“Petunia wuv speciaw fwiend Bwandon su much an’ gib Petunia biggest most bestest hawt happies!!! Petunia nu can wait tu hab so manys bestests tummeh babbehs wif Bwandon!” Petunia closed its eyes and smiled sweetly as it laid on the very soft green grass with Brandon. They were a perfect stallion and mare love story, spending every day together in Skettie Land giving each other hugs, playing freeze tag and red rover with their friends, and nibbling on fresh spaghetti from the Skettie Tree.
“Ohhh, Bwandon wub speciaw fwiend Putunia tu! Wub speciaw fwiend wif aww of Bwandon’s hawt! Su much cited’ an happies tu be Daddeh fow Petunia’s babbehs! Hahah!” Petunia traced the silhouette of a heart with its hoof in the grass, looking into Brandon’s gleaming purple eyes. “Du speciaw fwiend know wat happen before Mummah hab babbehs? Hehehe.” Brandon reared up on its hind legs. “Make enfies wif Petunia! Gon hab su much gud feews! Gud feews! Gon make speciaw pwace hab su muchies gud feews!” Brandon’s tiny penis became erect and its small testicles tensed as Petunia got into the position that every colt instinctively knew and craved. “Ohhh! Ohhh! Enf! Enf! Enf! Gud feews! Gud feews! GUUUUDDD FEEEEEWWWWS!!”
BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEP!
Brandon jolted awake, leaping from an adorable little curl to sitting upright on its hind. The Fluffy rubbed its purple eyes with its two front hoof caps and yawned sleepily. “Mownin’ bwight times awwedy? Bwandon stiww su sweepies. Wan fibe mowe minutes.” Brandon tapped the top of its alarm clock with its hoof and the beeping stopped. It was a Sony Sleepies Time Clock and Alarm, molded in blue and purple plastic and covered with stickers that Brandon applied itself. The round, plastic clock was especially designed with large, flat buttons on its top and an incredibly simple function that a Fluffy could easily be taught how to use. In place of the time, it merely displayed childish artwork of a smiling sun or a sleeping moon.
With another yawn, Brandon felt a pang in its bladder. “Oh! Nee make mownin’ peepees! Bwandon gotta gu!” The Earth stallion stood up on its sleeping mat. In place of a more traditional Fluffy bed, Brandon preferred a Coleman self-inflating sleeping pad. The Fluffy had been rustling around from a particularly sexually charged dream and had tossed around its soft Minions themed fleece blanket. As Brandon went to go urinate in its litterbox, its hoof slipped on something slick and slimy. “Gasp! Oh nu! Bwandon make sweepies gud feew stuff come out gain’! Oh, Bwandon gon be in twoubwe, huuhuu. Gon’ hab num gud feews stuff or gon’ get wowstest sowwie stick!”
The Fluffy frowned, and a few tears pricked the corners of its wet eyes as Brandon started to lick up its own semen off the sleeping mat. Brandon sniffled and blubbered as its little flat, pink tongue lapped up the thick, white slime. The panging in its bladder got worse. “Huuu, stiww rewwy nee make peepees! Stoopie, icky gud feew stuff! Takin’ tu wong tu num, Bwandon haffa make peepees noaw! But……if Gwanpaw see-pwace da gud feews stuff….” Brandon bent its neck back over its shoulder and glanced at the still healing scar on its left flank from the last time it received the sorry stick.
Brandon made cute little pants and huffs as it frantically tried to finish licking up its semen but the slick viscosity of the bodily fluid made it difficult. Thick strands of gooey semen were stuck in its mouth and dripped off its chin. The Fluffy grew more and more agitated as its urge to urinate grew intense and Brandon started bouncing its weight from side to side. Its shriveled up penis started to tremble as Brandon tried desperately to stop its urine, but it couldn’t fight the need anymore. “Nu! Nu! Pwease stop makin’ peepees! Huuuhuuuhuuu! Nuuuu! Huuu! Bad peepees! Huuuhuuhuu!”
A dense puddle of bright yellow urine flowed across the sleeping mat, coagulating with the semen. The urine moved past Brandon’s hooves and stained the few strands of long fluff that grew past its feet and tickled the floor. “Nuu! Huuuhuu, pwease gu way bad peepees, Bwandon reawwy nu wan hab tu num peepees tuuuhuhuhu!” The Fluffy stood in panicked sadness for a few seconds in the puddle of its own pee before tearfully bending its head down and started lapping up the stinky, warm puddle.
The taste of the pee made Brandon gag, it was horribly salty and sweet, with an unbearable bitterness and uncomfortable warmth. Its pink tongue bowled and lapped up great mouthfuls of urine as the doorknob to Brandon’s safe room started to jiggle. “Nu!!! Gwanpaw comin’!! Nee num bad peepees fastaw!” The door swung open and Mike, better known to Brandon as Grandpa, stood in the doorway. He was holding a silver Fluffy food dish with his fingers that was filled with Brandon’s breakfast. Almost immediately the incredibly rancid smell of Fluffy piss and cum hit Mike’s nose.
“Brandon, you little asshole, I got your breakfa—what the fuck?!” The Fluffy stared up at its grandpa with piss and cum dripping off its grullo lips and cheeks. “NU! NU!!! Pwease nu wook! Nu wook Gwanpaw pwease nu wook! Bwandon am gud Fwuffy! Bwandon hab bad peepee accident but PWEASE GWANPAW NU SOWWIE STICK PWEASE!!! Bwandon cweanin’ up accident, Gwanpaw! Pwease, Bwandon nebah make bad peepees gain’ Gwanpaw! Pwease Gwanpaw! BWANDON AM GUD FWUFFY! BWANDON PWOMISE DAT AM GUD FWUFFY! GWANPAW PWEASE!!!”
Mike chucked the silver dish with all his strength at Brandon. The outer rim of the dish smashed into the side of Brandon’s skull and flopped the Fluffy over with a loud and painful humpf. The little brown MeowMix Fluffy Crunchie Chow kibble flew through the air in a great explosion and dramatically clacked against the wall and pelted across the mauve colored carpet. Mike stormed into the juvenile decorated safe room and kicked the flopped over Brandon in the barrel with his sock covered foot. The Fluffy sailed across the safe room and banged hard against the wall, landing back-first. Brandon came down painfully on its model of a Star Wars X-Wing made of Lego bricks. The Lego bricks jabbed and poked at its ribs and stomach.
“Did you piss outside the litterbox, you fucking piece of shit! It stinks in here like the Metrodome piss troff.” Brandon sniffled and sobbed, using its teeth to pull Lego bricks out of its fluff. “Bwandon am weawwy, weawwy sowwie Gwanpaw. Bwandon am su much sowwies! Pwease….Bwandon pwomise am sowwie…pwease nu mowe huwties Gwanpaw……Bwandon stiww wuv Gwanpaw awot.”
Mike picked the Fluffy up by its scruff and slammed it down hard on the white and orange Lego bricks. The bricks jabbed into Brandon’s soft stomach and sensitive testicles, causing it to scream and cry. “SCWEEEEEEE! OWIE! HUWTIES WUMPS! HUUUHUUHU STOP GWANPAW PWEASE STOP! HUUUUUUUUUHUUUUHUUUUU!”
“Dad! What the fuck!” Mike and Brandon both shot their eyes back to the doorway. “You can’t just fucking hit him! He’s a Fluffy, he doesn’t know any better. Ugh, what’s that smell?” Brandon was ashamed and embarrassed, even Daddy was upset at the accident. “Your little boy took a piss on its bed again. I’m not fucking cleaning it up.” Hunter sighed. He was Brandon’s beloved Daddy, and had raised it since the Fluffy was just a newborn chirpy. “Daddeh! Daddeh! Bwandon am su sowwie-ie-ie-ieeeee! Bwandon nu mean to make bad peepees accident, Bwandon swawe!” Hunter kneeled down and gently stroked the maroon mane of the liquid white colored Fluffy, making it coo and babble.
“I’ll take care of it Dad. I’m sorry I said fuck and was yelling and stuff.” Mike rubbed his forehead. “It’s alright, son. I know how much you care about Brandon. And I’m honestly proud of how well you’ve raised him. And I’m really proud of you for following through with your passion with college.” There was a brief awkward silence that was broken when Brandon let out a bubbly fart. Mike tried to change the vibe. “Heh, so I take it your participating in senior skip day? Atta boy! You’re keeping the family tradition alive!” They both laughed. “Haha, yeah! Who goes to the last day of their senior year of high school anyway?” Mike knew he had to ask the awkward question. “Are you going to spend the day with Brandon? Or……”
Hunter scratched Brandon under its chin. Its grullo skin was soft and loose on his finger tips, like giving a cat chin scritches. “Yeah, I think we’ll have a full play day. He deserves one last fun time together.” Under its breath, in a quiet voice Brandon muttered “…wast?” Mike stepped closer to pick up the overturned food dish, making Brandon cower. The middle aged man looked down at the snotting, weeping, cowering shitrat at his feet. “Hey, Brandon. I’m sorry I abused you this morning, ok?” Brandon nodded. “Bwandon fowgib Gwanpaw. Gwanpaw was jus’ angie bout’ Bwandon’s bad peepee accident. Bwandon was angie at Bwandon tu! Pwomise….nu du mowe bad peepees! Wuv uo Gwanpaw!” Mike nodded back at the white and maroon stallion and left the safe room.
