(My apologies for this being so late. Work in medical field and Covid cases rising, been super busy. Here is the 3rd part.)
Jon walked back the fenced pool of fluffies. They were still hu-huing over their dead babbehs and being wet from his hose. Jon cocked his head to the side. Outside of Blue, he found them to be pathetic. Just a bunch of meat sacks that ate everything and shit everywhere. His wrath, albeit slightly assuaged by his time with the smarty and his special friend, still seethed under his skin. He walked closer, took a seat in his lawn chair, lit a cigarette, then spoke.
âSo, I want to know which of you stallions raped my little fluffy. Tell me, or you all get forever sleepies right now.â
The fluffies all sobbed harder, a couple of them saying, âScawy munstah hoomin.â
Jon smoked his ciagerette and said dryly, âI already know, but I want to see if you can be truthful.â
One of the amres spoke up instantly, âWed and puwple did it. Dhey gib mean speshaw huggies to bwue fwuffy.â
Jon looked at her, his gaze softening. he stood up and reached out toward the mare. It was the orange one. She immediately fell in to upsies pose. These monstrosites were programmed for that. He remembered her. She snapped at him when he went to pet one of her foals. She would, ironically be served the most mercy. Jon picked her up gently and set her on the ground. She sniffed but seemed appreciative of the gesture. Jon stood there, staring at her as she looked around. Her eyes went wide a little and then she spoke, meekly at the moment.
âNyu daddeh? Gib fwuffy wuv nâ sketties? Be bestest fwuffy fow daddeh!â
Jon showed no emotion.
âNo, little one. I will not,â he said calmly, petting her head while scratching under her chin. She cooed and pressed against his touch, âBut, I will show you kindness that your herd will not receive.â
The orange mare looked at him, puzzled. She went to speak, but Jon didnât give her the chance. He grabbed her by her neck and lifted her form the ground. He held her out from his body, over the pool as she let loose a last torrent of scaredy poopies; on top of the other mare. Jon planned that. He smiled as her eyes watered and she gagged from the crushing hold of his hand. He reached up with his other hand and then snapped her neck. Her body went limp as her head lolled back. Their was an audible gasp from teh herd as her last breath released out. Jon dropped her body into the pool. The other fluffies screed and shat some more.
âHow the fuck do you keep shitting?! How much do you⌠never mind. It doesnât matter, fucking shitrats. This is your end.â
Jon stepped to the side, eyeing one of the toughies. He chose the red one with the black mane.
âNUUU! BAD UPSIES! PWEASE WET FWUFFY GU! NO WAN FOWEBAH SWEEPIES!â
He found it interesting that with the smarty gone, his toughies turn into whiny little bitches. The other fluffies started crying and sobbing again. Jon let it fly, he was goiong to ruin them anyway. Might as well let them get it out. Jon carried the toughie by his scruff toward the shed. As he opened the door, he could hear the smarty wailing.
âSPESHAW FWEND! NUUUU! WUB U! WUB U! HUU HUU HUU HUUU!â
It looked at him as he enetered wiht the other fluffy in his hand.
âSTOOPID HOOMIN! WET SMAHTY GU NAO! WET GU NAO, MUNSTAH!â
Jon smirked. He was actually a littel amused how the samrty syndrome kicked in, even with his obviously dead mate laying in front of him. Jon looked of=ver the mare. Her tongue was laying out of her mouth, eyes glazed over. She was dead alright. Still, the smarty should be a little more traumatized about this. He dinât really care for her. The sight of his dead tumym babies and mate still didnât fuck him up. Jon would be sure to remedy that; slowly.
Without a word, Jon put the toughie on the floor. It just sat there, staring at the sight in fron of it, mouth open and panting. Jon pulled a big trash can form the corner, wiped the dead tummy babies into it with a piece of wood. Their wet splat on the bottom didnât seep through Jonâs rage fueled mentality. Next, he turned the swedish sex machine off, pulling it form the mare with a wet pop. He pulled at teh duct tape and disposed of the amreâs body in the trash can with her aborted babies. Jon grabbed the toughie who just cried softly. He dropped it onto the work bench. He flipped it over on itâs back and taped it down. It was at thid point the toughie spoke.
âPwease nice mistah. Wet fwuffy gu. Was onwy doin wat smahty teww fwuffy to do. Pwease! Be gud fwuffy! PwomiseâŚâ
Jon didnât react. He had positioned the toughie with itâs ass towards the smarty. The smarty, oddly, didnât say anything. Jon found that surprising, but did not waver in his determination. He grabbed a box cutter and some rags from the tool box against the wall.
