The Fluff Factory - By Hornlarry (Booru ID 42731)

The blue mare sat in her cage, trying to hide her babies. They had been born just a few hours before, during the scary dark time. The blue mare wanted desperately to hide them, to keep them and love them forever, but she knew that the munstahs would take them away.

She had tried her best to make her cage comfortable, even though it was almost too small for her to stand up and turn around in. The cold hard metal hurt her hooves, and there was nowhere to poop except on the grille at the bottom of the cage, letting her bad poopies fall into the trough below. By now, her hooves, and hindquarters were matted with bad poopies, even though she had tried to give herself licky cleanies. It didn’t taste pretty, but on days when the kibble trough didn’t fill up properly, poopies were all she had to eat.

“Huu huu babbehs,” she cried quietly, not wanting to draw any attention to herself. “Mummah wan keep babbehs an feed babbehs bestest miwkies. Nu wan mustahs take babbehs fwom mummah. Huu huu huu…”

The blue mare cried and sniffled, keeping her babies warm in her fluff as they suckled at her crotch boobs, gently nudging them with her snout to let the other babies feed. There were three of them; brown, blue and green, and all of them beautiful. A forth had been born, but had gone forever sleepies after just a few feeble cheeps. Blue had buried the foal in a pile of poopies at the back of the cage, hoping it wouldn’t be spotted.

“Babbehs mus be gud. Hide in mummah’s fwuff. Nu cwy, nu make noisies. Den munstahs nu find babbehs.”

Blue had made a nesty, as best she could, by plucking out some of her own fluff. It meant she was nearly bald on one side, but it gave her a nest to sleep on, instead of the cold hard metal grill, and now that the babies were here, that was even more important. Blue wondered how long she could keep her babies for, or if there was even any chance of escaping.

Suddenly, bright time came.

“Wakey wakey fluffies!” one of the daddah-munstahs shouted, pressing buttons that made the bright lights and metal munstahs come to life.

All around her, Blue heard the sounds of fluffy mares excitedly shuffling towards the kibble trough, eager for today’s nummies. Some of them were in cages even smaller than her, and had to crawl on their bellies. Some of them had lost most of their belly and back fluff this way, and had weeping sores where their skin came into contact with shit caked and urine soaked cages. Blue used to try and talk to the other fluffies, but they just shouted and hissed at her, or worse still, sprayed sorry poopies into her cage. Blue was glad she was not in a lower level cage. Blue accidentally gave sorry poopies to a pink pegasus in the cage below her every day, and now the fluffy’s wings were covered in dried crap.

“Cawefuw babbehs,” Blue said, gently moving them to one side and trying her best to hide them in her torn out belly fluff nest. “Mummah need kibbew fow make bestest miwkies. Wemembew, nu cwy, nu make noisies.”

Blue crept forwards on her hooves, feeling the harsh metal bite into her soft pads. She put her nose into the trough, and waited for the kibble to pour into it. Soon, a line of kibble was racing past, and she scoffed as much as she possibly could, barely pausing to chew, so desperate was she to fill her cheek pouches full of kibble, so as to make milk for her babies.

“Cheep! Peep!”

“Nuu babbbesbs!” Blue mumbled with a mouthful of kibble

“CHEEP! Eeeepp!” the babies cried.

“BABBEBS!” she mumbled, losing some of her kibble, and half choking on the rest.

Blue decided to chew and swallow quickly. If she could get enough kibble before it ran out, and walk back to cuddle her babies, she could eat the rest at her leisure, and keep the babies quiet, hidden and safe.

“Well, well, well… What do we have here?” one of the daddah-munstahs suddenly called out from behind her.

Blue’s heart nearly exploded in her chest. They had found her babies!

“Looks like this shit-rat done spawned a brood!” said the munstah, opening the back of her cage.

Blue struggled as best she could to turn around to face the daddah-munstah, which was almost impossible in the small confines of her cage. Eventually she managed, by twisting over onto her belly, and pulling a muscle in her thigh.

“Nuuu!” she begged, spilling kibble all over the cold hard floor of her cage, “Pwease daddah! Nu take babbehs! Dem onwy wittew babbehs! Need mummah fow huggies an wuv an miwkies! PWEEEEEASE!”

