Tuff Fluff Shelter Chapter 1 by FluffEnough2BmyMan

Tuff Fluff Shelter Chapter 1


Author’s note

Hey everyone, I posted this story 5 or 6 years ago on fluffybooru. I don’t remember my username from back then. I was a shitty writer then, but now that I’m a mediocre writer I thought I’d rewrite the story. I kept the same setting but it’s got a slightly different plot. The original was called “David’s Home For Unfortunate Fluffs” or something like that and I only got one chapter out.

I took a page from Karn’s book and decided to color code all of the fluffy’s names and speech because it makes it so much easier to follow.


David tapped his fingers on the desk in annoyance, it was a slow day which meant he sat at the front desk doing nothing except waiting for something to happen. He had finished his 4th crossword today, usually he only had time for 1 or 2. Today was a Thursday which never really was a busy day. Most people visited on, Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, Mondays, or the day before family holidays.

David could explain the Friday and weekend rush away as people blowing off steam after working their bullshit jobs all week, or preparing for the bullshit work week ahead. David could only speculate on the Monday rush, the inside joke at the Ruff Fluff Shelter was “Garfield phenomenon”. People hated Mondays and wanted to relieve the pain of the first day of the week by transferring the pain to another being. As for the rushes before holidays David figured it was mainly people who hated their families and needed an outlet.

That outlet of course was beating the shit out of a fluffy pony for $40 over the course of half an hour.

David’s lucrative business, Ruff Fluff Shelter, had two agendas. The first, and less popular business, was to adopt out fluffy ponies… that made up 1/10th of the fluffy inventory movement. The second business on the agenda were the rage rooms that visitors could rent out and abuse a fluffy inside of.

Ruff Fluff Shelter was born because David hated roughing up the feral fluffs that were unlucky enough to cross his path, the only place he had available to serve as a toture room at the time was his wooden shed. The blood, shit, and piss always soaked into the wood and required so much work to clean out. David tried copying the show Dexter by putting up plastic sheeting everywhere but he had to spend a fortune on that plastic. David wanted a place where he could take a fluffy, really make a solid mess, and leave it for someone else to clean up. David dredged the internet for anything that remotely resembled that in his area, but the only thing he found were rage rooms he could smash cup and plates in, but that didn’t have the same feel as a fluffy’s bones and spirits.

David spent several weeks researching if he could turn a profit on such an idea, and with overwhelming support from fellow abusers he was able to get enough money to buy the building he was in now, a former elementary school. The school shut down because a bigger one was built half a mile down the road. The building was almost what he needed, but with some renovations it became perfect. One of David’s abuser buddies even found a loophole in the law system that got him some state and federal funding. As long as David offered the option to adopt out the fluffies he could get aid from the powers that be because his business doubled as a fluffy shelter.

Of course, as with everything new, there was some pushback. The first year of business David had a constant crowd of protesters from animal rights groups parked outside the front doors. They tried several times to set the fluffies free but all of their attempts got the protestors slapped with massive fines because they had attempted to release an invasive being. After that the groups attempted to take Ruff Fluff Shelter to court over animal abuse charges but found that because fluffies were a biotoy and not a “god made” animal it was morally, but not legally, reprehensible.

Over the next three years David’s business gained more traction until it was a commonly known attraction in the City. Several articles about David were written that covered every angle from good to bad. Eventually the public opinion somehow managed to fall onto a true neutral. Ruff Fluff Shelter was actually found to reduce violent crime in the city by around 29% as people found hitting a fluffy pony was better than hitting their coworkers with baseball bats.

David could look back at the last 5 years and honestly say that he had been successful in this business. He had a full staff and they were paid decently. He made enough money to pay off his student loans and also purchase a much better home.

David’s thought process was interrupted by a ding on the computer, the three toned chord played whenever a new reservation was set. David looked the reservation over quickly. A newcomer by the name of Mike Swanson had requested a room for 30 minutes at 8:15. David glanced at his watch; 8:05.

“Better get his fluffies ready.” David hated when people set an appointment so soon after reserving a spot, that really meant David had to bust his ass to get the room ready. David kept reading the reservation notes and saw that he had actually requested two fluffies; M-E-RB-319 and M-E-PW-502. This was unusual only in the fact that a standard reservation only entitled the selection of one earthie.