“So, Brandon. How would you like to have an all day play day?” The Fluffy immediately sprung onto its hind legs and started performing a happy dancie. “Yay! Yay! Aww day pway day! Bwandon nebah get tu pway aww day! Dis am bestest happies ebah, Daddeh! Bwandon su ‘cited! What we gon’ pway, Daddeh?” The dancie had exhausted Brandon, who plopped back down on all fours hooves with a cute little huff and a few drops of sugary sweat. “Whatever you want to do, buddy. This day is all about Brandon and whatever he wants.” The little stallion couldn’t contain its excitement. “Weawwy, weawwy Daddy? Gon’ pway whatebah Bwandon wan du? Yaaay! Dis am bestest day ebah! Gon’ wun in da pawk an’ gon’ watch Bwuey an’ gon’ pway hopscotch an’ gon visit awwww Bwandon’s fwiends at daycawe an’ an’ an’…an’ gon num aw da McDonawd’s dat Bwandon can num!” Hunter smiled and ruffled up Brandon’s mane. “Haha, sure buddy. We can do all that stuff.” Brandon tapped its front hooves together. “…an gon’ num McDonawd’s?” “Of course, if you want some we can get some.”
Brandon simply couldn’t stop smiling, its big eyes gleaming. Hunter led the 10 inch tall Fluffy out of its safe room and into the bathroom. “Am bathie time, Daddeh? Nu tu hawt, pwease!”. With a few adorable hops Brandon slid into the bathtub, almost immediately scooting along on its ass to clutch its Superman rubber duck between its teeth. Hunter filled the tub with lukewarm water up shallowly, barely filling the water past Brandon’s knees to prevent any drowning anxiety. Brandon began to splash and play with blissful glee as Hunter added in a few drops of L’Oreal Kids Fluffy Safe Bubble Bath Solution. “Yaaaay! Haha! Yaay! Bwandon am habbin’ bubbwe bathie!”
Hunter went through the rest of their morning routine together, gently drying Brandon off, combing its fluff, and brushing its cavity riddled teeth. “Feew su pwetty, Daddeh! Hab such happies!” Hunter smiled, and held up two bottles of Aveeno Fluffy Cologne in front of it. Brandon couldn’t read, but had memorized what fragrance came from what colored bottle. The Fluffy nudged the bottle in Hunter’s left hand with its muzzle. “Wan smeww wike fwowuhs! Bwandon wan fwowuh smeww!” “Sure thing dude, now, puff your cheeks and close your eyes!” In the most cute manner possible, Brandon inhaled a loud gasp of deep breath and held it in with its cheeks puffed out like a child while tightly closing its eyelids. Hunter sprayed a few puffs of the cologne over Brandon’s little 10 inch long body, giving the Fluffy a pleasant smell like fresh flowers and grass.
Brandon cutely trotted into the living room where Mike was watching the daily Fox News report at a high volume. The Fluffy nervously kept its head down and eyes low as it waited for Daddy to put his shoes on. Hunter grabbed two identically matching baseball caps off the rack by the door. He slipped his on over his wispy hockey wing hair and gently slipped on Brandon’s hat as well. It was perfectly sized for a Fluffy’s head, with two holes for Brandon’s floppy ears and an enlarged space in the back to slip its maroon mane through. The hats were both RealTree camouflage with the logo for the Minnesota Twins embroidered on it. “Ready to go, Brandon?” “Wes, wes! We gon’ hab bestest happies most fun pwayday ebah!!! Wan gu! Wan gu!” Brandon bounced and hopped in place with happiness as Hunter said goodbye to Grandpa.
— Chapter 2
Brandon did a happy little bounce as its Daddy opened the passenger door to his pickup truck for it. It’s litte hooves made gentle clacking sounds against the pavement. Using insanely cute little hops and gentle grunts, Brandon first hopped up onto the truck’s running board before making another hop into the interior, and with a third and final hop the Fluffy bounced up onto the passenger seat, scuttling its back legs against the cloth to get some traction to help lift its butt up and over. It made Brandon feel like such a big Fluffy that Daddy let it climb up into the truck by itself, it felt quite humiliated being picked up and manhandled like the toy that it was. Hunter helped Brandon buckle into the Graco two-point Fluffy car seat.
The Fluffy sat upright in the seat with the harness across its barrel and buckled in near its groin, with a special modesty cover on the buckle that safely and comfortably covered up Brandon’s penis and testicles. Brandon was only just a little scared at the sound of the vroom vroom monster firing up, but tried to be brave and pretend the loud noise didn’t scare it. “What should we listen to buddy?”. Brandon flopped its front legs in the car seat and started to sing the most ear rape inducing and horrifically off-key version of Gone Country by Alan Jackson.
“She’s gone countwy, wook at dem’ boots,
She’s gone countwy, back tu hew woots,
She’s gone countwy, a nu kina suit,
She’s gone countwy, hewe she comes!!!”
“Alright, alright, Brandon. Just…stop singing please. We can listen to the country station.” The pickup truck puttered out of the driveway in reverse before heading off down the street. Brandon looked so incredibly cute, sitting in its little Fluffy sized car seat and wearing its little camo Fluffy baseball cap. It closed its eyes with an unwavering smile as it leaned its small little front right leg out the window the same way Daddy did, nodding its head to its favorite country songs and watching the many pretty birds flying between the trees. Hunter looked over at the little creature.
Am I really getting emotional right now? Over a goddamn shitrat? Fuck, man……it’s my shitrat. I love him…… at least I think I still love him. But I’m…I’m too old now! Barely even a teenager anymore. I’ll be 20, it’s time to move on. If the guys at the shop saw me getting teary over a fucking shitrat…oh, Brandon. I’m sorry, buddy.
Hunter wiped a single tear from his eye as the pickup truck pulled into the parking lot of the Wolfram Daycare, Love, and Play Center. It was Friday, and Brandon typically stayed home with Grandpa on weekends. But today was a special occasion for Brandon and it was going to pop inside for a surprise visit. It was only an hour, and though it was typically frowned upon, Mrs.Grabitzsky was very understanding when Hunter explained the situation. Brandon was allowed to play in the daycare safe room with the other Fluffies for a while, and while unfortunately none of its usual friends were there it was more than overjoyed to meet some new ones. Brandon played trucks with a purple Earth stallion, enjoyed a tea party with some mares, and even happily played pretend with a little mint foal.
With a tearful goodbye from Brandon to all its new friends, they piled back into the truck where Hunter drove to the Fluffy park. Brandon was so excited it nearly flopped face first onto the parking lot trying to hurriedly get out of its car seat, but Hunter caught it with a loving hug. Daddy unfolded the Hotel Transylvania 2 blanket and spread it over the grass, an impromptu headquarters for Brandon to periodically come to and rest on in between playing. There were all Brandon’s favorite snacks laid out for it to nibble on whenever it wanted, with a dish of cold water and a soft pillow for naps. Brandon did it all, mingling with nearly every Fluffy it could lay its purple eyes on. As Hunter chatted with some girls dressed in midriffs, Brandon played tag, hide-and-seek, red rover, kick the can, even duck, duck, goose.
Obedient to its training and ever fearful of the sorry stick, which Hunter always carried with him, Brandon never left Daddies sight, never played too rough, and was never a sore loser when the other team won a game of simon says.
The other Fluffies in the park were amazed by Brandon’s baseball cap. “Pwetty hat!” a salmon and lime green pegasus proclaimed. “New fwiend Bwandon hab coow hat! Wook wike a deew huntew! Sunfwowew’s Daddeh am deew huntew.” said another unicorn. As Brandon ran in circles with innocent glee, it couldn’t help but stop to look at Daddy, who smiled and waved. Brandon smiled back. “Sunfwowew! Sunfwowew! Wook! Bwandon an’ Bwandon’s Daddeh am weawin’ same hat! Am so coow!”. After a whole afternoon of playing, singing, doing dancie, and lots and lots of laughter, Brandon was exhausted. The white and maroon Fluffy tiredly flopped over onto the blanket with a haff and started to lap up the rest of the water.
“You look tired little guy. Have you been having fun?” Brandon took a second to nibble a bite of a Keebler cheese and peanut butter cracker. Orange crumbs and peanut butter smears stuck to the corners of Brandon’s mouth. “Buh Daddeh…haff…haff…nu wan fun tu end! Wan’ pway fowevew!”
“You can barely stand up, bro. And nothing lasts forever……uh, anyway. It’s cleanup time now. Do you remember the cleanup time song?” Brandon threw its front legs down in a huf. “Nu wan singie cweanup songie! Wan keep pwayin! Keep pwayin! Keep pwayin! Huuuuuhuuu! Huuuuu-hu-huuuu!” Brandon fell into a temper tantrum. It flopped onto its side and started to erratically roll and thrash about. It messed up the blanket, pulling and ruffling it in every direction. Brandon spilled the water dish and in its commotion it rolled onto its back and crushed its Keebler crackers into crumbs. “Nu faiw! Nebah get tu pway dis wong! Huuuu! Wan keep pwayin!” Hunter rubbed his forehead, he looked just like his dad. “Okay, Brandon, that’s enough. You’re crabby because you’re tired. I’ll just clean up. Let’s go!”
