Your name is Dummy, and Mummah is giving you hurties again!
She’s giving you bad upsies, and her fingers are giving squeezy-hurties to your scruff! She brings you higher and higher, and you are terrified!
She holds you up to her face, and you get dizzy when you see just how high you really are.
“And now, you bad, Dummy fluffy,” she whispers to you, and you instantly make scaredy-poopies in your diaper. “It’s time for your punishment!”
You try to scream, but your dummy voice is too hurties to make noise. As Mummah begins to carry you toward the door, out of the safe-room, you stare back desperately at Ellie, your special friend, hoping that she would come and save you. The munstah fluffy that had given her bad-special-huggies is still having sleepies! She should give him sorry-hoofsies for hurting her, and then come and ask Mummah to give you back!
As you get closer and closer to the door, you wait nervously for her to help you. You love your special friend Ellie so much, and you know that she will come and save you!
But she doesn’t come save you. Instead, she walks up to the evil munstah fluffy and…
…gives him licky-kissies?
You stare, uncomprehending, as Mummah clicks the door to your safe-room shut behind her, closing you off from the only life you’ve ever known, and from the sight of your special friend kissing the stallion that attacked her.
As Mummah carries you through the different rooms, you are too terrified to look around you. Instead, you bring your lastest working hoofsie up to cover your see-places, and hu-huu softly to yourself.
“Well Dummy, you seem to have forgotten the rule about ‘no hiding from Mummah’!” she tells you, and you make more scaredy-poopies, your entire body shaking with fear. The mass of liquid shit inside the diaper chafes uncomfortably against your special-place. “…But I’ll let it slide this time. I know that your head is still cloudy from being sickies.”
Shocked, you pause in your sobs, peeking out at her hopefully.
She’s…not going to punish you?!
But then you see the not-nice smile on her pretty face, and you know that you’re in for a lot of hurties and scardies.
“I know just the thing that will help clear your mind!” she tells you happily. “When human men get too horny, they take a cold shower, but you do that all the time, and you are much too sickies for that anyway. Instead, I think that you’re going to spend a good, long time in the special sorry-box!”
You make lots of not-screamies as Mummah carries you into the kitchen.
The only reason that you know the name of the room is because you’d learned about “wooms in da housie” on FluffTV.
She turns to a big, big metal blockie—bigger than her, even—and opens a door on top. You squeak hoarsely in distress as she places you on your back inside the cold sorry-box. The last thing you see before she closes the door is her scary, not-nice smile.
“I’ll see you later, bad boy,” she murmurs to you, and you weep pathetically. “If I were you, I’d try to die of the cold before I get back to you,” she advises, and then closes the door on to the special sorry-box, plunging you into freezing darkness.
It doesn’t take long for the cold to seep into your bones.
As you continue to hu-huu, your tears freeze on your face.
You hear a scary sound from outside, and you make scaredy-poopies! At first, they are nice and warmsies! You never thought that you’d be happy to have more poopies in your diaper, but here you are!
Quickly, though, they start to get super coldies!!
All of you is much, much too coldies!
Before long, you slip into a sort of semi-conscious hibernation. You are stuck on your back; you cannot move or speak, and can just barely think!
You only feel hurties.
You can only make hu-huus on the inside, so you do.
Dummeh nebeh did do nuffin wong in whowe wife, you think sadly to yourself. Dummeh onwy did wan wub, an mebbeh sum huggies. Dummeh jus wan be gud fwuffy…
A sudden thought strikes you. Dummeh fink da weason wai am bad fwuffy am jus’ becaws was bown bad. Dewe was nuffin Dummeh ebeh couwd hab dun, was awways gon be bad fwuffy.
Somehow, deep down inside of you, you know that this is finally the right answer, and that makes you sad.
Dummeh jus’ wan be gud! Wai fwuffy nu did be bown gud?! Dummeh nu wike cowdies an huwties!
Nu wan mowe huwties!
Nu wan!
Nu wan!
Nu wan!!!
Dummeh…
…Dummeh…
…Dummeh wan die!
Wan die!
Wan die!
Wan die! Wan die!
WAn DIe! WaN dIE! WAN DiE!
W An Die! waND ie! WANdiEwAndIe! wandiE WaNiEw A ndIe!
WandI Ew ANdIE waND IEwa NIeWaN
dIe!!!WANDI EWA ndI eWa nDie wAnie WAn DIe! WAn DIeWa Ndie wa ND
Ie wANIe! wa n DIEW an dIeWaNDI Ewa N DieW AN iEWAN d i ewa ndiew A NDIe !!! W A N diew a NiEWA N d I e waNDI E w aNDI EWANDiew aNiE!!! wAN di E! W
AN D i E wAn d IE wan D iE
waNi EWan d IE!!! Wan
D I e wA Ndiew
AN Di ew ANi e wAN DI E!!!w
AN dIE! WaNd I Ewa NDIew anIEW an D i
eWa nDiewA nDIeWa Ndi
EwAN ieWa
nDIE!!!
!!! !!! !!!
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…You try and try for a few hundred forevers.
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…But you can’t.
What you don’t know is that the vastly excessive amounts of aphrodisiac that Mummah had been pumping into you so long had an unforeseen side-effect: You now have enough of the drug in your system to keep your heart beating for about a month.
The cold has suspended all other bodily functions (excluding breathing), and has drastically slowed those vital to survival.
In many ways, it is just like your average hibernation; the only difference is that you are fully aware of the cold and the pain.
So you have no choice but to suffer.
You don’t want to, but it seems that you have no choice but to sit in the freezer and suffer in a silent agony, waiting until Mummah comes to “rescue” you.
Crying internally some more, the thought pierces through your broken, shattered, irreparable mind: Fwuffy wish was nebah bown!