But the daddah munstah just laughted, scooped up her babies, and put them into a bucket, full of other newly born foals, and slammed her cage door shut, laughing as he walked away.

“BABBEHS!” Blue wailed, watching the munstah receding into the distance with her newborn love.

“Nuuuuuuuuuuu!” she cried, “Nuuuuuuu! Nuuuuuuuu! Huuu huu huu hhuu huuu…”

Blue wept and wailed and raged and begged. But none of the munstah daddahs even listened. She had known this would happen. The munstahs came every day to check for foals, and took them away from all the mummahs. The new mummahs always cried, but the older ones just shouted and tried to give the munstahs sorry poopies. Blue knew she should have hidden the babies better. Maybe if she had given them more milk first? Or hidden them deeper in the nesty fluff?

But it was all useless. Her babies were gone.

“Babbehs… nuuu… Huu huu huu huu huu…”

“Dummeh fwuffeh shuddup!” yelled Mustard, a half bald mare with straggly tufts of mustard fluff hanging from the sides of her cage. When Blue had first met Mustard, she thought they might be friends, but the shouting, insults and sorry poopies from Mustard had soon changed her mind.

“B-b-but Mustawd… da daddah-munstahs hab taken Bwue babbehs! Dey… Eugghh…”

Blue spluttered in disgust as mustard turned her puckered and sore ridden asshole toward’s Blue’s cage, and sprayed a torrent of liquid shit all over her. Somehow, Mustard managed to turn the same kibble eaten by all the fluffies in the factory into the most foul smelling and rancid shit imaginable, and now it was all over what little clean fluff Blue had remaining. She would have to give herself licky cleanies again, but she couldn’t stand the taste of other fluffies poopies.

“Huu huu huu… why huwt fwuffy? Fwuffy am saddies cos of wost babbehs… huu huu huu…”

Mustard’s only response was to toot in Blue’s face, and expel another turd, though fortunately with not enough force to reach Blue’s cage. This turd simply landed on the diseased fluffy unfortunate enough to live in the cage below Mustard.

“Huu huu…” Blue continued to weep, this time more quietly, as she slowly licked her fluff clean of the disgusting mess.

Later that day, some more foals were born, to another relatively new fluffy who’s fluff was snow white. As it was bright time, the fluffy never even had a chance to hide the babies. The other fluffies had seen them, and this made them all start shouting.

“Daddahs! Daddahs!” Mustard yelled, louder than the others, “Snowite hab had babbehs! Come get dem! Gib Mustawd tweaty!”

Sure enough, and despite Snow White begging for the others to keep quiet, the daddah-munstahs came again, holding a bucket full of cheeping foals. They held down Snow White, despite her weeping and kicking, and extracted the foals carefully from her crotch-boobs.

“Nuuu! Pwease! Whewe take babbehs?” Snow White cried and begged, but the munstahs just ignored her and walked off.

A few moments later, they appeared with the bestest nummies ever. Sketty flavoured treats. Despite herself, Blue found herself almost begging to get some of them. Mustard got a lot of course, nearly a whole handful, and a couple fell into nearby cages, to be immediately devoured by the hungry fluffies. Still more fell into the kibble trough, and zipped by, to be snaffled by other fluffies, who were not even nearby when Snow White had given birth.

“Nu faiw! Fwuffy am teww daddah dat Snow-White hab babbehs! Gib skettie tweaties to fwuffy!” several yelled.

Other fluffies were quietly eating their favourite snacks, too content to complain, happy for a moment in their squalid hell hole.

Blue noticed that a single sketty treat had landed in her cage, laying forlornly on the floor, as if it had been abandoned.

It was not fair! Blue had carried the babies inside her tummy for a long time. She had hummed a soon-mummah song to them for days and weeks, even though she didn’t know any words. She had cried when other fluffies babies were taken, and tried to make a nest to hide them in. She had even kept them inside her at the end of the last bright time, to secretly give birth to them during the dark time, even though it was scary, so that she could hide and keep them. But the daddah-munstahs had taken them anyway.

