Marshy laid flat on his bed. He was bored. So very, very bored. His new mother was rapidly stamping her big hooves on the clicky thing that attached to her tee bee. He just wanted to get up, go over and give her huggies. Maybe play some ball. Anything that would take him away from the cold and miserable existence just lying there and doing nothing at all. He could only ever move around on his stumpies to go to the litterbox on the side of his pen. He was a good fluffy. He did good poopies, even when it was harder than ever without his legs.
Oh how he missed his legs.
Marshy was a âPiwwowfwuffâ as his mummah called it. The âWeggie Stealing Munstahâ took his legs, it was almost enough to bring him to sad wawaâs even remembering. His mummah told him that Pillowfluffs are âspecialâ. He doesnât feel special. Ever since his daddeh left him alone, his legs were taken by the munstah, heâs lived a miserable life.
His old daddeh was never mean, he must have rescued him. At least, thatâs what Marshy wanted to think. Heâd never know his own loving âDaddehâ took his own legs or that his nice new mother took him home and gave him a nice bed was the one who paid for his own legs to be removed. When she is not there, he has Fluff TV to keep him company.
The other fluffies have legs. But they are not mean, at least. But every day Marshy wiggles his stumpies, willing them, begging his legs to come back in the vain hope they will come back and he can go play like the fluffies on the tee bee do.
Marshy looked down onto his bed. Wait, his motherâs hooves are moving. Marshy smiled! Finally, some attention! He wagged his tail rapidly as she moves her hoof over and gently rubs the attention starved fluffy.
âYou are such a good fluffy, Marshyâ she purrs as she pets the white blob of fluff contentedly waggling its stumps.
Marshy eagerly leads his head in. His motherâs hugs are the only thing to live for. That and Sketti. If Marshy had legs to make his mummah happy and Sketti, he would be the happiest fluffy.
âBe a good boy Marshy. Mommyâs just going to go outside for a few minutesâ
Marshy sighed in disappointment as his mother went out to the balcony for one of her burnie sticks. They smelled terrible. He could never understand why she used them. But they made her happy. If mummah was happy, Marshy would be happy. Maybe he would get his weggies back then and mummah would be really happy! But then, in the tiny mass of cells that made up his small brain. Marshy had a thought. Maybe if he hugged his mummah, she would be so happy his legs would come back. That could work!
Marshy began to wriggle his stumps. He needed to get out of his bed. He plopped a stump down and moved forward. Moving! He was moving! It was almost like having weggies again! He tumbled out of the bed and onto the desk. This was great. All he has to do is give huggies and get his weggies back. After a bit of rolling around, he eventually managed to get himself onto his hindquarters, this was perfect! He outstretched his stumps and began to call for his mummah! She needs to be here! She needs hugs! Marshy needs his legs back!
A low growling came from his poopie place. Oh no! Marshy needed to make poopies! And quick. Marshy looked around. Oh no, he couldnât move at all, and mummah was coming back in! Marshy panicked. He didnât know what to do. It was then he saw Mummah coming back in. Mummah didnât look happy.
âWHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT OF THE BED MARSHY?â
Splort
A brown wet log of turd slipped onto the desk as the fright and the need to release Marshyâs bowel diverged as one.
âMARSHY! HOW COULD YOU! WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT BAD POOPIES!â
The woman walks over to the corner and No! Not that! That glistening sorry stick! That threatening black boxie! Sheâs coming over with them! Marshy can only see the stick lift into the air and land with a huge thump on his backside as he wriggles his stumps ineffectively.
Thwack!
âHUUUUUUUUU!â Marshy cried out
âBad Marshy!â the woman rebukes as he feels the sting of the sorry stick. Marshy panicked. He was a bad fluffy, he knew that when he made bad poopies. But he needed to tell his mummah he was so very sorry but the painful strokes of the stick put his mind out of frame.
âFwuffy sowwy!â
âWhy arenât you saying your name? You are lying!â
âFwuffy nu mean-â
âEnough! You can come out of the sorry box when you really are sorry!â
The woman picked up and unceremoniously plonked the crying ball of fluff in the dark and cramped box.