Brandon refused to listen. The sniffling Fluffy cried and started to shit on itself, ruining the blanket with its thick and lumpy poop. “Ew! Brandon that’s enough! You’re getting crap everywhere, let’s go, now!” Brandon made a raspberry and puffed out its cheeks. “Nu! Nu cawe Daddeh! Bwandon gon keep pwayin! Nu cawe dat bein’ bad Fwuffy! WAN PWAY MOWE!!” Hunter clutched at the grass and picked up his sorry stick. Brandon was drawing a crowd now, both human and Fluffy, who started staring at the hysterical Earth colt. “BRANDON! THAT! IS! ENOUGH!” Hunter raised his arm high and brought it down hard. The sorry stick was an expensive solid maple wood rod with an aluminum core, fifteen inches in length and with a thick diameter. Brandon’s flank, just above its rear hind leg, made a loud, fleshy “plap” as the sorry stick made contact. Hunter hit the Fluffy with enough force that the pain traveled through the muscle and dispersed across the bone. “SCWWWWWWWWEEE!! NU WIKE! NU WIKE! BWANDON SOWWIE! PWEASE DADDEH NU WIKE SOWWIE STICKIE!! NUUUUUU!”
Hunter hit it again, and again, and again.
He didn’t stop beating the ever loving shit out of Brandon with the sorry stick. He hit it in the barrel, smacked it in the flank. Hunter smashed Brandon in the teeth, hit the bottom of its hoovess, and jabbed the Fluffy in the stomach. Brandon cried, wailed, and wouldn’t stop doing scared peeing making an even worse mess. The crowd went silent in awkward tension. Hunter panted short breaths, Brandon’s sugary blood dripping off the lacquered maple.
The Fluffy had been hit so hard that the blows caused several lacerations across its entire, small body. Brandon’s well groomed and still freshly bathed white fluff was now becoming stained a copper orange from its bleeding cuts. A thick stream of blood flowed from underneath a wisdom tooth that had been knocked loose and dripped down Brandon’s grullo colored lips. Its hooves were swollen, a horrible red-purple color. The stallion was covered in crumbs from crushed crackers and cookies that Brandon was only just a few moments ago nibbling on without a care in the world mixed in with disgusting squished turds and piss ground into its fluff.
“Brandon. Go to the truck and wait by the tire, like I taught you. Now, please.” In a great commotion the Fluffy got back onto its feet. It made a squeaky yelp as it rested its body weight on its swollen hooves. It could barely waddle a few steps before breaking out in tears. “Huuuuuu. Daddeh…hoofies weawwy huwtie and owie, nu can du wawkies. Pwease Daddeh, gib Brandon good uppies and cawwy tu vwoom vwoom twuckie?” Brandon sighed. “No. Get to the fucking truck and think about what you did. I have to clean up your shit now before I get fined for killing the soil. Brandon was completely defeated. “Daddeh…Bwandon wuv uo awot.” “Go! Now!!!”
Hunter shouted and it made Brandon jump, landing painfully back down on its swollen hooves. With eyes full of dripping tears, a mouth full of blood, a nose full of bubbling snot, and a coat of fluff full of shit and food crumbs, Brandon painfully waddled slowly back to Daddy’s truck. It couldn’t even keep its head up as it grew further away from its Daddy until finally it had reached the black rock. This black rock was different from the one in front of Brandon’s house, the vroom vroom monsters were slow and quiet and were observant, staying far away from the pastel pink stripe of paint that was designated specifically for Fluffies to walk on. Only bad Fluffies walked outside the pretty pink rock, and bad Fluffies got eaten by vroom vroom monsters.
Brandon pinched the defiled Hotel Transylvania 2 blanket by each of its four corners and scooped the soggy, shitty blanket up. He tied the corners in a knot so all the mess and trash Brandon made wouldn’t fall out. Adam Sandler’s Dracula character smiled innocently on the fabric as a wet stain of shit spread across his eyes. Hunter underhand tossed the mess into the Waste Management dumpster in the back of the parking lot. He grabbed the community soil disinfectant and grass growth minerals hanging off a pink painted metal post available for all park goers to use in case a Fluffy has an accident. Brandon had burnt a spot of grass into a crusty, bone dry yellow from some of its shit spilling onto it. Hunter, annoyed and tired, washed off all the feces and revitalized the grass with some minerals the best he could. The acidity of the mushed turds had already done their damage, Hunter just tried to mitigate it.
Hunter reached into his pocket and clicked the unlock button on his truck’s key fob. There laid Brandon. It was sitting in a fluff loaf with its legs tucked under itself by the front right tire of the truck. The blood from its loose tooth had finally stopped bleeding, but the Fluffy was loafing in a fresh puddle of piss that was slowly flowing across the parking lot and into the storm drain in a long trail. Hunter opened the passenger door and let Brandon hop in, in its usual fashion. He couldn’t help but gag as he buckled the Fluffy into its car seat. Brandon completely reeked, smelling like a pile of rotten peaches covered in six handfuls of sugar combined with wet pennies soaked in lemonade.
The filth covering Brandon smudged all over its car seat and made it itchy and uncomfortable. As Hunter fired the truck back up Brandon bit at an ich on its barrel, grinding mushy shit and strands of fluff between its teeth. The ride home was awkward as fuck. Both sat in silence while Eric Church quietly played from the radio.
Jumping Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick, Hunter. He thought to himself. What the fuck is wrong with you, man? Look at him, covered in shit, still crying, I think I really hurt him. I shouldn’t have hit him. He’s thrown tantrums before and I never overreacted like this.
Brandon was suckling on its swollen shit-covered front hoof like a foal, sugary drool and liquid shit dripping off its lips. Hunter grabbed an old Arby’s napkin from a stack he kept in the door storage compartment and reached over to wipe it off, causing Brandon to flinch and reel back in terror. Brandon started to cower in its car seat as its Daddy gingerly pulled the hoof out of its mouth and wiped its lips.
Ah Christ, he’s terrified of me now. Some last day together. Poor guy. This isn’t going to make tomorrow any easier.
The awkward silence was broken by Brandon. “Daddeh……can stiww num McDonawd’s?”
Oh shit, I completely forgot. Bar none, McDonald’s was Brandon’s favorite thing to eat, second only to its instinctual love of spaghetti. The greasy fast food was Brandon’s special treat only for special occasions, like its birthday and Christmas. It gave Brandon horrific diarrhea and the infamously low metabolism of Fluffies meant significant weight gain if not fed to it sparingly. Hunter flicked on the turn signal abruptly and made a last minute right turn off the highway exit, making Brandon wobble in its car seat. “Of course little buddy! We can get McDonald’s. I’ll even let you order all by yourself! How does that sound?” Hunter spoke in an obviously forced and overly cheery tone. He desperately wanted Brandon to overlook getting its ass beat in public.
Brandon sniffled. “Weawwy?! Can weawwy gu tu McDonawd’s an’ Bwandon can owdew aww by sewf wike big Fwuffy?! Weawwy weawwy?!” The dirty Fluffy was doing dancie in its car seat and sang a happy song to itself. “Gon’ get McDonaaaaawd’s, gon’ get McDonaaaaawd’s.” Brandon’s eyes lit up as it saw the golden arches appear in the windshield. The little Fluffy was fidgeting and squirming as Hunter parked the truck, eager to go inside. As he unbuckled the car seat Brandon practically face planted with how quickly it flopped out of it. Brandon stood on its hind legs on the truck seat and scratched at the passenger door panel.
“Come on, Daddeh! Wets gu, wets gu! Bwandon wan num on Happies Meaw! Oh, Bwandon hope tu get bestest toysie in Happies Meaw!” Brandon started pawing at the door handle but it’s flat and broad hoof couldn’t grip it.
At least the swelling went down, they’re still so red though…I shouldn’t have hit his hooves like that. “Daddeh!! Wat wong? Wai nu open doow su Bwandon can num McDonawd’s?!”
“Arnt you forgetting something bud?” Brandon nervously tapped its hooves. “Nu…Bwandon nu fowget ting.” “You’re covered in shit! You have to wash off first and put your diaper on.” Hunter had parked his truck in a row of spots marked with a sign that read “Parking for Fluffy Accompanied Customers Only.” The spots were right in front of the restaurant to assure no Fluffies were run over crossing the parking lot. They were extra large to accommodate the Fluffy diaper changing station and washing basin that was installed in each spot. Fluffies were only allowed in the building with its guardian, were required to wear a diaper inside at all times, and had to be washed off before coming inside. This was controversial practice from the McDonald’s Corporation, but Fluffy owners and their Fluffies were a highly exploited and monetized market that even fast food joints cashed in on.