The two unfortunate fluffies were selected by Mike, the guy hadn’t clicked the random earthie button, he purposefully chose those two. David knew all he needed just by looking at the ID’s of the two. David quickly wrote down the ID’s and put out the sign that said he’d be back shortly.

On his way to the wing with the safe rooms David grabbed the transport cart, it was a simple black utility car with two storage totes on it used to move fluffies to the abuse rooms. David looked at the first ID, M-E-RB-319, the ID meant he was looking for a male earthie with a red coat and blue mane in room 3, that particular fluff would have a collar with a tag on it that had a 19.

David stopped at the door to room 3, he took a deep breath to steady himself. Fluffies were offensive to every sense; their obnoxious colors could hurt to look at if you looked at too many at one time, their high pitched voices and squeals sometimes made David want to put pencils into his ears and push firmly, the smell of the safe rooms had a musty odor that reminded David of a rodent cage, touching the fluffies was akin to touching a polyester blanket, and David had regrettably tried to eat fluffy meat before only to find it tasted like pork marinated in splenda and maple syrup.

David pushed the cart into the room and found that 40 sets of eyes turned to face him because of the sound the cart made against the door. David couldn’t push the cart all the way into the room, he had built a corral around the door to ensure fluffies couldn’t escape as soon as the door to the room opened.

M-MUH-MUNSTAH!” A nearby earthie cried out in fear. The fluffies weren’t talking about David himself or the cart by itself, in the minds of the fluffies the cart plus David meant demise. If David had walked into the room by his lonesome there would have only been a palpable unease spreading through the room instead of the panic.

David stepped over the short wall of the corrall and as soon as his foot came in contact with the interlocking foam play tiles on the floor all of the fluffies scattered. Each earthie bolted in a different direction but all ended up into one of the 3 corners furthest from the door. A few harmless collisions occurred but otherwise the chaos was short lived panic.

David scanned the room for the red stallion with a blue mane, unfortunately he saw two that fit that description. They were in opposite corners of the room as well. David sighed, he hated spending any more time than he had to in the safe rooms, the hodgepodge of colors were almost enough to give him a headache. David decided to go to the corner that was slightly closer to him and check there first.

This group consisted of about 10 fluffies, all of them were forcing themselves into the corner and covering their eyes with their front hooves as though that would protect them. David bent over the group and grabbed the collar of the red stallion and rotated it to see the plastic tag which read off 19. David smiled to himself, “must be my lucky day.”


“Not gonna happen, sorry.” David shook his head, there was something off about how fluffies called themselves by their own name instead of saying ‘I’. David figured that this unfortunate shitrat probably belonged to someone at some point. Clifford was not a name for a feral fluffy. Typically ferals named themselves or each other as different things around them, and not as popular children’s show characters.

David moved the fluffy over to the sink in the safe room. Every safe room was equipped with a row of cabinets used to store extra supplies for the fluffies and a sink for any required clean ups or in this case some forced defecation. David gripped the fluffy with one hand and turned the faucet on with the other.

Nuuuuu! Wawas ba’ fow Cwiffowd!” The fluffy protested, believing it was going in for a bath. As David tightened his grip and began to massage the fluffy’s belly the fluffy began to grunt. “Pwease…eeek… munstah! Nu… hnng…gib Cwiffowd ba’…huhhhh…huggies!

“Shut up and shit already.” David shook the stallion up and down slightly hoping to get some assistance from gravity as well. The work paid off as liquid shit rocketed out of the stallion’s asshole and into the running sink.

Meanie munstah make Cwiffowd hab Meanie poopies… huu huu.” The stallion whined and pushed against David’s hand with its pathetic hooves,“Tummy hab huwties.

“Yeah yeah yeah.” David turned the sink off and carried the stallion over to the door of the room. David set the stallion into the storage tote and removed the collar from around its neck, he returned the collar to it’s hook on the wall near the door of the room. As David backed out of the room with the cart, he also worked on putting the translucent lid on the storage tote, he liked to ensure that the fluffy would be less tempted to try to peer out the top and accidentally tip the container over in the process.

Pwease wet Cwiffowd gu!” The fluffy tried one more time, but the request fell onto deaf ears.

“M-E-PW-502” David read to himself, it was the next door down. “Male, earthie, purple coat, white mane, collar #2.”