âNUUUUUUUUUU!â Marshy screamed as the lid was fastened tight⌠No legs to help him escape from the confines of the box. No warm hugs. He began to sob as the darkness enveloped him in the box and his mind once more.
âWho is ready for the big #PillowMeet this weekend!â the headline beamed on twitter. PillowFluffs.com were organising a meeting in her area and it just happened to be tomorrow.
Rebekah frowned and adjusted her glasses. She just spent the last 15 minutes cleaning the desk and spraying air freshener to get the stink of fluffy shit out of the air before returning to her laptop. She should be overjoyed she could share her stories and show off Marshy, her proud new pillowfluff. The event organiser, âLumpOfFluffâ had already invited her since she was a moderator there as well.
Rebekah was well read and advanced up the ranks quickly about pillowfluffs. She was an expert, willing to give out advice from anyone who listened and chase away the liars who tried to brigade from other boards telling them that they were hurting the fluffies. âYou know what, they are the hugboxers. They probably buy one of the fluffies with MLP colors and fuck it to death. Thatâs rightâ Rebekah thought angrily as she deleted another âLegsplainerâ from the board.
Marshy was her first Pillowfluff, once she found an apartment complex that allowed pets. But Marshy wasnât being behaved. He got out of the bed, shit on the desk and tried to lie about it. He knows heâs not supposed to move out of the bed. Rebekah knew that moving just reminds them of their legs and makes them unhappy to add further complications. Sheâs already discussed it with the Pillow Community. Marshyâs been lying and forgetting his name. Even the sorry boxings were becoming frequent. Maybe it was the testosterone as he had not been spayed yet. Marshy was technically in his adolescence.
But as âLumpOfFluffâ explained. âA pillow will never see other fluffies most of the time. Getting them neutered or spayed is just giving money to evil vets who judge you for having a pillowfluff. Most fluffy vets didnât even have a degreeâ. And she was right. Fluffy vets were mostly a scam with most of them having no degree in veterinary science. And even the ones with degrees were âToxicâ to pillowfluffs.
âLumpOfFluffâ was a guru to her. Rumored to be a Hasbio scientist on the original project. They were integral to the community. They knew everything about pillowfluffs, how to make one and how to take care of them correctly so they can be truly loving fluffs.
Ever since she dealt with that breeder two months ago, she was told repeatedly how much a pillow fluff was a mistake by her friends. Bullshit. Rebekah KNEW how to make a pillow fluff a happy fluff. She did her research. She was well prepared to make a fluff that relied on her the whole time. She even made space for his bed on her desk so he could see her at all times. She put the litterbox underneath the desk so he always had to ask to go poopies first. She wasnât like those so called hugbox owners who shove the fluffy in a spare room and only see it when they feed it, then have the audacity to call themselves âresponsible fluffy ownersâ.
Marshy barely cries when she is there after all. Heâs always happy when she is there. He enjoys spaghetti like any happy fluffy would. Heâs only ever once cried at FluffTV when watching âBaww!â. Rebekkah immediately stuffed him in the sorry box till he stopped and lit a cinnamon scented candle on top of the box to soothe him. The bad behavior only escalated since. If only he could just stop fidgeting about.
Rebekah could only just explain and hope they would be accommodating
From: MissPillowLuvr93
Not sure if I can come. Marshy isnât behaving. Tantrums and trying to escape his bed. Might have to pass. Donât want to disappoint people with a bad fluffy
âLumpOfFluffâ responded back
Donât worry. Some fluffies just misbehave because they want even more attention than what you can give and he can meet other people and fluffies this weekend. We have sorry boxes and sticks on hand . Plus Pillowfluffs are even happier with other Pillowfluffs, I donât see how it would be a problem 
Rebbekah smiled. Looks like she can take him anyway. And she can show her new technique. Turned out Marshy seemed to behave a lot better and be subdued when she used scented candles on the sorry box wafting through the air holes. Just like a human. All those people claiming fluffies can be hurt by sharp smells are full of shit as usual. Just more claptrap from Hasbio and other manufacturers to sell their products. âYou are a much more considerate owner than thatâ she smirks at her own thoughts.