“Nu, Daddeh pwease! Bwandon nu wan scawy wash. Tu hawt and tu woud fow Bwandon fwoppy wittwe heaw-pwaces. Bwandon jus weaw diapey stead’ an’ pwomise be gud?” Hunter didn’t even blink. “No. You threw a huge fit like a Chirpy baby and made us both look like fools! You have to wash or were going home.” Brandon started to cry. “Buh…buh…buh…buh Daddeh…” “Brandon, what is your problem today? Why are you being so bad?” Brandon couldn’t hide it anymore. It’s tears flowed and it babbled and whined. “Wai Daddeh du tawkies bout’ Bwandon’s wast fun times? Huuu! Huuu! Am Bwandon guin’ way? Huuuu! Am Daddeh angies at Bwandon? HUUUU! HUU-HUUU-HUUUUUUUUU!!” Brandon’s stomach gurgled and it blasted diarrhea onto the truck’s bench seat.
Hunter just took a deep breath. He gritted his teeth, gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles and counted to five. Brandon sat down on its hind legs in the soppy diarrhea puddle that was quickly soaking into the fabric. It held its front hoofs over its closed, teary eyes. “Wai Daddeh tawkies dat? Wai Daddeh huwt Bwandon? Wai, wai?” Hunter put a hand on Brandon’s head. “Brandon, look at me, okay? This is important.” The Fluffy wiped its tears and looked at its Daddy. “Do you know what school is, Brandon?” It did a little bounce in its poop puddle. “Wes! Schoow am weaw Fwuffies gu tu leawn an’ be smawtest bestest Fwuffy!”
“And you know that I’m in school, right Brandon?” It nodded yes. “Wes, Daddeh am gu tu…tu high schoow! Bwandon awmost nu membew wat it cawwed.” “Well, listen Brandon, humans, after they finish going to high school they go to college.” Brandon put a hoof on its little head. “Wat cowwege?” “It’s like a school for grown-ups.” Brandon made another filthy bounce in its poop puddle, splashing specs of shit against the dashboard. “Buh Daddeh am gwown-up! Siwwy, Daddeh am nu babbeh.” Hunter couldn’t help but laugh as he rolled down the truck’s windows to air out the rancid smell of Brandon’s shit. “It makes me happy you think I’m already grown up, bud. Heh, but you just wouldn’t understand little guy. Humans aren’t like Fluffies. Just because we look like we are grown up, doesn’t always mean we are. I have to go to college to do that. And part of that means moving out of my Dad’s house and moving into a dorm.”
Immediately, Brandon began doing a sitting dancie in its shit puddle, getting shit everywhere. “WAY! BWANDON AM FINAWWY MOOBIN’ WAY FWOM MEANIE GWANPAW! WAAAY! SU CITED’ TU BE WIFF DADDEH AWW BWIGHT TIMES!! DUIN’ HAPPIES DANCIE DADDEH, WOOK!” Hunter grabbed Brandon by the neck scruff and dangled it in the air, but the Fluffy kept doing dancie even while hanging. “You’re not coming with Brandon. Tomorrow you’re being sent off to a shelter and you’ll get a new owner.” Almost immediately Brandon went silent and limp. It loosely dangled by its scruff as its limbs flopped down. And just as quickly that silence was replaced by a hysterical crying.
“NUUUUUUUUHHHUHUHU! PWEASE NU WEAVE BWANDON!! WAI DADDEH WEAVIN! NU FAIW! NU FAIW NU FAIW NU FAIW!!! PWEASE NU MAKE BWANDON GU TU SHEWTEW! WUV OU’ DADDEH, NU WAN OU’ WEAVE! HHHHHUUUUUUUU!!!” The Fluffy’s lips were curled into a pathetic and defeated frown, its eyelids wrinkled from being shut so tight. “Brandon, I’m sorry. I really am. But…the dorms don’t allow Fluffies. And if I’m being honest I just don’t really like you much anymore.” Brandon gasped with its whole mouth and squished it’s hoofs against its cheeks. “Nu. Nu, nu, nu PWEASE NU TAWKIES DAT! PWEASE NU TAWKIES DAT! HUUUUUUUUUU! WOWEST HEAWT HUWTIES!! BWANDON WUV DADDEH SU MUCHIES!!! WAI NU WUV BWANDON NU MOWE? AM BAD? AM BWANDON BAD??? NU BWEEV! DIS NU WEAL, DIS AM SWEEPIES DWEAMY!!! HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!”
Hunter still dangled Brandon by its scruff. “You were a great Fluffy! And you made me so happy, Brandon. But the moment has passed, man, and I don’t really have time for you anymore. You’re just a toy Brandon, a plaything my Dad got me for Christmas four years ago. Now I’m too old for toys. You’re going to make a new daddy happy tomorrow. Brandon sniffed a loud and wet strand of snot into its nose and thrashed and flailed dangling between Hunter’s pointer, index, and thumb. A nearly two inch long turd of soupy wet poop slid out of its ass and slapped down onto the truck’s already ruined bench seat. “NU WAN NEW DADDEH! WAN HUNTEW! WUV HUNTEW WIF AWWOF BWANDON HEAWT AN SOUW!!! HUUUUUUUU-HU-HUUUUUUU! PWEASE NU DU DISS!! PWEASE NU DU DIS TU BWANDON NU CAN TAKE THE HEAWT HURTIES!! DIS NU FAIW!! HUUUU!!!”
“You ruined my fucking truck, Brandon. I really hate you, to be honest.” Before Brandon could continue screaming, Hunter released his fingers and the crying Fluffy splattered into the awful mushy shit pile on the fabric of the bench seat just next to its car seat. Hunter put his palm on the back of Brandon’s soft head and forced its face into the waste. “I’m changing my mind. You don’t get McDonald’s anymore. Now eat your shit.” “B-b-buh Dadde-” Hunter grabbed Brandon by the throat and squeezed while yelling inches away from its snot and tear covered face. “EAT YOUR FUCKING POOP RIGHT NOW! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU BRANDON!!!”
Brandon could only gag and weakly grasp its front hoof at Hunter’s wrist. Just as the stallion’s eyes were about to roll back he released his grip and Brandon landed face first into the slop. The Fluffy was hyperventilating and its pupils dilated. Brandon hurled a wave of green vomit from stress past its teeth and out its mouth. Hunter balled a fist and slammed it down onto Brandon’s skull. “Eat! Now!” “Yes Daddeh. Brandon wuv ou. Gon num da poopies nao. W-wuv ou.” Brandon spoke slowly and calmly while still snotting and tearing up heavily. Inside of Brandon’s small and almost completely smooth brain, the Fluffy was deeply traumatized.
Am bad? Wai dis happen tu Bwandon? Am dis faiw? Am dis wat Bwandon weawwy desewve? Maybe nebah was gud. Was….was Bwandon aways bad? Desewve dis! Desewve num poopies cos Bwandon am poopies Fwuffy!
Hunter sat in silence, with his arms crossed, eyes staring at Brandon with raging hatred for an hour and a half straight. He watched as Brandon took wet, mushy mouthfuls of shit and vomit and slowly and agonizingly chewed and swallowed each one. Brandon chewed with its mouth open, the sensitive and soft grullo skin of its cheeks puffed out in lumpy blobs as the Fluffy stuffed as much shit into its mouth as it could. Each chew made a sloppy, squelching squirting smack.
Stiww wuv Daddeh, huuu. Wai stiww wuv Daddeh? Wai nu stupie heawt jus wuv difint daddeh? Wai Brandon hafta be wike dis? Wai haffa wuv Huntew? Wai Bwandon nu can eben say Daddeh weaw namie wiff out feewin’ wong? Wai? Wai? Wai?
Brandon sobbed quietly with its tail hung low as it chewed and swallowed the last bit of shit. The bench seat was marked with a great wet brown stain that would never come out. Diarrhea had already seeped through, saturating the stuffing and rusting the coils. Brandon sat on its hind legs in the middle of it. “Aw dun, Daddeh. Huuuu, Bwandon dun nummin’ aw da poopies an’ sickies wawa. Tummeh su huwtie nao.” Hunter picked Brandon up by its scruff again and roughly belted it into its car seat. The modesty patch was uncomfortably pinning Brandon’s penis down at a sharp downwards angle pressed into its testicles, making the earth stallion squirrely and squirmy. Hunter fired the truck up and got his phone out. He texted his dad.
Hey dad
Whats up son??
Well I guess there’s a problem
You guess? Hunter are you in trouble?
No, it’s with Brandon
Oh for fucks sake son
Dad today has been a shitshow and a half. He had a temper tantrum meltdown at the park. He shit all over the Ranger and now I guess this year’s new Christmas gift is a new bench.
Yeah, I’m sure Santa has perfect condition 89’ Ranger upholstery in his sled. You know it’s your own fault Hunter. So go ahead and give me the old “fuck you dad” speech already
No, you are right Dad it is. I don’t regret raising Brandon but I was still just a kid when you got him for me. It’s a goddamn toy, and I’m sick of him. I’m taking him to Dick’s house.
You know he won’t have a happy ending there. You sure? Look son I mean yes you are to old now to play with shitrats now but you know you did love him a long time. You guys had a lot of fun memories together. Isn’t that kind of the point of Fluffies, good childhood memories together or whatever that book you got me said?
