Merrigold had never been so cozy in her twelve years of life. She’d been a breeder, a feral, a prominent member of no less than three herds, and now she was living out her twilight years the best way a mare knows how: In a nice warm housie with a wonderful mummah and daddeh and the babbehs they let her have.
The saferoom is abuzz with babbling fluffies and the lilting melody of a mummah song. The babbehs are happy, so Merrigold is happy too. She’s a simple creature, with simple needs and dreams. Maybe that’s why Kevin caught her so off guard.
Kevin was her Mummah and Daddeh’s big babbeh. He had just returned from a boarding school and already the domestic bliss Merrigold had settled into was disrupted. Mummah and Daddeh didn’t have time to play with their very good fluffy or her equally excellent babbehs. They were too busy yelling meanie words back and forth with Kevin.
Merrigold didn’t like Kevin. He was scary, and he called her mean names that made her cry sometimes. He even said he wanted to throw her babbehs in the trash! Babbehs aren’t trashies! She got so scared she peed a little, and Kevin told on her! “Mom? Dad? Your Pighorse just tried to spray me with piss!” Before Merrigold could react, Kevin grabbed her muzzle and got really close to her face.
“If you tell anyone I’m doing anything to you, I’ll kill your ugly little rats in front of you.” Merrigold struggled impotently before going limp, signalling compliance. Kevin released her muzzle and she whimpered. “Owwies…smeww pwace huwt… Wai wittwe daddeh su meanies tu-” He slapped her face. Not hard, but enough to startle her. “Kevin. You call me Kevin.” She got brave and puffed her cheeks. “Mummah an Daddeh wub babbehs! Dey nu wet meanie Kebbin huwt gud babbehs!” She could hear daddeh climbing the stairs. She was almost safe.
Kevin smiled. “No. They’ll punish me. They’ll send me back to that school, which they’re gonna do anyway. Dad’ll probably hit me, mom’ll cry, and they’ll try to make me apologize. But y’know what?” He leaned in as the footsteps approached the door.
“Your babies will still be dead.”
Merrigold felt her stomach sink. He was probably right. Even if she did tell mummah and daddeh, a hoomin can kill a foal in an instant. She wouldn’t be saving her babbehs, she’d only be able to get revenge. Fluffies don’t do revenge. It’s too angry for most of them. All she wanted was for her babbehs to be safe, for things to go back to normal.
Daddeh enters the room in a huff. “Kevin? Are you bothering the fluffy again?” Kevin feigned innocence. “No dad, I just came in here to try and pet her and she went all crazy. Tried to bite me, even pissed to make me go away.” The telltale odor of fluffy piss was faint but present. Only so much that the nanocarpet can do to mask it. Daddeh’s withering gaze turned to Merrigold. “Merry? Is this true?”
She was torn. She didn’t want to lie to daddeh, but little daddeh would kill her babbehs! She was so scared and so confused and she just wanted little daddeh to leave. “Huuuuu wittwe daddeh scawy, Mewwygowd nu wike…” She cowered behind her hoofsies, protecting her babbehs as best she could by covering them with her body.
Daddeh sighed. “Merrigold, you know better than that. Kevin is a part of this family, and you can’t just attack him for trying to be friendly. If you do this again, I’m going to have to put you in the Sorry Cage.” Her blood ran cold. She hated the Sorry Cage. It was an old birdcage that, frankly, was not large enough for an adult fluffy. When she was inside, she didn’t have enough room to stretch out in any direction. Her knees stayed at least half bent, her snout would be pushed back into her face, and she had to turn her hips a bit so her back weggies weren’t straight just to keep from losing circulation. It was horrible, and daddeh knew it.
He always felt that a punishment is only meaningful or useful if it inspires fear. The Sorry Cage did just that. Merrigold had spent a mere 30 minutes in it once and she cried for days afterwards. She’d wake up in a panic, having shit her bed more than once. Sobbing, she’d eat it all and lick the spot clean. She couldn’t go back. She wouldn’t.