She lit a candle and placed it upon the sorry box before heading to bed. Eucalyptus this time. It helps the mind for humans, should be the same for fluffies.
Marshy had stopped sobbing in the box as he seemed to calm down a bit.
What was that smell. Itâs so sharp? It stings! It stings his snouty so much! This was the huwties box again!
Marshy rolled around ineffectively on his stumpies, but it was no use. The huwty smells were everywhere
He could only whisper âMummah hewpâŚâŚâ as he made more sad wawaâs in the box as the hurty smell attacked him from every angleâŚ
Rebekah stood at the bus stop the next morning with travel cage in hand. She was on the way to the meeting at a local conference hall. Marshy was still sleeping. He ate his green âlocally sourced vegetable kibbleâ slowly this morning (None of that Hasbio expensive crap. And fluffies need kibble for their vitamins. Not that oats and vegetables crap the breeder told her either) and apologized repeatedly for his mishap using his name this time. âHeâs learning though tiredâ Rebekah thought. âHe was probably wanting to apologize so much he was practicing all nightâ. She pondered how much he loved her and relied on her and felt amazing. She was the owner of a truly happy pillowfluff. The bus swings by and Rebbekah takes her charge onto the bus. Itâs going to be a wonderful day.
Rebekah stomped off the bus in a bad mood. A little girl asked to see the âCute fluffyâ and cried when she saw Marshyâs legs missing, which caused Marshy to cry as well. Rebekah got mad at the little girl for triggering her fluffy. Her fucking hugboxer mother called her âcruelâ on top of that. Rebekah gave her a piece of her mind and called that woman the kind that pretends they are a hugboxer who lets ferals roam freely but kills them with an extended torture session when in their backyard instead of protecting fluffies like she does. The bus driver told them both to shut the fuck up or he was getting the police. She angrily whipped her phone out and broadcast it to the world as she marched into the hotel lobby.
âLegspwainersâ coming out in real life and called me âCruelâ. How dare they! Have they not seen how happy Marshy is? #PillowFluffsAreHappyFluffs
Rebekah finally arrived to the hall. A hotel bellhop gave her the directions but didnât seem impressed. There was so much oppression in the venue already. She picked up her badge from the receptionist at the front of the hall in time to see the end of a talk about pillowfluffs on TV
âAnd if you can see through the last few months. The programming on FluffTV has shown an anti-pillow agenda. The amount of time pillowfluffs see fluffies with legs is far too high. We will be reaching out to try get more pillow related programming outside of that nasty âPillow Pinataâ game show during the âabuse hoursâ. We deem it unacceptable and will demand they also use legged fluffies with equal amounts to ensure fairness and prevent this unnecessary stereotyping of pillowfluffs as depressed abuse magnets. We understand fluffies better than anyone else as our bond is so close. We know we are leading the responsible fluffy community with our collective talent, wisdom and gift for raising our pillowfluffies right. As we all say, Pillowfluffs are happy fluffs.â
The audience all seemed enraptured as they clap for the end of the speech. Some even whispered the mantra. Some had their own pillowfluffs with them in their laps and whispered it in their fluffies ears. They all seemed to break off into their own small groups after the speech was over. Holding their pillowfluffs in their arms and handing out treats to other pillowfluffs. The sight of happy pillowfluffs made Rebekkah smile. Some coughing and yawning came out of the travel box. Marshy was waking up. She took her darling out of the box and left the box at the storage area as he came to life, wiggling his stumps.
A woman with a grey and purple maned pillow fluff in her hand walks towards you âOh wow, is that Marshy? I saw his pictures on Fluffit. Heâs so cute!â. Marshy and the other fluffy started their typical fluffy greetings of âHewwo?â and âAm fwuffy!â.