Hunter glanced up from his phone. Brandon was completely and utterly demoralized and traumatized. It sat with its head staring straight into the dashboard. Brandon limply tapped its front two hooves together and very quietly was humming a tune to itself in an incredibly sad and pathetic manner. Hunter turned his truck climate controls to maximum heat and adjusted the passenger vent to blow hot air directly into Brandon’s face. It’s lips started to chap and it’s eyes dried out. “Waaa! Stop, pwease! Windy am tu hawt! Tu hawt! Daddeh am duin’ on puwpose!! STOP!”
Dad I just want to put this stupid toy behind me and grow up
Yeah yeah I remember being 19 too. Thank God I at least kept my Optimus Prime
Brandon isn’t worth shit, unlike that
Hey son, he’s your Fluffy. You think I’ll cry that he’s gone? Do whatever you want with him but don’t miss the game tonight! Ohio baby!
Hunter put the truck in drive and drove off.
Hey Dick it’s Hunter I’m Mike’s son
HEY OF COURSE I KNOW HUNTER! YOU DONT NORMALLY TEXT ME WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU?
I have a shitrat I need to get rid of.
SAY NO MORE!!! DO YOU HAVE IT CONTAINED?
He’s in his car seat
THATS PERFECT HUNTER JUST LEAVE IT IN THERE. I AM FREE ALL AFTERNOON
I’m actually on my way now!
OKAY
— Chapter 3
Brandon didn’t recognize this part of the town. The trees were different, the houses were different, the Fluffies playing on the playground were different. Brandon was afraid to speak. “Daddeh, wewe goin’?”
The Fluffy’s head bobbled as the truck went over a curb and into a driveway. “Wewe dis? Wewe takin’ Bwandon? Wai duin’ dis??!!!” Hunter stepped out of the trunk and was greeted by an old man. They shook hands and exchanged a brief conversation. Brandon started to tremble, its cracked and chapped lips chatted from fear.
Wai Daddeh du dis? Bwandon know am gud! Dis shouwdn’t happen!
The old man opened the passenger door of the truck. He was instantly taken aback by the foul stench of Fluffy shit. “Time to go Brandon. Wave goodbye to Daddy.” Dick started unfastening the car seat from the bench with Brandon still strapped in. Dick wore blue latex gloves over his hands.
“Wait! Wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait! Nu wike! What am goin’ on? Wet gu of Bwandon! Wet gu! Dis am nu wight! Am nu faiw! Bwandon am been gud whowe wife! It am dummeh Huntew who am bad! Take Huntew! Nu take Bwandon!” Dick took a black Swingline stapler out from his jacket pocket and abruptly stapled Brandon’s lips together with a ‘cla-clink’ of the office tool. They were caked in dried up shit, and had become horribly cracked, red, and chapped from the air vent. The grullo skin bled small trickles from underneath each staple. “You really need to learn when to shut the fuck up, shitrat. It’s going to make the rest of your day a lot easier.” said Dick.
The two men exchanged some final words and with that, Dick carried Brandon, still strapped into its car seat, into his garage. Brandon threw a hoof out forward and desperately tried to reach for its Daddy. Brandon’s last sight of Hunter faded away as the garage door closed between them. That would be the last time the two ever saw each other.
Sabe Bwandon Daddeh! Bwandon su sowwie cawwed ou am meanie! Pwease sabe Bwandon! Stiww wuv Daddeh!!!
Dick dropped the car seat onto a long table with a stainless steel top that was along a wall lined with many instruments on a pegboard and on top of a cabinet with dozens of slide out drawers and doors. The Fluffy started panicking as gazed at the many tools that Dick owned. It’s eyes darted around, and it grasped and smashed its hooves at its belts restraining it in its seat. A sudden rush of piss dribbled out through the fabric of the modesty patch. “Let’s get those staples out.” He tied a butcher’s apron across his waist.
Using a tweezer, Dick grabbed the flat end of the staple and yanked upwards with quick might. Leaving a strand of blood behind it, the staple ripped flesh and tore off some lip as Dick removed it. Brandon violently thrashed in its seat, able to only make a muffled scream. Dick removed the other staple in an identical fashion. Now Brandon could let out a piercing scream. It started hyperventilating again. “Sabe Bwandon! Sabe Bwandon, Daddeh! Su sowwies! Huuuuuu! Su sowwie fow pawk! Huuuhuuu! Sabe!”. Dick took the ends of the tweezer and stuck them in one of each of Brandon’s snot filled nostrils. He pulled upwards and painfully yanked the sensitive cartilage and flesh upwards. Brandon wailed in agony and pissed it self again. “You’re in my house now, shit-for-brains, and I’m going to hurt you in as many ways as possible.”
Brandon’s heart started to pound. “SABE BWANDON! SABE BWANDON! NU WAN HUWTIES AN’ OWIES!” The stallion started to struggle hard in its car seat. It thrashed and rocked the seat against the stainless steel. “Let’s start with a little sample, to warm you up and accustom you to the pain.” Dick methodically put the tweezer back in its proper drawer and grabbed a Houdini 2-Step Zippity wine corkscrew. Brandon’s eyes were fixated on the tool as Dick unfolded the corkscrew. Brandon started to stress cry. “Wat am dat? WAT AM DAT? Nu wike! Wat am mistah duin wit dat? WAT AM DAT??? HUUUUUU!”
Dick used the pointer and middle fingers of his left hand to tightly pinch the area just above Brandon’s front left hoof. He held it out steady and straight, being able to feel the stressed and terrified Fluffy try to reel its hoof away without any affect. Dick pressed the tip of the corkscrew against the very soft and sensitive hoof. Like all Fluffies, its center was partially raised in the shape of a heart. “Ready?” he asked. Brandon rapidly shook its head back and forth, flinging tears and snot onto the table. “Pwease nu gib huwties! Nu in Bwandon’s widdwe hoofie! Nu can wun an’ pway with hoofie huwties! Wewe am dis pwace, mistah? Wewe am Daddeh! Pwease wet Bwandon gu!”
“I’m interpreting that as a yes.” Dick began to slowly drive the corkscrew through the weak and malleable heart-shaped layer of keratin on the bottom of Brandon’s foot. The twisting screw started boring through sensitive nerves, capillary blood vessels, and torqued the muscles in Brandon’s foot into shredded fibers.
“SCCCCWWWEEEEEEEEEE!!!
STOP! SU MUCH HOOFIE HUWTIES! PWEASE! IT TU MUCHIES! IT HUWTIES TU MUCHIES!!” There was a brief moment of resistance against Dick’s hand as the tip of the corkscrew hit the ends of Brandon’s short Pastern bone, before it easily pierced through the bone and into the marrow. Brandon started to convulse in its car seat from the unbearable pain. “PWWWWEEEEAASE! PWEASE STOP! STTTTTOOOOOP! BEGGIN’ MISTAH! AHHHHUHUHUHU! DIS TU MUCH! DIS TU MUCH FOW BWANDON TU HANDWE!” The corkscrew was completely inside Brandon’s hoof now and Dick couldn’t drive it any deeper. “Alright. I’ll take it out for you, you fucking disgusting shit covered bastard.” Dick adjusted his grip and ripped the corkscrew out with one movement. It left a spraying trail of pink marrow and red blood mixed with white-colored patches of fluff covered flesh behind it.
“SSSSSSSSCCCCWWWWAAAAAAAAA!!”
Brandon instantly vomited all over itself from the pain. It took breaths so big it’s barrel was rising and falling visibly. It couldn’t look away from its mutilated hoof. It was shredded into three split strips of fluff covered flesh that was bleeding heavily, with a horrid and deep hole torn into its center. “How do you feel?” Brandon couldn’t stop panting. “Nee wun way! Nee wun way tu Gwanpaw! Wan gu home! Stoopie cawseat! Fow onwy poopie chiwpeh babbehs!!!” Brandon bent its neck down and started to frantically chew at one of the belts on the two-point keeping it held into the car seat. It nibbled while making lots of nom noises and getting saliva all over the belt. “Come on!! Stoopie dummeh teef! Nee num!” Brandon started chewing faster. The belt was dripping with thick saliva drips. A huge piss stream flowed down between Brandon’s legs and on to the tabletop.
Dick casually put the corkscrew away. After tapping his chin for a moment, he opened another drawer labeled capsaicin. It contained a huge variety of spicy seasonings, hot sauces, and peppers. Dick wiggled his fingers and grabbed a Carolina Reaper. The bumpy and wrinkly orange pepper stood out on the blue pallet of Dicks glove. He set the pepper down on the table and rummaged through a surgical supplies drawer and took out sutures and grabbed a roll of black Gorilla Tape off the pegboard. “Nu! Num fastaw! Huuuuuuuuu! STOOPIE TEETHIES! NUM BETTAW! NEE ESCAPE!”