David pushed the cart into room 5 in a similar fashion, just like the room before all of the fluffies went scattering into the corners. This time there was no fluffy to sound off about the dangers present, all they needed to hear was the cart against the door. This room was as equally as offensive to the senses as room 3. There were a few more fluffies in this room though, David guessed there were probably around 40 which was close to the capacity of the room. David looked to his right where the board had 5 rows of 10 hooks, there were 7 collars still left hanging which meant that there were actually 43, soon to be 42, fluffies in the room.

David was very fortunate with this room, there was only one fluffy that matched that description and it was on the edge of a pile lodged against the furthest corner. David stepped over the wall and once again did a dance around the room to avoid tripping over the scattered toys. However, David did accidentally knock over a block tower which caused one yellow stallion with a blue mane to visibly jump. “Bwockies gib Beansies scawdies.

“Yeah, so does everything else.” David sighed. One could replace ‘bwockies’ with any poorly pronounced noun and find the statement to be true.

David looked at the fluff pile in the corner of the room once again and located the purple and white fluffy. He picked it up and checked it’s collar, “Number 2, perfect.”

Dummeh hooman, no am numbah two! Pu Gewawd down ow Gewawd will gib sowwy poopies.” The purple fluffy threatened. David ignored the demands and adjusted the fluffy so if it was able to release the contents of it’s bowels it wouldn’t touch him. The fluffy began to grunt and David even felt the fluffy’s abdominal muscles contract. “HHHHNNNNGGGG! GEWAWD… GIB…SOWWY… POOPIES…

By the time the fluffy was able to release a torrent of shit David had it’s rear over the sink, the smell hit the air almost immediately; without the water from the sink or the litter in its litter box there was nothing to catch the putrid stench. David turned the faucet on as he lightly retched. David usually carried a retractable baton he used as a sorry stick on his belt, but he had left it at the front desk by accident, so he resorted to slapping the stallion on the ass. “Bad fluffy, you do not give sorry poopies.”

SCREEE! MEANIE MUNSTAH GIB SMACKY HUWTIES!” The fluffy called out to the rest of the room in an attempt to rally assistance. No fluff dared to answer the call for help “MEANINE MUNSTAH PU’ GEWAWD DOWN NAOW! HUU HUU…

David ignored the incessant barking of the fluffy, years and years of fluffspeak had completely desensitized him to all of the ‘insults’ and demands the fluffies could throw at him. He was almost to the point he could predict what a fluffy would say next, but the occasional fluffy did throw him a curve ball. There was one time a fluffy had actually called him a bitch, which was unusual because normally fluffies recoiled at the mere whisper of a curse word.

David turned the faucet to the sink off, satisfied the fluffy’s shit had been completely washed down the drain. David brought the fluffy to his eye and looked deep into the eyes of the creature, it’s eyes suggested the presence of gears but without movement. David put on his scariest face for a fluffy, neutral. “Listen here, shitrat, you’re gonna shut up or I’m gonna cut off your ears and stuff them down your throat.”

Huu…Pwease mi-mistah munstah, huu huu…pwease no take way heaw p-pwaces… huu huu.

“Then shut your yap.” David didn’t wait for any response from the fluffy, he just lowered it from view and walked it over to the cart, he opened the same storage container that Clifford was in and set Gerard inside, as he set the fluffy down he yanked the collar off of its neck… As the lid was snapped back in place the two fluffies were immediately drawn to one another and began to embrace each other in hope they could hug away the fear. This made David roll his eyes. David hung up the collar and left the room, when the door closed behind him he knocked on it twice, to his amusement several cries were heard from the other side of the door.

As David walked by the lobby he peeked in just to ensure nobody was there, which to his surprise there was. There was a man standing idly at the desk, David’s eyes flicked down to his watch, the guy was about 5 minutes early. David pushed the cart with the fluffies to the side of the hallway and walked back to the office.

“Hello, are you here for a reservation or a walk-in?” David got behind the computer and shook the mouse to wake up.

“Reservation for Mike Swanson.” The man said quietly, he looked around the lobby nervously, there was some obvious anxiety coming from him as he kept looking out at the parking lot.

“Right.” David looked at the reservation one more time. “Since you already paid online I really only need to get your signature.”