Blue started to kick the back door of her cage. Each kick formed a word inside her simple mind:


And then, out of nowhere, the door to the back of her cage sprang open. The daddah-munstah had not closed it properly.

Blue had been scared at first. The door to her cage only opened for two things. When the daddah-mustahs came to take away babies, and when the stallions came to give bad special huggies, to make more babies. She had never seen it open on its own before. There was a metal stick that stopped it from opening. But now it was open.

“Sowwy cage am open? Fwuffy can gu?” she asked the cage, but it did not answer.

Slowly, Blue turned around again, until her head was by the rear door of the cage. It really was open, and the way to freedom was in front of her.

Blue decided she had to escape and rescue her babies.

Slowly, she gathered up the kibble that had lain scattered on the bottom of her cage. Eating some, she kept the rest in her cheek pouches, along with the sketty treat, which she would eat later to make bestest milkies. Then, she drank deeply from her water bottle, so she was ready to leave and make good milk. Then, she peered out of the cage door.

It was a long way down. As many cages high as she had hoofs. And hers was the top cage.

Blue placed a single hoof into mid-air.


Blue turned to look at the fetid and half-bald fluffy named Mustard. She was a pitiful site, covered in sores, mother of a dozen stolen broods. All the bitch cared about was getting treats for betraying other fluffy mummahs, by telling the munstahs that their babies had been born, just because she wanted treats. For the first time in her life, Blue was not afraid of the bullying fluffy.

Blue turned her ass to the fluffy, lifted her tail, and sprayed sorry poopies directly into the fluffies open and yelling mouth.

“DADDAHfleurghbfff-sppt-tffts-spltttts…” Mustard spluttered, her mouth suddenly full of rancid diarrhoea.

“Dat am wat bad fwuffy gets!” said Blue, and with that, she stepped out of her cage, and into freedom.


Blue fell, directly onto the concrete some six feet below, immediately shattering the bone in her left front leg. It splintered into shards that protruded from her leg, and she landed hard on her belly too, knocking the air out of her lungs. For a moment, she could neither move nor scream, but when the ability to breathe came back to her, scream was all she could do for a moment.


Her screaming soon attracted the daddah-munstahs, who came walking over with their buckets, no doubt thinking another fluff was having a painful labour. When Blue saw them approaching, she knew she had to run, but her leggies refused to cooperate.

“Pwease weggies! Pwease wowk fow mummah! Mus sabe babbehs! Mus find dem! Gotta wun fwom daddah-munstahs!”

But five months of being locked in a cage too small for her to stand up in properly meant that her muscles had wasted. She was little more than a fluffy ball of fat for making babies, and didn’t realise that she might never be able to run any play again, like she used to in the alleyways of her youth.

“Pwease weggies! Aiiiee!”

Blue screamed again as bone ground against shattered bone. Her left front leg was useless, and her other legs were weak and aching. Seeing the daddahs approach, Blue knew she could not outrun them, so she hid in the only place she could get to.

Blue crawled into the space beneath the cages.

Having fluffy cages stacked four high, and nofluffy knows how many along, meant that there was only one place for all the poopies to go. Straight down. Blue’s cage had been at the top, meaning she only had to worry about poopies from meanie fluffies that lived either side of her, and only from Mustard really. But the fluffies below were not so lucky. Some of them were splattered daily, while other fluffies managed to persuade those living above them to poop to one side of their cage, avoiding the worst of the downfall. Some fluffies were completely caked in poopies, having long ago given up on giving themselves licky cleanies. Some of the fluffies in the bottom rows resembled nothing more than shit-monsters.

And now Blue was crawling through the space BELOW the shit-monsters.

The daddah-munstahs did clean up the poopies sometimes. The would bring hoses on a bright time they called SaTURDay, and use the hoses to clean away all the poopies. Some of the daddahs were really mean, and would use the hoses to “clean” the fluffies, drenching them in ice cold water, some of them would do it for hours, picking on the same fluffy every time.

