“Mummah wub babbeh…
Babbeh wub Mummah…
Dwink aww ob Mummah’s miwkies… huuuuuu…..”
It had been three bright times since Syrup’s new daddeh took her and her Lastest, sensitive babbeh. It had been just as long since the foal last suckled from his mother. Syrup was reminded of this fact with each throb of her swollen, heavy milkie places. With no foal to drink from them they had grown to the point that they dragged against the plastic sheeting of the saferoom.
Syrup tried to still sing the mummah song for the foal, but it hurt her heart so much. Everyone knew the best milkies came from your mummah, but her milkies were poopie now so she couldn’t give him any. And how could he grow big and strong without his mummah’s milkies? Syrup quietly returned to softly rubbing the foals back as he fed.
The foal paused for a minute, raising its head into the air and sniffing around for a moment before-
“Chiiiirp…”
“Nuuuu! Nu make bad poopies!”
Syrup scrambled to move her foal, grabbing it by the scruff of the neck and attempting to drag him away from Miss Miwkies, slipping against the plastic sheeting as she did. The foal peeped and chirped frantically, flopping forwards in an attempt to shove the latex nipple back into his mouth, flailing his tiny hoofpads against his mother. “Nu! Babbeh-! … Nee’ make poopies… in wittah bawks!” Syrup grunted through a mouthful of the foals scruff, her legs straining against the growing bulk of her son until-
“CHEEP! CHEEP! CHEEP!”
Pllfffrrrrbtt
Tears welled in the mares eyes as Lastest voided himself, a hot warm mess now covering Syrups front leggies, dripping around her as she began to cry.
“Huuuuuuuuuuuuueeeeeegh, hic…….why babbeh nu wisten tu mummah! Why babbeh meanie!”
“Churrrrrr…. churrrrrrr…. peep!”
Syrup looked down at her foal, now wallowing around in yet another pool of its own filth. His stubby legs windmilled before he gained enough purchase to flip onto his stomach and begin sliding himself forwards, a snail trail of filth left in his wake as he made his way back to the artificial teat. Syrup felt ashamed, and alone.
“Miss speciaw fwen… Miss hewd.”
The thought of her special friend caused such pain. He would know how to deal with this. He would have helped her clean up the poopies so she could still give her babbeh her milkies. Thoughts of his death clouded Syrups mind as she wept, tears dripping onto her foals back.
“Everything alright in here?”
A blurry creature stood in the doorway. With a couple of blinks Syrup could make out her Daddehs greasy face, bringing on a new well of tears. “Daddeh….”
Her daddeh stood silently, looking at the poop encrusted pair. “Oh dear…. Should I go get the sorry stick or are you-“
Syrup had started lapping up the foul substance before her daddeh could finish, the sweet and salty taste of her tears not masking any flavor, instead accentuating the putrid slime that filled her mouth. The mare felt bile rising in the back of her throat as she quickly stumbled to the litter box, vomiting a slurry thickened by her dry kibble breakfast. She crouched trembling over the stinking puddle, tears streaming down her face.
“Syrup! you didn’t even finish giving your foal lickie cleanies! He’s still all dirty!”
Syrup sniffled loudly. “Nu wan num mo’ poopies…” she felt guilty to leave her foal dirty but she just couldn’t. Even now the taste lingered, the bile still stinging her throat.
Her daddeh walked over and sat down next to her, scratching behind her ears with a gloved hand. “Oh dear, being a mummah is tough isn’t it?” He ran a finger under her eyes to wipe her tears, a soft smile on his face. “Why don’t I give your baby a bath for you?
Syrup felt her heart start racing. “Wawa bad fo’ fwuffies! Bad fo’ babbeh!” But still… she shuddered at the thought of consuming more poopies, more tears beginning to stream from her eyes.
Her daddeh gave her a wide smile. “I think you’re due for a bath too little missy!”
“Nuuuuuuu…… nu wan baff! Wawa bad fo-“
“It’ll be fine!” her daddeh wrapped his arm underneath Syrup, lifting her up as he stood. The foal was right back at the artificial teat, suckling furiously as his tiny tail nub bobbed up and down. He squealed as Syrup’s daddeh lifted him by the scruff, peeping and chirping in distress. Syrup whined anxiously.
“Daddeh! Nuuuuu! Bad upsies! Nu gib babbeh bad upsies! Am too widdwe!”