Using his thumb, Dick shoved the Carolina Reaper into the bleeding hole in Brandon’s foot. He gripped the mutilated leggy and squeezed as hard as possible, crushing the pepper into mush inside the wound. Brandon stopped chewing on the vinyl belt and instantly screamed. “BUWNIES!!! SCCWEEEE! SCCCWWWEEEEEE! IT HAWT! IT AM TU HAWT! PWEASE MAKE BUWNIES STOP! MISTAH PWEASE MAKE BUWNIES HUWTIES STOP!! HAWT! HAWT!!!
SSCCWWWWWWWEEEEEEE!!!”
Brandon desperately tried to pull its hoof away but couldn’t as Dick had it tightly restrained in one hand. The grullo skin of Brandon’s muzzle was normally a silver slate gray, but it was now rapidly turning beat red. “SSSCCCWWWAAAAAAA!!! WAWA!! NEE WAWA ON WEGGIE!! PWEASE MAKE BUWNIES STOP! PWEASE MISTAH! BWANDON WIWW NUM POOPIES JUS PWEASE MAKE BUWNIES STOP!!!
SSSSCCCCCWWWWWWWWEEEEEE!!”
It’s eyes became bloodshot and practically bulged out of their tear filled sockets and Brandon’s now beat red nostrils leaked snot as if it was a hose. The capsaicin began to make Brandon’s jaw tingle and go numb, it felt its pulse inside its head and heard its rapid heartbeat in its floppy ears. With immaculate skill, one handed, Dick sutured the flaps of skin back together with the pepper mush still inside. The seeds were embedded into Brandon’s torn muscles and the juice saturated into its bloodstream. Brandon thrashed its head erratically as Dick finished the procedure. Brandon’s face was still beat red. It was drooling involuntarily and making a sloppy mess all over its barrel. The stallion made a foul splattering of diarrhea into its car seat, causing it to also drip down off Brandon’s hind legs and form a puddle of waste that the thrashing car seat splashed in.
Dick tightly wrapped several layers of Gorilla Tape over the sutured foot until it was reasonably thick enough for Brandon to walk on. The leggy had been reformed and the black tape almost, but not exactly, matched the original stubby shape. Brandon couldn’t stop crying. “Here, little buddy, let me wipe those tears for you.” Using his latex glove still smeared with Carolina Reaper residue and juice, Dick wiped both of his thumbs across Brandon’s eyes. It took a quick moment, and Brandon suddenly went silent as its eyelids twitched.
“SSSSSSSSCCCCCCCCCCCCWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
SEE-PWACE!!! SEE-PWACE SEE-PWACE SEE-PWACE SEE-PWACE!!! PWEASE MAKE IT STOP!!! WAN SEE GAIN!! WAN SEE-PWACE BUWNIES GU WAAAAAAY!! HHHHUUUUUUUU!!! MAKE IT STOP!!! GIB ANY ODDAH HUWTIES SEPT DIS ONE!!! PWEASE MISTAH ANY ODDAH HUWTIES DAN DIS!!!
Dick put the instruments he was just using back in their proper spots as Brandon writhed in intense agony, bouncing the car seat across the table and producing a sloppy lake of mushy turds that was starting to build up between its legs in an uncomfortable fashion. “WAI DIS HAPPEN TU BWANDON?!” Dick took an insanely sharp surgical scalpel from a drawer. “Okay Brandon, are you listening? I’m going to get you out of the car seat now and wash you. Don’t struggle.” Brandon sniffled a giant snot wad up. In a sudden burst of rage, Dick stabbed the scalpel into Brandon’s left nostril and twisted. “STOP FUCKING SNIFFING GAWDAMN IT!” Brandon wailed and tried to clutch at its nose instinctively from the pain. “SCWWWWWWE!! NU CAN HEWP! TU MUCH SAD WAWAAAAHUUUU! NU CAN HEWP SAD SNIFFIES!!!” Dick pushed down on the scalpel and Brandon threw all its hoofs up and screamed. The immensely sharp blade of the surgical tool easily cut through the bone, cartilage, and tissue of Brandon’s nose. A sudden blood flood filled its nasal cavity and caused Brandon to choke and cry at the same time. With a sickening pop, the blade had cut through a portion of Brandon’s skull and poked out through the roof of the Fluffy’s mouth. As Brandon screamed from the torturous pain it impaled its little pink tongue through the tip of the protruding scalpel, making it scream even more.
Dick ripped the tool out with gruesome speed. Brandon vomited again, this time it’s swollen bloodshot eyes rolling back as it heaved. A huge wave of blood was rushing over Brandon’s nose and lips. The Carolina Reaper heat was just barely starting to disappear from the Fluffy’s mouth. “Now…like I said.” Dick took the scalpel and used it to cut the two belts of the car seat harness. As he did, he drug the blade deep across Brandon’s tender fluff covered flesh, just below the clavicles, leaving two deep diagonal bleeding lacerations across its barrel. Instantly, Brandon threw its chubby weight forward and flopped itself out of the shit, vomit, and piss soaked car seat and on to the table top. “Dis Bwandon’s onwy chance!! Nee wun way! Huuuuu-huuuuu!” Brandon clumsily shuffled forward, it’s corkscrewed hoof barely able to support its weight and the Fluffy’s senses blinded by the unrelenting pain of the Carolina Reaper infusing a constant drip of capsaicin into its wound. “Bwandon comin’ Daddeh! Pwease wet Bwandon back in housie wif Gwanpaw!”
Brandon galloped in a slow jog to the end of the table while Dick merely watched on in amusement with his arms crossed. The Fluffy skidded to a stop as it came to the edge of the table. Brandon looked down over the edge, the floor was so far below it that Brandon was stricken with intense vertigo. The floor seemed to fall away, getting farther and farther away. Brandon made a wet fart and dropped a slippery turd onto the stainless. “Dis…dis tu high! Dis……dis nu safe tu du jumpies! Ohhh, wat Bwandon du!? Ahhh! Nuu! Nu, gu way nice mistah, nu come hewe!!” Brandon threw its front hooves over its face as Dick impaled the floppy loose skin of its neck scruff with a Tihood brand T-shaped boning hook, a classic butcher shop tool. “SCWEEEE! POINTY HUWTIES!!!
Dick raised Brandon off the table and dangled it in the air for a few moments. The Fluffy hung limpy, its limbs flopping aimlessly, Brandon’s face was contorted into an horribly agonized frown that was leaking snot and dripping tears. Brandon’s impaled and bleeding little tongue hung loose past its bleeding, chapped lips. “Okay, asshole, I’m going to wash all the disgusting filth off you like the sewer dwelling shitrat you are.” Brandon cried in a pathetic sob. “Nu! Bwandon nu wive in da poopie pipe pwace!!! Bwandon hab pwetty and fun housie wif Daddeh an’ Gwanpaw!! Stoopie mistah!” Dick inserted the grip handle of the butcher hook on a custom fabricated device. It was inspired by the miniature paint booths used by hobbyists to paint the parts of restored Tonka Trucks. Consisting of basically a five and a half foot tall metal rod with a curved ‘cradle’ of sorts that the butcher hook handle could rest and lock into, essentially not only freely dangling the Fluffy by its scruff, but also locking the hook in place and completely restraining the Fluffy from moving or twisting the hook while still giving it the folly of hope by letting its legs remain free.
Brandon’s chubby body looked like a tear drop with four stubby limbs as it dangled in place off the hook. The Earth stallion’s white fluff was completely soiled. It was caked in shit, covered in vomit, and drenched with piss. Brandon still, to its pleasure, had its beloved camo Twins hat on. Dick looked at it. “What the fuck is this? Are you wearing a Twins hat?” Brandon sqealed and started to freak out, desperately clutching at the hat, the capsaicin still making an involuntarily stream of drool past its chin. “PWEASE NU TAKE HAT!!! DIS HAT AM SPECIAW!!! NUUUUUUUUU!!!” Brandon frantically kicked its legs. Dick smiled a crooked grin. “Okay Brandon, I’ll tell you what. Tell me the name of a player on the Minnesota Twins and I’ll let you keep your hat. Deal?”
Brandon began to panickedly rack its simple brain. It’s breath started to get faster and it pinched its silver-slate eyelids closed in deep concentration. Tink! Pwease, tink widdwe tink pwace! Bwandon nee keep hat nu mattah what! Pwease tink! Who am Twin? Who am pway fun basebawwie game? Dick flicked one of Brandon’s closed eyelids and the Fluffy sqealed again. “Well any fucking time now, sweetheart!” Brandon gasped for air before shouting as loud as it could.
“OBAMA!!!”
There was a beat. Not even Dick was expecting that answer. “Wrong! My hat now!” Brandon’s pupils shrank. “NU! NU TAKE! WONT LET OU!!! DIS AM BWANDON SPECIAW HAT!!! IT AM MEAN EBBYTING TU BWANDON! NNNNUUUUUUU!!!” Brandon rapidly flaired and shook all of its legs. It closed its eyes and screamed until its lungs gave out, and screamed some more. Dick rocked the ball cap back and forth a few times to loseen it before pulling it off Brandon’s head.
“NNNNNNNNNUUUUUUUUUUU!!!