âWell now, red. Since you enjoyed destroying my Blue, Iâm going to enjoy destroying you. Since Iâm sure while the smarty fucked Blue in her special place, you were one of the ones that attacked her from the front, right?â
The toughie stared at the box cutter, then back at Jon. Itâs eyes flitted back and forth. Confusion forming in itâs gaze.
âWat dat?â
âYour pain.â
âNU! Nu huwt fwuffy.â
âNo choice little one.â
âSmawhty gib mustah man wowstest huwties. Git fwee and sabe hewd.â
The smarty actually tried to escape itâs bindings. Jon looked at him, smirking evilly. Ignoring the struggling smarty, he leaned over the toughie and began to slice into his lumps.
âSCREEEEEEEE!!! NU HUWT SPESHAW WUMPS! NU HUWT! WEAVE DEM AWONE!â
Jon wasnât deaf to the cries, he enjoyed them. He savored their ear piercing tone and knew he was avenging his fluffy. Jon continued to cut away. The toughie contniued to scream in pain as his lumps were removed; crudely and agonizingly. He didnât scaredy poop. His bowels should be empty now. Instead he let out scaredy farts. Rancid gaseous expulsions. Even the smarty, whose face was right at the toughies anus, chocked on their noxious fumes. When Jon was done yanking the balls out of the toughie, who was reduced to gasps and chirps, at this point, he looked at the smarty. He looked up at Jon and at the bloody balls of one of his herd. His eyes got wide as Jon grinned.
âDinner time.â
Jon promptly shoved them into the mouth of the smarty, clmaping his hand over his snout to keep him from spitting them out. Eventually instinct won like last time with the foal and the smarty swallowed them, gasping loudly as Jon released his hold, gulping in air.
âMUNSTAH MAN MEANIE FOW MAKING SMAWHTY SWAWWOW WUMPS OF FWUFFY! MUNSTAH! HATCHUUUU!â
Jon laughed.
âHate you more, fucker.â
Jon stepped over the front of the toughie, who was chirping like a baby and crying. It had no more voice left. Itâs voice box was worn out from his ball removal. Jon softly caressed the side of the fluffies face.
âThere, there. Itâs over now. All done.â
The toughie chirped and cooed, calming from Jonâs petting and light scratching. It relaxed a little and closed itâs eyes. If it had kept them open, it would have seen Jon poistioning the sex machine. Jon slid it over slowly and quietly. He stopped caressing the toughie and inserted the tip of the dildo end into the toughies mouth. Itâs eyes went open and wide quickly. It started flailing itâs legs. It aggged a bit as the dildo tip was only rest half way in. Jon leaned to the toughies ear.
âThe ball removal is over. Not your death.â
Jon turned the machine on low. The toughie started gagging and flailing. Itâs eyes watered while the sex machine fucked itâs throat. Jon could hear the little attempts to pull air in as it puilled back and let the airway breathe. The smarty looked at Jon and his toughie in horror. He started crying again. Jon turned away from the scene, but he heard the panicked farts start again. He spun around to see the toughie shoot one final scaredy poopies into the horrified open mouth of the smarty. The gagging sounds and the stench finally got to Jon. He walked out of the shed and breathed in the clean air.
He shot a look to the fluffies in their pool pen. They were huddled together. Trying to soothe their fear with hugs and love. Jon closed his eyes and sighed. He was going to ignore them for a bit. He needed a break. He was far from done with their decimation, but he had another responsibility to attend to. Slowly, he walked toward the house. He had to lay Blue to rest. He would do it the old way.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Jon woke the next day. It was Sunday. His weekend was almost over and he still had so much to do. He had buried Blue last night. Dug her grave at the bottom of the large tree in the corner of his yard. He had walked back toward the house, heard the fluffies calling him a monster, quietly, as they knew he would have killed them immediately if they were loud about it. Jon had decided he was going to end them today. He wasnât sure how, but it needed to end. He threw himself from his bed and proceeded to hi shower. When he was done, he made a light breakfast and had some coffee. He stodd on his deck and watched the fluffies in their pool pen. They had actually started playing with each other. They ignored his presence. Forgetful little fucks, Jon thought. He sipped a little more coffee, then noticed movement in the bushes near his fance wall. He remembered there was a fluffy still over there. He forgot all about it. He had dropped a heavy box in front of the hole to stop others from getting in, but completely forgot to look for the other fluffy over there.