It had been a long time since SaTURDay though, and by now the floor was covered in a disgusting slurry of fluffy turds and urine, which stuck to Blue’s remaining fluff as she crawled through it on her belly, dragging herself along, desperate to escape, to save her babies, and trying as hard as she could not to scream from the agony in her leg.

“Where’d she go, she was here just a minute ago…” a daddah-munstah said, “She didn’t, oh god, she fucking crawled through the shit man. Look, you can see the trail.”

“Oh fuck, I ain’t goin’ down there man, I don’t get paid enough for this shit!” another said.

“You left her fucking cage open you moron! Its your fault!” the first argued.

“Okay! Okay! Just let me get a fucking flashlight and some protective clothing first!” the second shouted back.

For a moment, the daddah-munstahs left, but Blue knew they would be back, so she hauled ass through the fetid swamp of excrement, and made best her escape while she could.

Blue crawled for a long time. Eventually the daddah-munstahs returned with their flashlight, but by then, the light was a long way behind her. Blue crawled on and on. It was so exhausting. Part of her just wanted to lay down and die right there and then. She had never felt such pain, either physically or emotionally, but she knew she had to keep on going, for her babies’ sake. If a fluffy ever started saying “wan die” they just laid down and stopped eating. Eventually, the daddah munstahs would come and take them away.

Blue continued on, listening to the wails and croaks of the poop-munstah fluffies just above her. Several of them seemed to have gone forever sleepies, and one was long dead and rotting in its cage. Some of the fluffies saw her, and started shouting, afraid, or begging for treats, Blue could not tell. She just kept going. She had to find her babies, but where would they be?

Eventually, she saw a chink of light. A small opening on the other side, below the kibble troughs, and out of sight and reach of the daddah munstahs. Blue hauled herself towards it.

Clambering out of the poop, she tried to shake her fluff clean, but it made little difference. She was simply glad to be out of it though, and for a moment, she just lay there on the cold hard concrete, catching her breath, and trying to figure out what to do next.

Then she saw the kibble.

It was a whole BAG, full of kibble, and it was open at the top.

Blue crawled over to the bag and put her greedy snout into the top. She ate and ate and ate and ate and ate. She had never seen so much food, let alone smelled or tasted it. She ate until she thought her belly might explode. Then she actually was sick. Then she ate some more.

She filled her cheek pouches more kibble for later. All the kibble made her thirsty, but with her tired body and leg owwie, she knew she needed food to recover. Having eaten and rested a little, she continued her journey to search for her babies.

Wobbling to her feet, Blue managed to walk a little, or rather limp along. Every step made her hurt leggy lance pain straight to her heart. She had to stop every few steps to cry a little, and even then, she couldn’t make any noise. She bit down on her tongue to stop herself from screaming, until she tasted blood in her mouth. It was hard going for sure, but she couldn’t give up.

Then, Blue noticed the movey thing. It was a larger movey thing than the kibble trough, but it had boxes on it, moving by very fast. Blue realised that if she could get onto the movey thing, it would take her to her babies. But how to get up there? It was higher than her head.

Blue limped alond until she found a half-opened box. It had more bags of kibble in it, like the one she had found earlier. Importantly, it was right next to the movey thing. Blue carefully clambered up on top of the box of kibble bags. Twice she accidentally put some weight on her bad leg, and twice the pain was unbearable, like a white hot spear stabbing her in her heart. She bit her tongue so hard it started bleeding badly, but still she persevered.

And suddenly, she was on the movey thing! She had done it! Soon, she would save her babies! She would give them milkies, and they would give her huggies, fixing her owwie leg. Then they would run away, and find a nice park and herd to live with, and maybe a special friend. A nice special friend. Not like those meanie stallions that gave owwie bad special huggies. She would have more babies, and her three babies would be big babies. And she would have more tummy babies too. Lots and lots of babies. And nummies. And running and playing… and maybe a nice human daddah for huggies and love?

The movey thing took her a long way away from the cages. It took her past lots of boxies, and then to another area. This room was large, and well lit, and smelled of… babies! Blue could hear them making scaredy cheeps. She had never heard so many babies before. Eventually, the movey thing came to a stop, and Blue found herself on a high up table with lots of boxes. She heard some daddah-munstahs coming, so she hid behind the boxes. From her hiding place, she could see a table, covered in babies.