Marshy saw another fluffy! Another fluffy! Marshy hasnât seen one near him since the meanie weggie munstah took his weggies!
âHewwo!â
He reaches out to give huggies and oh-
No weggies.
A nyu fwend and he canât hug them
Marshy canât cry. Mummah isnât happy when he cries.
âAh, thereâs our starâ The speaker seemed to be approaching. She was a slightly older woman, greying hair and a southern accent. Maybe a bit of a paunch. She was carrying a sleeping green maned and red fluffed pillowfluff. Rebekah smiled and introduced herself. âAh, but I know who you are MissPillowLuvr93â she smiles as she offers a fluffy treat to Marshy. He takes it in his mouth and chomps eagerly at the tasty treat. âYour boy is quite popular on the board. Such a sweetheart. I canât imagine why you told me he has problemsâ. Rebekahâs jaw drops.
âLumpOfFluff?â.
âIn the fleshâ the older woman smirks. âBut call me Kristiâ
âWow, itâs wonderful to finally meet you Kristi. Iâve learned so much from you onlineâ Rebekah smiles back warmly. âAnd whoâs the darling in your arms?â
âOh, this is Strawberry. One of my special fluffs. Sheâs a bit sleepy from the trip over. She will wake up soon. You should come with me and have some coffee. We have a catering table decked out and a pen for the fluffies with lots of foodâ.
Both ladies walk over to the area and deposit their fluffies in the roomy and soft pen. A trough of spaghetti lines the side with some balls that a black and blue pillowfluff is already nosing about a ball contentedly.
Marshy rolled around the pen. There was sketti he could roll to. And other fluffies to talk to. He felt a little better not being alone so much. Two of the other fluffies were playing with a ball.
But they were all missing their weggies too. Did the weggie stealing munstah get them too? He tried not to think about it. He didnât want to cry. Heâs been in so much trouble. He might get the huwtie box again if he cries.
And there he saw her. The most beautiful green mane and bright red fluff heâd ever seen. Marshyâs heart jumped as she yawned and began to wake up. She was the prettiest fluffy he had ever seen. She began wobbling on her stumpies over to the spaghetti box and started to munch hungrily. Before he even knew, Marshy was wobbling his stumpies over too. Slowly but surely, Marshy felt driven to get there and talk to the nice fluffy.
âHewwoâ
âH-Hewwoâ
âAm Mawshy. Who yu?â
âAm Stwawbewwyâ
âYu pwetty maweâ
If Marshy still had his hooves. They would be implanted straight in his forehead with how smooth that line went over.
Strawberry fluttered her eyes and giggled âWan pway baww?â
âMawshy wuv baww!â
The two fluffies begin to wobble and roll to the ball with their snouts. For once. Both seem happy and content just to be in the company of another fluffy and forget about their lack of legs.
Rebekah felt like she was a queen holding court as she explained her âSoothing Sorry Boxâ to the amassed people around her. By using different scented candles, she could soothe the pillowfluffâs time in the sorry box and make them relaxed when they are removed. She made time to explain that Anti-Pillowers claim they are hurting the fluffy, but itâs wrong. They just want to sell their âTortureâ sorry boxes that do things like spray listerine on the fluffy or have small spike on the side. Itâs all part of the anti-pillow agenda that the pillow communities ideas are dismissed when they are the only ones that have a special bond with their fluffies and come up with ideas that discipline and help the fluffy at the same time.
The attendees seemed in agreement with this wonderful new way to teach the fluff some discipline. Kirsti congratulated her on the âSuperbâ idea. So much praise. Rebekah smiled, her efforts to be an expert on pillowfluffing were finally paying off with the praise of her peers.
Marshy and Strawberry giggled as they rolled over each other. Their lack of legs almost forgotten as they enjoyed the other company. They hugged as best a fluffy duo could without their legs.