“Signature?” He asked quietly.

“It can just be a scribble, just to say you checked in and that you agree not to sue if you injure yourself.” David pointed at the card reader mounted to the desk which was waiting for a signature. David figured that ‘Mike Swanson’ was only an alias since he was relocating to give a signature. David looked at how the transaction was completed, the payment through PayPal helped confirm Mike was hiding a paper trail.

Mike used his finger to draw a scribbled line across the screen. He put his hand immediately into his pocket after he finished signing.

“Okay, right this way.” David pointed to his left which led to the west wing of the building. “Technically you’re 5 minutes early but the room’s empty so consider the extra time a freebie.”

“Oh, I can wait.” Mike offered.

“Nah it’s fine, it doesn’t need any prepping or anything.” David detoured a few steps and grabbed the cart and pushed it down the hallway in front of him. David patted the lid of the storage tote eliciting a few whimpers from within. “All I have to do is drop off these.”

“Are those…?” Mike looked at the tote with a mixed bag of emotions, both a look of yearning and of anxiety.

“These two are all yours.” David said matter of factly. “The two fluffs you chose.”

There was a brief moment of silence as they walked down the hall, the first door they passed on the left was occupied by Tina, a regular customer who tended to take an hour or two every Thursday. Tina used to come every Friday before her daughter’s piano recital but David made her a deal that she could get 10% off if she came on Thursdays instead so that some money would flow on a less busy day. Except for a couple days of the year she stuck to Thursdays from there on out.

“Here’s your room.” David led the way into the room with Mike in tow. David stopped the cart and pulled the storage tote off of the cart and plopped it onto the main table in the room.

The room itself was smaller than the rooms that the fluffies lived in, these rooms were about 25 feet by 25 feet. The floors were redone when the business first opened so that a gentle grade in the floor led to the center of the room where a drain was situated for particularly messy incidents. The tile on the floor was a cheap white commercial vinyl tile that could probably survive a nuclear warhead. The floors were painted a glossy white so that they could be hosed down if they got messy. The ceiling tiles of the room were covered with plastic sheeting typically used by painters. The wooden cabinets along the one side of the room were replaced with smooth plastic ones that contained all manner of tools from sharp to blunt and manual to electric. David tried to make the room as easy to clean as possible.

“What exactly do I do?” Mike asked tentatively as he pulled on his fingers.

“Anything.” David shrugged. “Rip out their teeth, break their legs, cut off their ears…”

“Maybe this was a mistake.” Mike took a step back. “My coworker said this would make me feel better but I feel awful, and I haven’t even started yet.”

“Why don’t you start small.” David crossed over to the cabinets and opened the drawer labeled ‘binding gear’. He walked over to Mike and offered up a few zipties, Mike reluctantly accepted them from David.

“Take the zip tie and put it around the fluffy’s mouth so it can’t make any sounds.” David took Mikes shoulder and led him over to the table the storage tote was at. David opened the tote and was met with the panicked cries of both fluffies, he grabbed the red one and lifted it.

Pwease no take Cwiffowd away fwom new fwiend!” David set the red and blue fluffy down on the table.

As David snapped the lid of the storage tote back onto the container the purple and white one cried out. “Whewe ‘ou take new fwiend! Bwing new fwiend back naow!”

Mike looked at the fluffy on the table with uncertainty. He held the zip ties in his hand and twisted them around. He took a deep breath in and stepped closer to the table.

Hewwo, are ‘ou new daddeh?” As soon as the stallion took notice of Mike he had practically forgotten about both his companion and his fears.

“You’ll wanna do it fast and decisively.” David chimed in.

“Okay.” Mike took one of the zip ties and threaded the end of the zip tie through the ratcheting portion and pulled so it was about halfway through the teeth. Mike moved it slowly towards the fluffy getting ready to put it on him.

Nyu daddeh gib Cwiffowd a fwiendship bwacewet?” The stallion asked innocently, he walked across the stainless steel top of the table to sniff the zip tie. As the stallion sniffed the cheap plastic, Mike sprung into action. His left hand went around the back of the fluffy’s head to hold it in place, his right hand put the zip tie around the fluffy’s muzzle and tightened it until it could no longer be tightened. The molars of the fluffy were forced together harshly causing it to cry out, “MHHMM HMMMNG HUUU HUUUGHH HUUU!