“Sorry, I’m trying to avoid touching the ickie poopies you didn’t clean up.”
Syrup felt a heat in her chest as her face flushed in embarrassment, looking down with shame at the poopies coating her front leggies. Her daddeh bobbed her up and down jovially.
“Don’t worry Syrup, you can trust me, I’ll be gentle!”
————————————
Nick could not believe how well things were going. The foal had become basically addicted to the artificial teat, and with good reason. Each liter bottle of the Ultra-Mare Sketties-Enhanced Foal Fattener cost five bucks, a significant investment for Nick.
But the effects were already noticeable. The foal had grown considerably, even if the fat fuck learned to walk properly his legs would snap like toothpicks under his bulk. And yet he still fed, consuming his caloric intake five times over each day.
The mare was far easier. The recalled mummah feed he had got off eBay had worked wonders, the mare now sporting a set of crotchtits that would make a plastic surgeon blush. They chafed horribly as they dragged against the plastic. A side effect of the feed, but not the reason Nick bought it. Still, it made the mare difficult and somewhat awkward to hold, especially as she squirmed in discomfort at her foals treatment. Nick carried the pair to the bathroom, whistling shrilly to the foals discomfort.
“Daddeh…. Pwease gib babbeh to fwuffy! Fwuffy gib wickie cweanies, nu nee’ baff!”
Nick placed Syrup in the bathtub, hearing her soft hoofpads scratch against the ceramic as he carried the foal out of view to the sink. “Dont worry! You know I’ll be careful!” With a soft underhanded toss he landed the fat, peeping foal into the sink.
“eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeePEEPEEPEEPEEPEEPEEPEEPEEPEEPEEPEEPEEPEEPEEPiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”
“Huuu huuu, daddeh pwease nu huwt babbeh! Why daddeh be meanie! Daddeh nu wub babbeh?”
Nick smiled sweetly at the mare as she scrambled to gain purchase on the slick ceramic, crouching down next to her. “Shhhh, it’s okay, your baby is fine, he just feels ickie from all the poopies on him!”
Syrup continued her whimpering but stopped struggling, allowing Nick softly scratch behind her ears as she sat down in the tub. “I’m going to make sure your foal is comfortable, ok? Then I’ll get you washed up.”
“Huuuu…. Otay daddeh… buh be cawefuw, babbeh am widdwe!”
Nick let the smile slip from his face as he turned to stare at the peeping orange tumor in the sink. It had landed on its back, the bowl of the sink preventing him from righting himself. “Cheeerp! Cheeeerp! Cheeerp!”
Placing his finger next to the foals mouth caused it to latch. Before it could realize its mistake, Nick had shoved his finger deep in the colts mouth, his finger acting like a bridle. Nick could feel the foal attempting to retch as he reached down to flick the foal in the balls, watching it squirm in pain. Pitiful. Wretched. Vile.
The foal began to squirm faster and faster under his grasp, thrashing as Nick gripped one of its testicles, squeezing tighter and tighter as the foal struggled to escape, unable to make noise through the finger in his throat. His eyes went wide and bloodshot as he gargled
“GRHHhhghk-, Haaaggck, eeeeeeeeeee……”
pop
The foal seized, its jaw tightening against the finger in its mouth but unable to do any damage to Nick. He felt the foal vomit, using his finger he made sure its airway remained clear, dragging a thick chunk of curdled milk as he pulled his hand out. After wiping his finger on the fat fucks tubby coat, he used his finger to take the colts pulse. Frantic, but still there and steady. The foal gasped and sobbed quietly, still in shock as Nick covered the colt with a thick fluffy towel. Nick turned to Syrup with a smile.
“He’s all tuckered out! Guess that means you get a bath first!”
Syrup whined softly, it had been so long since her last bath she had regained a fear of water. Nick softly pet her behind the ears with one hand as he adjusted the tap with his other, the mare squealing in fear as cold water splashed against her hoofs. “Daddeh nu! Wawa am bad fow fwuffies!”
Nick ignored her, adjusting the water until it was just barely warm coming out of the tap. Plugging it, he let the tub fill up to the mares knees before shutting it off, the mare trembling in fear as Nick scooped up a cup full of the warm water. He began to pour cups of water over the fluffy until she relaxed, her coat releasing its filth into the water.