Jon stepped off his deck, the herd played quietly with each other as he walked over the bushes. Jon looked closely, then noticed movement to his right. He could see a form huddled under a bush, trying to look as small as possible.
âCome out here,â Jon said calmly.
An alicorn stepped out from the bushes. It held itâs head down and looked around meekly. Jon was surprised. Alicorns normally weren;t part of a herd. They were oddly considered monsters by other fluffies. Jon looked him over. He seemed a little dirty, but not as disheveled as the herd. No, this one was someoneâs pet. He did look a little thin. Jon knelt down. Thealicorn looked up at him with bright orange eyes. Itâs coat was grey. Jon wasnât sure of the tint, it was a bit unkempt. But itâs mane. It was a deep red with streaks of dull orange and yellow. Like fire. Jon lit a cigarette. The alicorn sat on itâs back haunches and stared at Jon. This one was different than the herd, he was sure of it.
âDo you have a name?â It if it has a name, then it wasnât part of this herd.
âCwimson,â the alicron said quietly.
âCrimson. I like that. So Crimson, do you have a home? A family?â
âNo. Not anymowe.â
The alicornâs speech was still fluffy-like, but different. Jon wondered if it was a designer fluffy. Heâd never really seen one close up. Just on TV in a commercial. Especially those damn holiday ones. Jon noticed he had a little bit of a black eye and some dried blood near his snout.
âWhat do you mean, Crimson? Tell me.â
âCwimson hab famiwy and bestest wittle mumma. Bu Cwimson get owder. Gwow up to be big stawwion. Wittle mumma ni wike dhat. Want new fwuffy. New babbeh fwuffy. Mummaâs pawents dhen dwive Cwimson to hewe. Weave Cwimson hewe.â
The alicorn teared up a little, but didnât cry. Jonâs hatred melted a little. Crimson seemed well behaved and obviously came from a good home. If they could afford a designer fluffy, they had money. Jon puffed on his cigarette.
âSo, then what happened?â
âFow many bwight and dawk times, Cwimson look fow food and nu housie. No one want Cwimson. Dhen, Cwimson heaw odher fwuffies. May be new fwiends. Bu Cwimson see fwuffies huwt bwue fwuffy. Cwimson hab heawt huwties. Bwue fwuffy seemed nice. Could be new fwiend to pway and wun with. Cwimson twy to hewp fwuffy, bu meany puwpwe stawwion gib sowwy hoofies to Cwimson. Cwimson hide in wittle twees. Not good nummies, bu stiww nummies. Dhen Cwimson see hoomin, dhat you, come out and find bwue fwuffy. Cwimson had biggest heawt huwties for you. You wuv bwue fwuffy a wot, saw you face. Cwimson am so sowwy you hab biggest heawt huwties. Bu Cwimson nu know wat to do. So hid hewe. Dhen big dhing cover howe in waww and Cwimson hab nu whewe to go.â
Crimson spoke flatly, but looked at Jon the entire time. Jon sighed. He took another sip of his coffee. Jon didnât speak and looked at Crimson. Crimson sat there, quiet, looking at the ground.
âDid watch me with the herd?â
âYesh.â
âWhat do you feel about it?â
âHewd am asshowes. Desewved punishments.â
Jon laughed. He genuinely laughed. Crimson just stared at him, looking less fearful.
âI thought fluffies didnât swear?â
âNot nowmaw fwuffy.â
âI can see that.â
Jon reached out to Crimson. Crimson didnât move. He didnât shy away, but let Jon stroke his mane. Crimson closed his eyes and exhaled. Lik heâd been holding his breath for a long time. Crimson cooed and let Jon scritch behind his ears. Crimson smiled, relishing the touch that was gentle and caring. It had been so long. Crimson had been sad when he was abandoned, but Jonâs petting was a welcome feeling after what he saw the herd do and the sounds of Jonâs revenge.
âCrimson? Would like a new home? With me?â
Crimsonâs o
range eyes got big and he smiled.
âWeawwy?â
Jon noticed he didnât jump into teh normal patter of 'new housie and toysies and sketties. Crimson definitely was not a normal fluffy. Jon had a hole in his heart that needed filling and he would be lonely in the house by himself. Crimson seemed a good choice. Not a replacement for Blue, but a new beginning for them both. A person and a fluffy that both needed some one. Jon picked Crimson up.
âYes, Crimson. Youâre going to live with me in my house. Youâll have a safe room all to yourself. I will feed you, healthy food of course, and hopefully make you happy. What do you say?â
âYesh! Pwease! Wub to wive you!â
Jon noticed even in his excitement, Crimson still behaved a little different, but a good different. Jon made sure to walk past the herd as he spoke with Crimson. He knew they would hear them both and that would add to their misery.