“What now?” Mike said, a light smile spreading across his face.

“Try putting the zip ties around it’s legs. Cut off the circulation.” David took a step back to better distance himself, this was Mike’s time after all.

Mike released the fluffy’s neck and suddenly the stallion bent over trying to remove the zip tie off of it’s face. Unfortunately it’s leathery hooves we’re no match for the superior strength of the plastic zip ties. The fluffy continued to roll around the table as Mike prepared some more zip ties, he roughly grabbed the front right leg of the fluffy with one hand and used the other hand to tighten the zip tie until it was securely fastened.


“You don’t have to use so much force, they’re incredibly weak and fragile.” David suggested. “Don’t wanna break the fluffy too soon, you know?”

“I guess you’re right.” Mike shrugged. He was beginning to warm up to the experience.

“Okay, if you have it handled from here, I gotta go back to the desk.” David started walking back towards the door to the room. “If you have a question use the intercom on the wall, and when you’re done leave the fluffies in whatever state they are in on the table, and then you can just leave the same way you came in. Don’t forget to look for more tools in the cabinets.”

“Thank you.” Mike said, tightening another zip tie around the stallion’s back leg.

David grabbed the utility cart and backed out of the room, carefully closing the door behind him. As soon as he was able he sped walk down the hallway with the cart in front of him. He wanted to make it back to the office as soon as he could so he could watch the camera feed of the room. It was always special to watch people pop their abuse cherries.

David haphazardly pushed the cart into its cubby and quickly entered the office, he sat down with some force and turned on the security camera monitor. There was a camera in every room of this building that showed what was happening at any point in the day. The cameras also served as a great way to pick on the fluffies in their respective rooms as each camera had a microphone and speaker, sometimes David went on the intercom and said a curse word just to watch the fluffies jump from surprise then cry from the word itself.

When David pulled up the camera he saw Mike standing over the fluffy on the table. He had by now put a ziptie on all of the fluffy’s legs. The fluffy walked around the table awkwardly shaking its legs in an attempt to loosen the zip ties. Mike glanced over to the cabinets along the wall and crossed over to them, he looked them over carefully and opened the drawer that contained several kinds of scissors ranging from hospital grade to regular use to garden pruners, mike opted for the regular use ones.

Mike seized the red fluffy by the neck and used the scissors to cut the ziptie off of the fluffy’s muzzle, unfortunately the fluffy wiggled awkwardly and ended poking itself in the eye with the blunted point of the scissors.


Mike momentarily paused at the accusations being flung his way. The guilt trips were the best way a fluffy could defend itself, with no way to truly harm a human they would either resort to shitting on the human or playing with the human’s emotions.

“Shut up dumbass.” Mike swatted the face of the fluffy, his tone was reserved but it didn’t matter to the fluffy, all it heard was the bad word.

MEANIE MUNSTAH DADDEH CAWW CWIFFOWD MEANIE NAME!” The fluffy had just about forgotten the stinging pain in its eye because of the swear word.

“And I’ll do it again… you uh… stupid fucker.”

BAD WORDIES NU GUD FOW CWIFFOWD.” The hoof that was covering its eye went to cover it’s ears to shield itself from the foul language. It’s hoof only stayed there for a second before the fluffy brought the hooves down to look at them with it’s remaining good eye. “WHY WEGGIES NU FEEW GUD?

Mike grabbed at the fluffy and flipped it over onto its stomach, the motion cause the fluffy to wiggle its limbs jerkily in protest. Mike grabbed all of the zip ties and pulled them even tighter than he had done moments ago. Each ziptie acted as a tourniquet cutting off blood circulation to it’s limbs. Every click of the ratcheting teeth caused the fluffy’s screaming to jump another octave higher until nothing except a pained whistle came from the fluffy’s mouth.

The fluffy was staring blankly ahead, the pain too much for it’s feeble mind to process. Mike caught sight of it’s blank stare, he waved his hand in front of the fluffy’s face but found no response. Mike looked at the fluffy trying to figure out what he should do, after a moment he took his hand slapped the stomach of the fluffy harshly until it stirred.


“How about I… take your ‘leggies’ instead?” Mike smiled sadastically, finding his groove.