It took three water changes before Nick felt he had washed enough shit out of the ponies coat to begin shampooing her. But by that time the fluffy had grown used to the bath, even beginning to enjoy herself. She cooed softly, giggling as Nick lathered her in cheap but strongly scented shampoo. “Wub baffy time! Wub daddeh!” She licked his nose with the same tongue she used to eat shit not ten minutes ago. It was the closest the mare ever came to disembowelment. Nick gritted his teeth, grunting out an “Mhm.”
Nick finished the bath with a liberal application of a cheap fluffy conditioner before wrapping the mare up in a towel, setting her to the floor next to him as he picked up the foal. “Teehee, babbeh am gonna wub baffy time!” Syrup waved cheerfully from her wrapped up position on the floor, her legs kicking excitedly as Nick lifted the fat ass out of the sink, placing him in the bath roughly.
The foal had barely recovered from the destruction of his teste before he was unceremoniously dunked under a waterfall of scalding hot water, only saved from drowning by the finger Nick had shoved into its mouth. The same finger also kept the foal mostly silent as it was scrubbed roughly with a Brillo pad, the floral hand soap burning its delicate skin. Still, the foal managed to eke out a few gasping coughs, struggling as Nick and Syrup loudly belted a revised mummah song together, Nick roughly pinching the foal all over its body as the two sang.
“Mummah wub babbeh,
Babbeh wub Mummah,
Take nice wawm baffy,
So ‘ou smeww su pwetty!”
——————————————————
“Cheeearp….. cheeeeearrp….. cheeeaaaarrppppPPPPEEEEPIIIIPIIIPIIIPIII!!!”
The foal screeched and thrashed as Syrup sobbed, hugging it tightly to her chest as her daddeh watched sadly, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry Syrup. I guess he’s just too sensitive for baths.”
The mare sniffled, a gob of mucus dripping onto the foals head. “Am otay daddeh… See-wup nu ‘ou nu mean huwt babbeh.” Syrup just couldn’t understand it. The foal squealed and thrashed every time he was so much as touched, and even huggies weren’t making him better. Still, she tried her best, barely able to hold the thrashing little colt in her arms as she squeezed him to her chest fluff.
“Sorry girl, looks like you’re stuck with lickie cleanies AND poopie numming duties.”
Syrups emotions were conflicting. She felt worried and scared for her hurt Lastest, her heart aching as the exhausted and injured foal softly squirmed in her embrace, huffing and hacking from exertion.
But she also felt dread. An emotion fluffies were unfamiliar with, and therefore terrified her even more.
Would this be the rest of her bright times? Day after day of numming poopies and watching her foal drink milkies from a dummeh box? Syrup didn’t even notice her daddeh left the room until he returned, a small black dish in his hand.
“Here, maybe this will help him calm down.”
Her daddeh placed the odd bowl down in front of Miss Milkies as Syrup scooted over to him on her haunches, Lastest still clasped to her chest. Syrup leaned over and sniffed the odd fluffy interior, the scent and odd combo of floral and farmyard, but a scent that managed to instantly relax her. A scent that brought back her memories as a foal. The scent of a mummah. “Smeww pwetty! Buh…”
Syrup stared at the bowl in confusion before looking up at her daddeh. “Whewe nummies?”
Her daddeh laughed, muttering something under his breath as he scratched behind the mares ears. “This isn’t a nummie bowl, it’s a bed!” He reached over and grabbed the babbeh from Syrups arms to the mares loud protests. “Nuuu! Daddeh! Pwease gib babbeh bak! Babbeh nee’ huggies! Hab owwies an’ nee’ huggies!”
Syrup strained to retrieve her babbeh, anxiously tapping her hooves against her Daddehs thigh as he placed the colt into the fuzzy bowl.
In an instant the foal went quiet. It lay huffing in the bowl regaining its breath as Syrup and her daddeh watched. “See? He must like it better than your hugs, look how quiet he is now!” Her daddeh patted her on the back roughly, each pat shaking the stunned silent mare. “Guess he’ll need to sleep here until he’s recovered.” Reaching over he rested his hand atop Syrups head, twirling her mane between his fingers. “Guess you get the whole bed to yourself now!”
Syrup felt a crushing feeling in her chest as her daddeh rubbed her head. She didn’t know why she broke down into sobs, but as she watched her Lastest, bestest sensitive babbeh squirm until he could latch to the artificial teat, fully and completely ignoring her existence, she simply couldn’t hold back the tears.