He was right. The herd had stopped their little games and watched Jon carry Crimson to his deck. He could hear little squeaks of, âNu faiw. Why munstah fwuffy git nu housie? Dummeh munstah fwuffy need sowwy hoofsies âgain. Huu huu. Mummeh fwuffy desewb housies nâ toysiesnâ wuv.â
Jon looked back at the herd and grinned. He set Crimson on one of his deck chairs, putting his coffee cup on the table and knelt down.
âCrimson. Youâre a little dirty. Iâm going to get some stuff to clean you up with okay? I also want to check you for fleas and ticks.â
âOtay, nice mistah.â
âYou can call me daddeh, if you want.â
âOtay! Tank you, daddeh. Cwimson am su excited. Tank you!â
Crimson started to cry a little. Jon scracthed at his ears and gave him a hug. Crimson looked happy and his bright orange eyes seemed to get brighter. Jon wanted to see what his colors looked like when he was clean. Jon stepped inside to get somstuff to clean Crimson up.
Jon came back out with a bin, towels and some fluffy safe shampoo. Jon used a pitcher to get water from his sink. He mixed cold and hot to get it to the right temperature to bathe Crimson. Of course, this was all done outside in front of the herd. Jon wanted them to see him be kind to this very special creature.
Jon picked Crimson up again. He dipped one of Crimsonâs legs in, to test the water. He looked at Crimson, who nodded the temperature was right. Jon was glad to see that Crimson was used to baths, instead of whining and crying how âwawa was bad for fluffiesâ. He got to gently scrubbing Crimson down with the shampoo. He made sure to watch his eyes when he massaged it into the mane. For the most part, Crimson was pretty clean to begin with. When he was all done, Jon put Crimson on a towel and then rubbed him down wiht another to dry him off. Jon was amazed at teh colors on Crimson. He was actually a silver-grey color. His mane and tail looked like fire even more now that it was clean. He was a beautiful fluffy. Jon didnât find any parasites, his ears were decent, no major build up of wax or mites present. Crimson was also a little more muscular than normal fluffies. It must be his designer DNA. Jon was pretty impressed with him.
While Jon admired Crimson, he heard his stomach growl.
âSowwy,nyu daddeh.â
âDonât be silly, buddy. Youâre probably starving. Let me get you some food. I shouldâve that of that before bathing you.â
Jon went inside to his refrigerator. He had some fruit, so he cut it up for him and Crimson. Jon came back out wiht 2 bowls. He had cut some apples, for fiber of course, strawberries, bananas and raspberries. He set down a bowl in front of Crimson who gasped with excitement.
âFwuity nummies!â
The herd had perked up when they heard that as they all were leaned up on the side of the pool pen, looking at Crimson as he started eating the fruit Jon made for him. Jon looked at them and smiled. Suffer fuckers, he thought. Jon watched Crimson eat, As hungry as he probably was, Crimson didnât tear it into like most fluffies. Even Blue would sometimes ravish her food and make a mess. Crimson ate like he was in heaven. He seemed to savor the bites of fruit. Chewing and smiling, then another mouthful. When he was done he licked the bowl clean of the juices. He sat back, sighed then burped a litte bit.
âSowwy,â he said as he looked down.
âAll good, little buddy. I know you havenât ate good nummies in a while. Now, are you okay to sit out here for a little while? I have to take care of a few things.â
âNyu daddeh needs to make hewd pay fow huwting bwue fwuffy. Cwimson unnerstand. Can Cwimson take nap?â
âYou sure can,â Jon said as he picked Crimson up. He gave Crimson a hug, petting his back. Crimson cooed and pushed into Jonâs chest more. He yawned and Jon put him down in the deck chair. It had a cushioned seat and Crimson curled up in it.
âTank you for bestest nummies, daddeh. Cwimson happy. Buâ need some sweep. âYAWNâ Cwimson gwad you awe nyu daddeh.â
Crimson had started to fall asleep as Jon petted his mane. Jon was still amazed with his colors. Jon peered over to the herd. Well, he thought, better get this over with. Jon stepped from the deck and walked toward the shed. The herd watched silently. Unsure of what was going on. This âmustah hoominâ who had caused them such great pain had just treated the âmunstah fwuffyâ like it was better than they were. They watched as the man walked again tom the funny little house. Things were definitely uncertain to their littel minds.
END PART 3