"Am…am sowwy daddeh, nu wan daddeh haftu punish gud fwaffey…" Daddeh smiled. “Good. Glad that’s taken care of.” He turned to Kevin. “Son, I know adjusting to being home is hard, but we don’t know when Fort Berk is gonna be open again. I appreciate you trying to make friends with Merry.” He glared in her direction. Kevin was still playing innocent.
“Y’know dad, some of my friends back at Fort Berk raise fluffies. Maybe I could raise one of the foals? Like my own pet project while I’m home?” Merrigold was quivering, almost panicked. Daddeh rubbed his chin. “Y’know that’s not a bad idea. Which one do you want?” Kevin looked back to Merrigold, grinning maniacally when his father couldn’t see. "I’ll take…you!" In a flash he reached out and plucked Merrigold’s pink wingie babbeh. Her bestest babbeh. None of the babbehs were talking yet, but Pink Wingie Babbeh was the biggest and had opened her see places first. She loved to roll around hugging her siblings, and Merrigold was eagerly awaiting her first words.
"Nu! Pwease nu take babbeh fwum Mewwygowd! Babbeh nee mummah! Am tuu smaww! Nee mummah fow ebbyting in howe wowd!" Daddeh frowned. "Merrigold, what did I say? Be nice. Share your babbehs." She pouted as daddeh left the room. Kevin stood, carrying bestest babbeh. “Uhm, escooze Mewwy, bu’ can hab babbeh? Mummah nu wan babbeh be wonewy an hab saddies.” She meekly extended her arms for huggies.
Kevin clamped his fist around the front of her snout and lifted her. She was kicking and thrashing but unable to budge his powerful fingers. He was just laughing quietly as he watched her squirm.
“Let me tell you something: You’re nothing to them compared to me.” Merrigold tried to shake her head and say no, but Kevin wouldn’t let her. “It’s true. They love you, sure. They love your worthless fucking rat babies. But I’m their son. Whatever I do, they have to have me. I could kill you and all your kids right now and I’d still sleep in my own bed tonight. It wouldn’t change my life one bit to completely annihilate yours.” The tears were flowing free now. Merrigold had never felt so helpless. She could hear her scared babbehs chirping from below, where was mummah? The babbehs sounded cold. Kevin abruptly dropped her, thankfully not on her babbehs.
“But I don’t want that. So I’m gonna go have fun with this thing,” he gestured with the comfortably snoozing pink pegasus, who had wrapped herself around his finger "and you can stay here and do whatever you want. Just remember: I have her now."
…
Back in his room, Kevin sat at his desk. He loved torturing these things, but this one had to pass for a pet. He’d need to be subtle.
He opened his drawer and pulled out a Foal-In-A-Can. He had six. Three upright, three upside down. The upright ones contained talkie babbehs almost too big for the can. The upside down ones contained weak starving babbehs who’ve only had what little milk accidentally dripped from above.
He dumped one of the feeble ones onto the desk. He landed with a raspy “oof” and a faint whimper. Kevin reached in and removed the milk unit so it was just the nipple and a sturdy bag of milk. He held the still sleeping filly up to it and got her to latch. She softly and slowly drank it, occasionally burping or hiccuping.
Kevin was impatient with her pace, so he squeezed the bag some and raised the pressure. The filly opened her eyes, no longer able to casually feed in her sleep due to the increased pressure in her gut. She wasn’t suckling, but milkies kept going down her throat into her tummy! She struggled and batted her hoofsies around to no avail, and soon Kevin had squeezed it dry.
She was swollen with milk, as foals often will be. Kevin took her well past her comfort level and she felt sick in addition to her abdominal pain. He placed the weak reject back in his can, continuing to deny him the death he longs for. Then the pink filly is shoved ass end first into the top and left there. She’s too big to fit, but it’ll do until a litterbox is established.
Then finally, the weak fluffy has something to eat.