“So, here we’ve got the sorting table,” a hoomin was saying, “You get your bucket of foals, and pour them out onto the table. Careful now, some of these foals might be valuable. Here, this is a good one, white fluff, red mane, female and a pegasus. She’ll be sold or used as a premium breeder. You put the foal into a little box with some shredded paper towels and a milk nipple. You gotta keep the valuable ones safe, warm and fed. Then put the box onto this conveyor. NOT that one, that goes to the masher.”

Blue had no idea what the munstahs were talking about. Something about the baby being pretty.

“This one is brown. Not even worth sorting, just stick it on the conveyor to the masher. Same for this puke green one, and blotchy green one. Don’t worry about being gentle with them, they’re useless crap. Dogfood basically.”

“Cheep! Cheep!” the babies chirped in fear.

Blue couldn’t understand. They were throwing these babies away like garbage!

“Okay, so you sort them according to the colour chart, then label the box accordingly. So, we got purple earthy… Mint green unicorn, red earthy… you get the idea. Once you get used to it, we expect you to box 6 fluffies per minute. Someone else can label them for you. You switch every so often. Woah, that one’s shit itself. I generally don’t waste paper towels to mop up their shit and piss, just use a useless fluffy. They’re all going to die anyway.”

Blue nearly cried when she saw a brown fluffy with a green mane being used to wipe up the shit that a pink pegasus foal had made. The brown fluffy cried and cheeped, but was hurled into a movey thing, and soon whisked out of sight.

Blue tried to remember what her babies had looked like. They had been born in the dark, but from the tiny glow of light that had been available, Blue remembered they had been brown, blue and green. Blue looked on the table for a blue baby, but none could be seen. Then she remembered, brown and green went on the movey thing.

Blue ran for it.

Or rather, tried to, stumbled and fell, landing awfully on her hurty leg, and screaming with pain.

“What the fuck?” one of the munstahs exclaimed, “How’d that mare get on the masher conveyor?”

“I dunno?” said the other one.

“Fuck! Its gone now… well, it’ll get mashed with all the useless foals.”

Blue was moving along on the movey thing, which twisted and turned like a metal snake. All ahead of her were brown and green babies, laying in their own piss, shit and fear, all hungry, all crying, all chirping and cheeping in terror.

Blue hobbled along, trying to find her babies. It was impossible to tell by sight alone, but Blue knew she would recognise their good smell. She wished she could find her blue baby, who she knew would be the bestest baby, but she loved her greeny and browny babies too, so was desperate to find them.

“Gweeny babbeh!” she shouted, “Bwowny babbeh! Mummah am tummin! Nu wun fwom mummah! Mummah sabe yu!”

Each step brought horrible pain, and Blue felt as though she might throw up again. She had to step carefully so as not to tread on the other babies. Every time she passed one, she would give it a sniff, to see if it had her good baby scent. So far, none of them did.

But then suddenly, one smelled just right.

“Gweeny babbeh!” Blue sang for joy, picking up her green foal tenderly with her hooves, and cuddling it close to her fluff, even though she was covered in shit and blood.

“Mummah did find yu! Mummah wiww sabe you! Stay wif mummah! Mus find Bwowny babbeh bwuddah!”

Blue’s heart expanded in her chest. She had found her greeny baby! She would find Browny baby for sure now. Then, she would check all the boxes until she found bestest blue baby too. She might even save some other babies as well, if she could make enough milk for them. Then she would find a herd, and bestest nummies, and a daddah and…

“SCREEEE!” blue heard a baby scream, “SCREEEE!” another cried.

Ahead of her, after many twists and turns of the metal movey thing, there was a large metal munstah mouth, with jagged metal teethies. It had a slide leading into its mouth, and the babies were sliding right into it, where it nummed them!

“SCCREEEEEkkk!” another yelled, as the metal munstah nummed it.

From the other end of the metal munstah, it was pooping out a meat paste of fluff, belly sketties and boo-boo juice. In the background, Blue could see a picture of a barky munstah licking its teeth, and a picture of a baby fluffy inside a metal can.