NUUUU!! NU TAKE WEGGIES!” The fluffy attempted to flip itself over so it could run but it found his legs wouldn’t move to rock himself over. “CWIFFOWD NEE’ WEGGIES TO WUN AN’ PWAY BWOCKIES AN’ GIB HUGGIES!

The reasoning was not going over very well with Mike who adjusted his grip on the scissors. He grabbed the rear left hoof of the fluffy and pulled until it’s leg was entirely straight. The fluffy attempted to pull his leg back but it’s strength was no match for the grip Mike had on him. Mike took the scissors and began to cut away at the fluffy’s leg muscles. Every slice and snip cause the fluffy to screech at the top of it’s lungs. Tears in plenitude were beginning to flow, matting down the fluff it touched.


Mike was able to cut off all of the fluff, muscle, and tendon but found himself in a rut when he hit bone. The bones of fluffies weren’t particularly strong but there was no way the pair of scissors was cutting through the bone. He froze again because he lost his rhythm, he looked at the scissors and both hands which had a small amount of blood, the zip tie was acting as an effective tourniquet and not a lot of blood was spilling out.

“What the fuck.” Mike asked himself coming out of a daze, his cursing caused the fluffy’s screaming to go up another octave.

“You’re gonna want to get something sharper.” David suggested over the intercom. Mike looked around before he found a camera in the corner of the room he hadn’t previously seen. “Try some gardening pruners.”

“I—I can’t.” Mike put the scissors back down on the table. “I don’t know how I even did that.”

“You can, just grab the gardening pruners and try again.” David was concerned the guy was backing off now.

“Okay.” Mike said quietly, David almost couldn’t hear him over the screaming of the fluffy. Mike grabbed the gardening pruners and returned to the screaming fluffy. He grabbed the fluffy’s hoof again and held the sharp ends over the exposed bone but hesitated.

“It’ll cut off with one firm squeeze.” David reassured, he had taken off too many legs to count. “If the screaming is bothering you, ziptie it’s mouth closed again.”

Mike got over his concerns and squeezed the pruners closed, just as David said it only took a firm squeeze and the leg came right off and bounced off the stallion’s belly and onto the table.

SCREE!!! NUUuu!!! screeee…” The fluffy succumbed to the pain and passed out, it’s body went completely limp.

Mike momentarily thought he had killed it until he notice it’s chest rising and falling in an erratic manner. “Damn it, I think it went into shock.”

“They do that sometimes.” David advised, “pick it up and slam it against the table a couple of times, usually that wakes it back up.”

Mike grabbed the limp fluffy, as he raised it off of the table it’s head and rear were pulled down by gravity. Mike lifted the fluffy about a foot off the table and let it flop downwards onto the table, it bounced limply off of the surface. Mike once again picked up the fluffy, but this time instead of dropping it down he added a bit of force to it’s downward fall.

SCREEE! WHY OWWIES!? Whewe am Cwiffowd?” The fluffy, now awakened, remembered the predicament it was in. “Huu huu… Meanie munstah daddeh took weggie and see pwace ‘way fwom Cwiffowd.

“Shut up!” Mike finally snapped, all the reservations he had were melted away. He finally understood why his coworker had sent him here, it felt good, it felt better than good.

Mike grabbed the stallion by the bloody stump and twisted then he pushed it across the table, as it slid it screeched. The fluffy did not stop before the end of the table and slid all the way off falling onto the floor, a few cracks were heard as it landed.

Meanie munstah daddeh gib Cwiffowd bad pushies! Cwiffowd feww and hab neckie huwties!!” Mike slowly circled the table and found that the fluffy was still trying to right itself. Mike noticed that it was only moving it’s head around at awkward angles, it’s body was completely still except for the rapid breathing. The fluffy began to panic, “WHY AM NU MOVE? WAN’ WUN FWOM MEANIE MUNSTAH DADDEH!!

Mike bent over and slapped the stallion’s bloody stump and received no reaction except from it’s already in progress panic attack, the fluffy must’v e paralyzed itself in the fall.

“Damn, I was just warming up too.” Mike picked the fluffy up.

Hoo hoo… Pwease meanie munstah daddeh, no upsisies… huu huu, upsies ba’ fow huwty fwuffies.

