Dee was a green soon-mummah. She sat in her cage singing to her first litter of tummeh babies excited to finally be a mother. To one side of sat “Cee” and to another sat “Eee”. She couldn’t see them, but they would talk from time to time to stave off isolation.
Across the hall from her sat “Dubbehyuu” a purple mare that always looked sad. They were all more experienced mothers and sang to their tummy babies as well. From time to time, one would have “biggest poopies” and then the man would come in to check on them just out of her sight. This was always followed by crying that she didn’t understand.
She shifted around in her pen as much as she could to get comfortable. There was little more than a paper pad to absorb spills and liquids and a tray in the back for poopies and pee-pees. Both her bowl and water bottle hung on the door where the various human daddehs could change them quickly.
She was picked up from the bargain bin at fluffmart and was so excited to go to a new home. She heard so much about saferooms, and little mummahs, and daddehs, and FluffTV. This was nothing like that, instead of a spacious saferoom, the room her cage was in was room the size of a mop closet. It made her so sad that she spent all of her time in this tiny cage, well, almost all of it.
The first thing that happened when she got “home” was get special huggies from a mean wingy pointy stallion. She shuddered thinking about him. Then she had a mean man explain that she was a “breeduh” and she was going to make wingy pointy babies. She was happy to be a mummah at least, she remembered how wonderful her mummah was and she wanted to be just like her.
“Biggest Poopies!” she felt the foals forcing their way out. It was a long process, by fluffy standards, as she expelled the litter. She panted with relief when it was done and turned to clean and feed her babies. She checked over them all. Two regular ones like her, a wingy, a pointy, and a wingy-pointy. Brown, pink, red, yellow, and white.
She was such a good mummah for making a wingy-pointy like the man wanted. Surely he would reward her with a stuffy friend or sgettis! She plopped two onto her teats and began hugging the rest close. The red one flopped uselessly in her hooves. “Siwwy bebbeh!” she giggled. “Nu am chirpie fow mummah?” It didn’t reply.
She tried to put it on her teat when the first two were finished but it wouldn’t move. She fed the other two and continued to hug and sing to it. Getting more desperate as it remained unresponsive. “Mummah wub bebbeh huu bebbeh wub mummah huu bebbeh nuu tawkie huu bebbeh make chirpies tu say fwuffy wub yuu! huu huu huu”
“Nuu huu huu Bebbeh guu foweba sweepies.” She hugged it closely and fell asleep, taking slight comfort in her remaining chirpies kneading on her milky places.
Bang “Wake Up ladies! Time to visit the canteeen!” Dee was startled awake by the door slamming open as the meanie mister did every morning to feed them. The noise startled her foals awake and they started chirping in fear. “Dewe dewe bebbehs. Am otay. Am onwy daddeh mistah.” She rolled over to hug and comfort them but a moment too late.
“Well Shooey! Looks like one of ya had yunins!” He leaned over and started gazing into the cages with a hand above his eyes as if to shade his eyes from sun, when in reality it was simply the perpetually buzzing fluorescent light overhead.
He gaze tracked across Dee. “Well whatchu you hidin’ over thar?” He accused her. She knew better than to talk back by now. She chose her words as carefully as a fluffy could and said something that didn’t contradict him. “Dee am good mummah! Bebbehs am scawdies! Dee make bebbeh scawdies gu away!”
He wasn’t looking, he was grabbing a bucket off a wall and opened her cage. He grabbed a foal which had begun to calm down but only began to screech in fear yet again. “Pwease! Bad uppies am nuu gud fow bebbehs!” He plopped it into the bright orange paint bucket and reached for another. This time the white one.
“Well lookie here! An alicorn, right from your first batch! Boss man said this cage was haunted, but you seem to be fixin’ to break that curse, I reckon.” He plopped it down as gracelessly as the first. Dee spoke up “Dee am gud fwuffy? Make gud bebbehs fow huggies an wub?”