GIB BACK! GIB BACK! GIB BACK! GIB BACK! GIB BACK! GIB BACK! GIB BACK! GIB BACK! GIB! BACK! NAO!!!” Brandon’s face turned red again, this time from anger. It angled its eyelids down at a sharp angle in rage and tears of frustration pricked the corners. “NUUUUUUU!!! DADDEH AM GIB DAT TU BWANDON AT FUN BASEBAWWIE GAME AT STADIUM!!!” Clutching the hat still, Dick rummaged through a cabin before returning with his butane Micro Torch. Brandon immediately recognized what was happening. The stress and anger welled up into a curdling gurgle before spitting a convoy of seven greasy turds out of Brandon’s asshole. They fell to the floor in a lumpy mass. “PWEASE NU BUWNIES!!! PWEASE!!! BUWNIES BWANDON STEAD’!!! PWEASE BUWNIES BWANDON STEAD’ OF SPECIAW HAT!! PWEASE MISTAH!! PWEASE IT MEAN EBBYTING!!!”
“Oh don’t worry, I’m going to burn you too.” Dick moved the ball cap into the sharp blue cone of fire. Instantly it went up in flame, the cheap fabric made wispy grey-black trails of smoke as orange fire danced all across it. Brandon wailed a deafening roar of sadness and anger as it cried so hard the tears fell to the ground in large drops that audibly splashed. The camo hat curled and shriveled inside the hypnotic flame before it quickly had been reduced to nothing but some frail crumpled sheets of black and burnt fabric. Brandon gagged on its tears and snot, and coughed a little. It could barely get a proper word in between haffing pants of breath. “NU! haff haff NU! haff haff HATCHU!! haff haff GON’ HATCHU FOWEVAH!!!”
“Shut the fuck up.” Dick used his fingers to pinch Brandon’s mouth open by the corners. It was a horrific sight, the roof of Brandon’s mouth kept getting worse and the wound kept opening up more as the Fluffy constantly cried and screamed. Dick placed the roaring butane flame directly onto Brandon’s tongue. It sizzled like bacon as the flame cooked it. It shriveled and turned brown before Brandon miraculous knocked the Micro Torch away with a hoof. Dick observed the damage. Steam rose off the wrinkled up tongue. Brandon still manged to choke out words between gasping wails of pain. “Mouthies su much buwnies, wowstest huwties Bwandon ebah hab!! Wai, mistah? Wai huwtie Bwandon wike dis? sob, sob, hick Huhuuuu, wai dis aww happen? HHHHUUUUUUUU!!” Dick looked down at the Micro Torch. It was a cheapo from Harbor Freight and the fall to ground from Brandon kicking it had shattered part of the plastic body.
“This device you’re on, I use it for pillowing. Do you know what that is, Brandon?” Brandon shrieked. “PWEASE! Not dat! Pwease not dat!” Dick turned away and grabbed some tools off the pegboard. He brought back a hefty looking Ingersoll Rand 114GQC air chisel. Dick opened a large drawer labeled kitchen equipment. “Oh yes, that. You see Brandon, you broke my torch when you kicked with your stumpy litte turd smasher. And now you have to pay for it. I fucking hate you so much, Brandon. I’m going to make this as painful as possible.” Brandon started to rock on its hook as it panicked. “WAIT! Wook! Wook, wook, pwease wook nice mistah! Bwandon am doin’ bestest uppies dancie ebah fow mistah! Wooooook! Wook at how good Bwandon doin’ dancie!!”
Brandon was trying to make itself look as cute as possible. It curled its blooded lips in a tiny, precious smile, and despite the uncontrollable tears its made its bloodshot eyes as bright as big as it could. Brandon adorably flopped its little legs in every direction, hopping them along and wiggling its body side to to side to an imaginary beat. It did dancie as it hung off the butcher hook, it’s maroon main now uncovered and slowly starting to fall over one of its eyes. Dick took a wooden cutting board, roughly 11 inches long, and placed it up straight against Brandon’s back. The white and maroon stallion increased the speed and intensity of its dancie, causing Brandon to sweat and pant. “Nu, nu! Wook at dis dancie! WOOK! Bwandon doin’ the most dancie ebah!! haff haff haff haff Wai…wai puttin’ wood thingie on Bwandon? Pwease nu mistah! pant pant Nu can du dancie much wongah! Pwease! Pwease don’t du dis mistah! Wook at dancie stead’!”
As Dick used his left hand to press the cutting board steady up against Brandon’s back, he used his left to operate a Milwaukee 2101-22 M4 electric screwdriver. The magnetized tip already had a wood screw firmly held in place. Brandon started to now frantically do the fastest and most intense dancie possible. It’s legs became white blurs and it’s tiny and innocent smile twisted into a traumatized scream as Dick held the trigger down on the screwdriver and bore a wood screw through Brandon’s left floppy little ear and into the cutting board. Brandon wouldn’t stop doing dancie through the pain. “FWOPPY WIDDWE EAW!!! HUWTIES! HUUHUUHUUUUUUU!” Dick repeated the process with the eight ear, so that both of them were pinned down flat against the cutting board. Dick was able to let go of the cutting board now, its weight pulled Brandon’s head back uncomfortably as it continued to dancie. It’s flopping rear legs kept kicking against the board and pulling on the screws in its ears, making it whine. Dick prepared a new screw and lined it up over Brandon’s left testicle.
The dancie changed into frantically kicking and screaming. “OH GAWSH!! OH GAWSH PWEASE NUUU!! NU HUWTIES SPECIAW WUMPS!!! WAN HAB OWN FAMIWY OB BWANDON’S, PWEASE NU!!!” Brandon kicked at Dick and sprayed a stream of piss at him. The salty-sweet piss splashed onto Dick’s white apron, creating a design of stains. “Gawdamn it! Will you hold still!”. He balled a fist and slammed it into Brandon’s barrel, hard enough that Dick felt a rib crack. Brandon seized his kicking and immediately let out a breathy weeze as it tried to catch its breath. Dick pressed the wood screw against the very soft and sensitive testicle skin before pulling the trigger. As the electrical components inside the tool buzzed the screw twisted into the testicle and tore through the epididymis tubes inside. The ductus deferens was punctured and shredded as the end of the screw passed out the back side of the testicle and into the wood.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
GGHHHYYAAAAAA!!! AAAAAG! WUUMPS!! WUMPSS! NUUUUUUUUUU NOT BWANDON’S WUMPS!!! NEBAH GON’ HAB FAMIWYYIIIIEEIEEE!!! BLLLAAAGGH!” Once again Brandon vomited from the unbearable pain, before it’s head went limp and the Fluffy passed out. Dick paid no mind, and started drilling into the second testicle.
Brandon was snapped back to concensus immediately, and started scream a piercing scream again. “STOOOOPP! WUUUUUUMPPS! WUUUUUMPS! WUUUUMPS!” With an explosive blast of diarrhea and jet stream of warm piss from Brandon the task was finally done. Dick had fastened Brandon down to a wooden cutting board by its ears and testicles. The pain of trying to get back on its feet would be too intense for Brandon to even try and escape. The Fluffy dangled off the hook, with a cutting board stuck to its back. Dick got down on one knee with his iPhone out. He posed for a selfie with Brandon with a gleaming and genuine smile. “Selfie time! That’s what kids say today I think!” The iPhone snaped and Dick turned the screen around to see the results. Next to Dick’s smiling face was Brandon’s tiny one, frozen in a screaming, open mouthed frown. It’s charred tongue stood straight as blood poured down on it from the hole in the roof of its mouth. Brandon’s eyes were squeezed shut, puffy and swollen with a river-like wave of tears falling out from behind the bare flesh grullo lids. Dick grabbed Brandon by the mane and slid the curved butcher hook out of its flabby neck scruff. The hook had left a jagged hole in the flesh that trickled blood down Brandon’s back. The Fluffy smacked its legs against the board and squealed in horror as it pulled backwards on its testicles each time.
Dick roughly dropped the cutting board onto the table top; Brandon let out an airy “ooahf!’ and a loud fart as it landed. The Fluffy lay restrained on its backside, staring in a traumatized fear and anxiety at the fluorescent light fixtures on the ceiling. They made painful white rectangles burn into its vision and it turned its head to try and look away. Dick dropped an old 1 gallon ice cream bucket on the table filled with ice cold water and dish soap. “I’m going to wash all this nasty shit off, you fucking disgusting waste of fluff.” Brandon’s eyes traced the sloshing line of the soapy water on the sides of the bucket. It’s lower lip quivered. “…duckie….” Brandon said quietly to itself. Dick dipped a Scrub Daddy sponge into the water and squeezed it. The water was so cold it hurt Dicks skin, and it had several ice cubes floating in the suds.