“Babbehs!” Blue screamed, as another half dozen foals slide down the slide into the jaws of death.

“Nuuuuu!” Blue cried again. She hobbled more quickly past the babies, smelling them one by one, desperate to find Browny baby before… before… No, that couldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it. Blue ignored the screams of the other fluffies being nummed, and tried to find Browny baby in time.

“Cheep!” cried greeny baby.

Blue realised that in her haste, she has dropped greeny baby! She hobbled back to her, and tried to put her on her back. But greeny baby was too small and weak to cling on to her mummahs fluff, and Blue’s back was nearly bald from plucking her own fluff to make a cage nesty. Blue put her baby in the only place she knew would be safe, inside her cheek pouch.

“Dewe dewe wittew babbeb,” Blue mumbled, being careful not to bite greeny baby by accident, “It am otay.”

Blue continued to sniff the other babies. One smelled a bit like… no… it wasn’t her baby. But it did smell a bit like her baby. Blue turned around for another sniff.

And slid down the slide into the jaws of death.

"AAaarghgh… she gasped at first. Then, the metal jaws bit into her back legs.



But the metal munstah didn’t care, it just ate through her leggies in no time at all, and started to eat her poopie place, her special place, and her crotch boobs. It ate them slowly, as she was almost too big for the munstah’s mouth.


In her mouth, greeny baby was crying, and shitting herself with fear.

“What the fuck?” said a hoomin munstah, “How the fuck did a mare get in the masher?”

“Get it out!” cried another.

“Fuck! Don’t put your hand in there man, did you see what happened to Miguel?”}

“Just force it down with a broom!”

“No! No, turn off the machine. Emergency stop! Press the button!”

The metal monster stopped growling, and Blue was dragged free from its jaws. It didn’t let go though, and Blue had to be cut free, the cruel knife cutting through her shredded legs, tendons and intestines.

Blue’s head was swimming. Everything was pain, and thing were turning black and red. She could still feel greeny baby wriggling in her cheek pouches, so the munstah’s hadn’t found her yet. She would keep her safe.

“Fwugby need hugbies,” Blue managed to mumble, through a mouthful of baby and agony. But the hoomins didn’t care.

“Put her in the incinerator and turn the masher back on.”

Blue was carried away by a large stinky hoomin. Maybe he was going to give her huggies? Maybe he would help her save her babies? Maybe he could give her new leggies? And a poopie place? And a special place? And crotch boobs?

Greeny baby wiggled.

Then they were thrown into somewhere very hot.




Blue’s last realisation was that she had bitten down hard onto greeny baby, biting her clean in half.

She was a bad mummah.


Link to Index of Hornlarry Stories


This could probably also be marked sadbox.


Wow, that was brutal but I liked it. My mind is a metaphorical dog rolling around in its prose like it’s a deer carcass in the woods.


This might be too horrible for that. Bleakbox may be more accurate.

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The world is a cruel place to tiny horses.


Thanks man, I really appreciate it when people enjoy my writing, I’m not really sure what I’m doing though, it just kinda flows out of my brain hole


Goodness, I know it’s going to be a great day when I see a new Hornlarry story was posted. Great job, as always!

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This is an old one from the Booru, which I’m slowly reposting each day. I’m really glad you enjoyed it, I posted two more stories today too. Check out my index (link at bottom of story) for more

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And remember kids fluffies are for heart hurties, wowstes owies and forever sleepies


Nothing comes out well on the mill expect no hapiness from these breeding mares :cold_sweat:

At least mustard get poopie all over her fucking mouth :+1:

Sleep well blue, join your two foals on skettiland.

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This was ducking awesome.

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The idea of feeding that shit to dogs is the real abuse

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I wouldn’t really call this “bleak” it lacks the complete apathetic separation of the cruelty from the work, where the humans are so beaten down, tired and hopeless themselves that they can’t be bothered to even be mean to them. The content Gardel makes has this feeling of complete hopelessness for both human and fluffies, where late stage capitalism has somehow gotten worse and mankind is on a slow decline into extinction.

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Great story!