âStwawbewwy think yu pwetty tuâ
âMawshy wuv Stwawbewwyâ
âStawawbewwy wan be yu spechuw fwendâ
The lovers giggled and embraced something stirred in them both. It resonated. The time had flew by. For a while they forgot they had no legs. But now, they loved each other very much. But Marshy could feel something growing in his no-noâs. He didnât just love her as a friend, but as a special friend. Strawberry knew it as well. Almost instinctively they knew what to do. They needed to have special huggies right away.
However, when Marshy rolled around and began to mount the mare. He couldnât seem to get a grip. He just rolled off ineffectively every time. He began to get frustrated even with Strawberryâs encouragement. Then a tiny spark appeared in his brain.
The blockies! He could climb up them. He climbed on things before. He can do it without weggies. Then give bestest special huggies! Marshy carefully nosed around enough blockies he could climb up on while Strawberry got in position. The other fluffies were sleeping so he didnât have to deal with embarassment either. The makeshift platform was complete and Marshy arrived up to complete his conquest. Soon he would be happy with his special friend with the specialest of special hugs!
Marshy thought he was on top of the world as he plunged his member into the Strawberry field.
âEnf. Enf. Enf!â
Rebekah furrowed her brow at the debate currently going on the stage. âPacifiersâ. Anti-Pillowers called them a surrogate for something much more insidious. Some pillowers agree. Others think itâs a perfectly reasonable way to keep a fluffy content, happy and most of all, quiet. The man at the side of the stage is holding up a blue pegasus fluffy with a pacifier stuck in its mouth. Itâs depressed and mournful state at the start of the talk has been replaced with itâs wings are flapping at a rapid pace as it thinks itâs flying and happily sucking at its pacifier. Sheâs already been through this flame war thousands of times. Usually gets to a stalemate. Itâs just a lot more polite disagreement in real life than calling someone a âFucking horsefucking faggotâ online. She turned around to go check on Marshy. Poor guy is probably losing his mind crying at missing his mother. She walked over to check the pen and her jaw dropped again as she heard the unmistakeable sound of fluffies mating.
âMARSHY!â she shrieked at the stallion mounting the mare with the assistance from the blocks. In an instant, the entire room turned around and time stood still. The only sounds a mating duo of fluffs and a Pegasus pillowfluff falling out of a shocked manâs hand. Her expertly trained and raised pillowfluff was fucking her inspirationâs fluffy in the middle of a pen.
Rebekah grabbed Marshy by the mane and growled âYou are in massive trouble this time, Misterâ as the fluffy howled in her arms. His penis was still at full mast and visible to the congression as he cried out in terror. Rebekah turned bright red as the hushed whispers of the congregation silently judged her. Kirsti. Rebekah felt like she could burst into tears as she couldnât stop apologizing.
âI-Itâs OKâ Kristi calms everyone down. âWe all know itâs healthy. They just got a bit excited. No one would have thought they would tried it because of their stumpsâ. Kirsti maintains damage control as she takes a wailing Strawberry under her arm. After calming the room down, she beckons Rebekah outside with Marshy, Though with a quick stop for some sorry sticks and two sorry boxes on the way out from the supplies.
They soon arrive out to the car park where Kirstiâs RV stands. She had been organizing meets across the country and traveled in this. Kirsti rips open the door as she drops the fluffy onto a table, furious rage strewn across her face.
âYOU FUCKINâ WHORE. HOW DARE YOU AFTER MOMMY SAID NO BABIES! HOW DARE YOU AFTER MOMMY BROUGHT YOU TO MEET OTHER FLUFFIES AND GAVE YOU SPAGHETTI!â
Kirsti wraps a wood sorry stick so hard off the ass of Strawberry it almost breaks. A torrent of wails, âScreeââs and âHuuââs comes from the mare as her rear is trashed by the sorry sticks.
Marshy immediately begins to cry and thrash in Rebekahâs arms as he sees his lover being beaten so badly.
âFuck it. You can join her you little horny shitâ as Rebekah puts Marshy on the table and grabs a stick of her own.