Mike shrugged and whipped the fluffy downwards as hard as he could, carefully angling the fluffy’s head with the corner of the table. The instant the fluffy’s skull connected with the table it died.

“Where should I leave it?” Mike assumed David was still watching.

“Anywhere, just not in the storage tote.” David had to bleach the hell out of the storage totes if they had a dead fluffy in them, the smell of death would scare the shit out of the living fluffies if he put a live one in it later on. “Good news is you still have 15 minutes and another fluffy.”

“Oh shit, I almost forgot.” Mike tossed the red fluffy corpse aside and opened the storage container, the fluffy inside cowered in the corner, he had heard all of the commotion outside. “Do you have a drill and screws?”

What am dwiww?


Chapter 2

Please let me know what you think. I have most of chapter 2 written, I just have to add the colors into it and also proofread.

If anyone has some suggestions on where they’d like to see the story steered let me know and I’ll take it into consideration <3


Really great stuff!
Look forward to reading more from you.


I like it and I fucking love the idea of a fluffy abuse bordello! Keep it coming bro there is so much potential for this setting.


Love it! I want more!




I like it a lot but I have a suggestion to ease first timers in: have a screen with a video of the worst of fluffy ponies playing on it, you know stallions raping foals and mares, mares mistreating their foals or eating them, smarties shitting on a cancer kid or some fucked up shit like that.

Also I have some questions:
A)Is there a no fucking/sexual abuse rule or is that stuff fair game?
B)I assume because of the breeder part, there are lineage records so can someone go on the website and request a family for example?
C)are there descriptions on the website like “smarty”,“hates brown foals”, “ran away from home to get knocked up”, or is it just colors/gender/age?


more plss
love the concept
great writing
Cant wait to read a next chap


A) Human on fluff? Ew no, the rule is “what you might see on daytime TV”; blood and guts, not boobs and butts. You can still shove things up the fluffy’s ass but not put any part of your body inside the fluffy’s bootyhole.

B)My idea for The breeder is that she’s mainly a vet who also just so happens to be a certified breeder for the extra qualifications. Very little breeding goes down at the shelter, only occasional breeding to boost alicorn, unicorn, and Pegasus stock

C)The descriptions are a bit more simple. Age, sex, color, variant, and if there’s anything unique about them. I’m currently touching on that a bit in this new chapter I’m writing


I think most people wouldn’t feel comfortable being watched when they commit cruelties unless they were an exhibitionist. There are also laws against it in some states except where someone signs a waiver.

Eh. It’s a fictional story about people beating the shot out of fictional animals. A little suspension of belief is needed :slight_smile:

1 Like

I do think I have to criticize a little, inasmuch as a 29% reduction in “crime” (weirdly general term) would lead to both insane success and franchising right away, not to mention imitators. Also, I think the constant video surveillance and recording of them torturing even an unpopular animal would be a lot more worrying to customers than some random credit card charge.

I mean other than that though holy shit, good story. I’m interested to see what rules there are and how they get broken or enforced.

Oh whoopsie. I think faster than I write and sometimes skip a few words or add in extra words (I’m sure if you look I wrote “the the” at least once), I meant to write “29% reduction in violent crime.

As for the cameras, give a little bit of suspension of belief.

I guess I thought of them more as observation and not actually recording, like the video wasn’t getting saved onto a hard drive or anything. Idk

(Didn’t hit reply, sorry for double posting)

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It wasn’t really a criticism, but a waiver would just seem to make sense to be stuck into the paperwork that needs to be signed if a camera was watching.

After all, what if someone did something sexual with a fluffy as part of their abuse play?

Brilliant description!

Sure, I’ll put you down. You prefer fast like spiking a football? Or slow, like with my foot suffocating you slowly?
(Sorry, I’m in a mood today)

I like how you described this!

The fact that you covered this tactic for emotional manipulation makes me quite happy. I’ve had a caretaker who was very manipulative and did dumb shit like this. Part of me hearing Clifford complain and trying to make “meanie munstah daddeh” feel bad makes me want to ramp up the behavior against Clifford.


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The social trend known as “The Garfield Phenomenon” where Monday has a high volume of fluffy abuse is something that needs to be universal headcanon.

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I would 10000% use their service. Probably not to kill, but at least to cause some distress.
Also more people need to read this story so you’d be forced to continue >:))