He pushed her aside with her hand and grabbed the next. “Only huggies you’ll be getting are the special kind. These’un gonna be sold off.” Plop “That white one alone is worth a fortune, ’sides, there ain’t no room for no babies in this tiny lil cage.”
“Nuu! Bebbehs nee mummah’s miwkies! An Singies! An Huggies!” She wrapped her hooves around her last two, the brown earthie and the stillborn pegasus. His hand wiggled between the foals and her body and quickly overpowered her grip. “Calm down missy, thems gonna get milk and thems new owners gonna love them sure as rain.”
He grabbed the flailing brown one first and popped it down with the rest of the screeching chirpies. The bring red corpse tumbled across the cage floor as this happened. “Whoops! Careful missy wouldn’t want something bad to…” he saw it wasn’t moving. “Ah well! We can’t sell him, so I spose you can keep him for a lil while longer.”
He shut the cage door and left. Dee was left alone with her last foal. She just clung to him and wept. Eventually the meanie mister came back and gave them all food and refilled their water. “Ya’ll ready for me to take him now?” She looked up into his eyes with tears and shook her head. “Allright, well, he’s gonna start stinkin the place up.”
With that he shut the cage and left. Each day the man came in twice to provide fresh water and food and to collect foals from other mares when they gave birth. Once in the morning and once at night. The litter would be scooped on alternate days. Each time he would ask her to give up the foal.
She tried her best to take care of the red stillborn. She would sing him songs, give him hugs, and push him up against her milkie place. She loved all her foals the same, even the forever sleepy ones. Her milk places hurt, they felt like they were bursting with no foals to feed.
By the second day the foal was in a rather sad state. As the body dried the eyelids retrected. It’s eyes were milky. “Wook! Bebbeh see pwacies am wowkin!” His bloated tongue flopped from it’s mouth now that neither rigor mortis nor the once fresh ligaments held its mouth shut. “Bebbeh weady fow miwkies nao?” Still, it would not suckle.
She gave him licky cleanies to help with the smell, but it didn’t work no matter how hard she tried. Instead, his fluff started coming off in her mouth and she was forced to spit it out. She made sure to hug him extra tight in her fluff to keep him warm.
By the third day he was completely putrid. While cleaning, one lick which was exceptionally rough ripped a leg off. “Nuuuu! Mummah sowwy! Nuu mean tuu huwt bebbeh! Huggies make wowstest huwties gu away!”
At dinner, the meanie mister reached in with a rubber glove. “Enough’s enough missy! That dead foal is stinkin’ up the whole room!” He plucked the dismembered leg first and then worked his hand in as he had a few days before to grab the corpse. She screamed and fought back as much as a fluffy could.
“Nuuuu! Mummah need bebbeh ow am mummah nu mowe! Bebbeh need huggies an wub!” This all played out as he gently played a sort of thumb war with her hooves. He was able to release her grip and grab the corpse by its scruff.
Dee wouldn’t go down without a fight. She jumped up and grabbed the foals tail, she dug her hooves in and started pulling. Normally the cage floor was a smooth frictionless surface, and the paper pad would act as a sled, but the corpse’s integrity was so far gone that her weight was enough to tear it in two.
rancid guts spilled down onto the floor and the spectacle caused other mares watching to scream in terror. “Bebbeh gu fowebah sweepies! Bad mumah huwt bebbeh!” The cacophony of derision she received filled her with shame and terror.
She released the dead foal ass in her mouth to defend herself “Dee Nuu am bad mummah, meanie Mistah make bad uppies an huwt fowebah sweepie bebbeh!” While she was busy doing this he scooped the rest of the guts out of the cage before slamming the door on her.
She was left alone to cry to herself, she didn’t move for the next few days. She made poopies and pees where she laid. She didn’t eat or drink and eventually her milkie places stopped hurting as they stopped producing milk. She just lay there rocking forward and backwards on her side, mumbling a mummah song to her forever sleepy baby.
This is a two parter. IDK when part two will drop.