Both fluffies lie beaten and cheeping like foals as the sorry boxes are brought out. Both grab their respective fluffies
âSay goodbye to loverboy you fucking skank. Iâm making you a milkbag as soon as your foals come outâ
The terrified mare peeps like a newborn after the sorry box is shut tight. Marshy follows after into his own.
Both women puff on cigarettes outside the RV. Sweating and with flecks of fluffy blood from their harsh discipline. âThey normally canât fuck without assistance. Iâm so sorryâ Kirsti explained. âStrawberry was bothering me for foals lately but I told her she canât because sheâs special and canât have foals with legs. Your boy was special. Too specialâ
âDo you think he got her pregnantâ Rebekah asked?
âOh god. Fluffies have a 99% fertilisation rate. Even just the sight of walking foals would be enough to trigger them back to wanting their legs all the time to play with the foals. I will have to milkbag her then get rid of her because she canât trigger my other pillowfluffs. We have to go to the vet and hope they can spay her in time. And if they canâtâŚâ. Kirsti trailed off and dragged on her cigarette in revulsion.
âBut I thought we were supposed to avoid vetsâ Rebekah responds as the cigarette shakes in her hand.
âWe have no choiceâ Kirsti sighed. âSometimes you have to make exceptionsâ as she takes a long drag of the cigarette.
Marshy sat strapped on the cold medical table and âcriedâ. He wasnât going anywhere but the straps stopped him from even wiggling. His mummah was very, very angry at him. All because he found his special friend. He was leaking boo-boo juice with the trashing given by the sorry stick and the vet put burnie stuff on it.
âPoor boyâ, the vet tutted. She walked around the room gathering supplies. âI suppose you knocked up the mare I just spayed beforeâ.
âStrawberry! Poor Strawberry! Where is she. Is she OK?â Marshy is thinking as he starts crying out for her!
âOh, you did? Well I guess I can be like Maury and read the paternal test now. You are not going to be a fatherâ
Marshyâs thoughts rapidly bubble into panic âBabbehs? Oh no! Strawberry! Your babbehs! This is the worstest!â
âOh shush. You donât have to worry about fatherhood any more. Looks like your owner wonât pay for anesthesia either. Lucky you and lucky me getting to hear you scream for the next twenty minutes. Hmmmphâ
The vet slides the scalpel across the delicate nerves of Marshyâs scrotal sack to cut it open
âSCREEEEEEEEE-â
âI paid you to cut off his balls. Not interrogate me about my fucking fluffyâ Rebekah fumed. Kirsti put her arm on her shoulder and told her to relax. âItâs not your fault. I donât want to do this too. Donât take it out on the vetâ. The vet had understandably asked why the two women had to perform a neutering for a badly beaten and legless fluffy and check the other for pregnancy signs.
Kirsti paid an extra $100 for silence. She knew the right vets who would. Strawberry couldnât be spayed safely while she was potentially carrying despite what she said before. Never mind the existence of her own pristine pillowfluff having foals and becoming little more than a milkbag would be highly embarrassing to her status.
Kirsti dropped Rebekah back to her flats and apologised again. No doubt there will be some cleanup and some rumors to take care of on the forums after that performance. Rebekah could keep the sorry box as well. No doubt she will need it after that display.
Rebekah stomped into the flat, dumped the box on the ground and flipped on her laptop. She needed to damage control immediately. But not before yelling at the source of her embarrassment. Her own pillowfluff.
âNo candle for you tonight! You have been a very bad fluffy and you are not coming out of that box for a week!
Rebekah looked sullen as she monitored the laptop as her embarrassment played out in front of the world, online. Someone took a video. Itâs over the forum and FluffyChan. Hugboxers and abusers are spamming it all over the pillowfluff communities.
It will take her months to salvage her reputation. She cried and wailed as she couldnât stop it. She was an expert. How could this happen to her?
Marshy laid in the box. Itâs not the smelly, huwty box tonight. Mummah is crying. Poor mummah.
Marshy ponders about his lost love as he drifts off to sleep, trying not to cry about her, his special lumps or his weggies.
Marshy knows Mummah hates crying.
