him on her muzzle to lick him clean, she slowly drew her mouth closer to the foal, gently gripped her teeth onto the scruff of his neck and…
Heard her mummah scream.
Instantly Jasmine jumped back, only had to watch in confusion as her mummah started picking up her babbehs. Mummah was muttering so fast that Jasmine was only able to make out pieces of what she was saying.
‘Should’ve seen this coming’
‘It’s my fault.
‘I thought you were ready’
‘Just a Fluffy.’
‘Don’t know any better.’
Jasmine didn’t know what was going on, mummah was crying, her babbehs were crying, she was crying, instinctively she shuffled forward to try and give her mummah huggies to make everything better.
Only for her mummah to stand up and walk away, taking her babbehs with her.
“UUUUUUHHHHHH!!!”
Jasmine tried to chase after her mummah, but her disability held her back and she was unable to stop mummah from closing the door, leaving Jasmine to wallow alone in her now empty safe-room.
Unbeknownst to Jasmine, her mummah had expected the worst and prepared families to pick up the foals should they need to. After they each got a first feeding she would call her friends and gift each other with a newborn pet, each family grateful for the gift and sympathetic to Jasmine being unable to move past the trauma of her assault.
Jasmine would remain in her safe-room alone for several hours before her mummah returned once all the foals were gone, she would forever be unable to ask her mummah why she took away her babbehs, why they were removed before she could see her, smell her, taste her milk, recognise her as their mother. Forever unable to tell her mummah that she loved those babbehs more than anything, and now they were gone.
All she could do was suffer in silence, trying desperately to remember every tiny feature of her foals that she could to keep them in her heart. But having known them only mere seconds, those memories were already starting to fade, leaving only an unknown pain that would never leave her.