“COWD!! STOP! COWD BAD FOW FWUFFIES!! NU WIKE NU WIKE NU WIKE!!!” Brandon almost instantly started to shiver as Dick drug the ice cold spong across its body, causing its penis to shrink down to almost nothing. The filth in its fluff smeared and streaked as Dick made several passes over them. He redipped the sponge several more times, leaving Brandon soaked and damp. The Fluffy’s entire body was violently quivering and it’s teeth chattered. After about five minutes, Brandon’s fluff was a rather beautiful liquid white, clean of any bodily functions. “S-s-su c-c-c-cowd. P-p-p-p-pwease mis-s-s-stah. G-g-g-gib wowm hug-g-g-gie fow Bwand-d-d-don.” Brandon’s lips had shriveled up and turned a blue-purple color. The stallion winced and tightened its face as a tea kettle whistled. “Aaaaagg!!! T-t-t-tu woud!! Huwt-t-tie fwoppy eaws!” It pressed its front hoofs to its head but the nails were holding the holes open too wide to cover. Dick brought the steaming kettle over.
“This will warm you up.”
Dick removed the lid on the top of the kettle and turned the orange pot over. With a flash of steam boiling hot water fell on Brandon. “SSSSSSWWWWWEEEEEEEEEKKKK!!!” It could say nothing from the pain, only making long open mouth screams. The scalding water burnt the flesh under the fluff, making it convulse and pull against the screws holding it down. Yellow, oily boils and blisters formed on its face, covering its cheeks and nose. Steam rose off Brandon’s wet body. It’s legs all twitched in tingling, numbing shock as its upper layers of skin were cooked. Huge globs of shit pluttered out from its puckered asshole. Dick wasted no time. Brandon could only see blurs as steam and drops of boiling hot water got in its stinging eyes. He held Brandon’s left front leg outstretched against the board, the Fluffy’s pathetically short wingspan not even coming close to the edges. The leg was pinned down at 90 degrees away from the body, held stiff and straight. The edge of the bit on the air chisel sat right on the tender joint of the humerus that connected it to the ribcage. The tool fired and the chisel bit reciprocated up and down faster than an eye could blink. Brandon wailed a deep and loud cry as the chisel pounded through the soft skin with ease, busting into the muscles and tendons before finally shattering through the bone and severing the last of the tissue and muscle. It took no less than three seconds before the bit was carving a groove into the blood soaked wood behind the leg. Brandon was going into shock. It’s pupils rolled around its eyes like a cartoon. It hyperventilated and rapidly looked around, trying to shake the hot water from its eyes. “WEGGY! WAI NU FEEW WEEGY! HUUUUUHUU-HUUUUUU! STOOP! STOP PIWWOWIN’! NEE AWW WEGGIES TU WUN! NEE AWW WEGGIES TU PWAY WED WOVAH!!! MUMMAH! MUMMAH HEWP FWUFFY!! FWUFFY NEE HUGGIES DAT MAKE EBBYTING BETTAH! SSSSCCCWWWEEEEW!!!”
The pillowing was quick, less than a minute, but to Brandon the suffering felt endless and eternal. Dick could see the muscles and nerve endings of the freshly severed stumps on its body all rapidly twitching and pulsing as Brandon tried desperately to move its legs. “Dis eviww! Dis onwy what munstahs wouwd ebah duuuuuuhuhuhuuuu!!! Wai!!! Wai!!! NUUUUU FFAAAIIWW!!!” Dick held the four severed legs in his palm and dangled them between his fingers over Brandon’s face. The Fluffy stuck its burnt tongue out, trying to touch them in any way. “GIB WEGGIES! PWEASE GIB WEGGIES BACK! GIB! GIB!!! WAN WEGGIES!!! NU WIKE BEIN’ PIWWOWED!!! NO FAIW!!!” Dick clenched his palm together in a tight fist and crushed all the legs into a mushy pink and red paste. “NUUUUUUUUUUHUUUHHUUUUGHUU!” He casually wiped the chunky mess off his glove and onto his apron, making a smear of blood and small fluff hairs. Brandon lay there, nothing more than a white and maroon lump of soggy fluff and flesh. As it breathed it formed its gnarled lips into an ‘O’ shape. It’s barrel rose with deep breaths.
“Thewe am nuthin’ weft. Bwandon hab nuthin’ nao. Hab nu mowe wumps. Hab nu speciaw hat. Hab nu mowe Daddeh. Hab nu mowe weggies. Huuuuu. Mistah can du nuthin’ tu Bwandon nao. Nu cawe. Nu cawe bout’ nuthin’ numowe. Pwease…….wet Bwandon be alone nao.” A single tear rolled across Brandon’s blistered cheek. “Wrong again, numbnuts!” Brandon just simply closed its eyes and sobbed as the twelve inch Channellock plier swooped down to its face, and pushed its lips open. Brandon couldn’t fight it anymore. The little Fluffy had been nearly non-stop crying and screaming for an hour straight. It was exhausted, barely able to catch its breath. The searing internal pain of the capsaicin had gone away, replaced by a mortifying phantom pain as Brandon desperately tried to wiggle its legs again and perform a sad dancie for the mistah. The Channellock gripped against an incisor at the front of Brandon’s jaw. It tried to scream, but physically couldn’t, Brandon was only capable of making gurgling gasps of air and throaty moans of agony as Dick ripped the tooth out.
The space left behind was a freshly open socket in the gums, a square cavity of space going probably an inch deep into the jaw and oozing thick blood and saliva. “Let’s replace that with something better.” Dick took a blue colored thumb tack and pressed the pin into the open socket. It felt like pushing a pen into a ripe watermelon. As the pin pressed into the nerve inside, Brandon jolted its head upwards, surprising Dick. The pain of having the thumb tack pressed into its socket was so extreme Brandon ripped its ears free of the screws, severing them in half. The torso leaned upright as Brandon screamed. “Hey! What the fuck! You don’t get to be free!” Dick grabbed the end of the cutting board by Brandon’s head and grasped it, quickly lifting it into the air. Without the screws holding its ears down, all of Brandon’s weight flopped forward. The scream was high pitched and migraine inducing as suddenly Brandon fell first forward and then down as all of its body weight was now pulling down against its stretching testicles. The Fluffy’s balls were essentially folded over on themselves and being stretched downwards against the fold.
The cutting board had a small slot cut into it so it could be hung on the wall of a kitchen. Dick shook the board up and down and Brandon’s weight bounced it up and down, its balls stretching like a bungee cord off a bridge. “You think its fucking about you!? You think you can just fucking sit up without my permission you worthless little peice of slop out of the hog barn! I’m going to teach you so fucking manners, Brandon.” Brandon screeched. “WUUUUUUMMPPS! WUUUMPS! HUWTIES GON’ HAB BWANDON DU SICKIES-WAWA! SCWEEE!!”. Dick could see Brandon’s stumps were trying to clutch at its crotch, the phantom pain inflicting hurt in the Fluffy’s mind. He hung the cutting board off the cradle of his pillowing device. Brandon dangled upside down, it’s balls now an unnaturally swollen purple. Blood and semen flowed from behind the screws and dribbled down across its face. Dick went over to a steel cabinet labeled weapons.
After some deliberation, he grabbed a Tippmann 98 paintball gun. The air tank and paintball hopper were both already screwed in and ready to rock. “Mistah pwease! Wumps gon’ come off, huuuuu! Dis am su wowstest huwties ebah!! Bwandon gon’ du sickies-wawa mowe! Huuuuuhuhuuu! Daddeh! Gwanpaw! Mummaaaaah!” Brandon gagged and coughed before retching and dry heaving. “Oh, oh! Hewe it come! Sickies!” Brandon vomited yet again while suspended upside down. The Fluffy’s stomach having a seemingly endless supply of pulpy mush to vomit up. “Jesus Christ, you fucking things are disgusting.” The Tippmann 98 had the standard 200 round hopper.
“OWIE! OWIE! OHHF! AUAG! NU WIKE! HUWTIES! STOP, STOP HUWTIES WIF PRETTY HOOFIEPAINTS! OWIE! STOOPPUUUUUUUUHUHU!”
Dick held down the trigger with his pointer finger. The Tippmann popped as every round shot out the bore. The light pink balls soared rapid fire from three feet away before painfully splattering into Brandon’s body. They made large red welts as they impacted the pillowed torso and popped the yellow blisters on its face. Brandon was howling with pure torturous sorrow as 200 paintballs pelted it in a time span of only twenty seconds. It tried to turn its body away from the shots but couldn’t move, it shut its eyes as it screamed and tried to look away. Piss sprayed from its penis like a lawn sprinkler and it sprayed pure liquid shit. As the hopper emptied a wisp of Co2 vapor trailed out the bore. Brandon panted before breaking down into completely hysterical crying. Dick couldn’t even make out the words behind its wailing blubbering. Brandon was practically a new Fluffy, barrel and belly almost completely light pink now. It swung slowly back and forth from its testicles as it kept crying. Dick left Brandon there to suffer as he put his paintball gun back.
“What else could I shoot you with?” Before Dick could decide he heard a horrible wet ripping sound. Brandon’s testicles finally gave out. The last of the flesh pinned by the screws tore to shreds, and Brandon screamed as it fell face first onto the hard concrete with a thud, breaking what was left of its nose with a crunch. It’s swollen and mutilated testicles pooled blood around the crying little fuzzy tater tot. Dick used the heel of his boot to roll Brandon over onto its back. It’s mane was completely covering its face and getting in its mouth. “I have one last treat for you.” Brandon tried to blow its mane out of its face. “Mistah……Bwandon nu can take mowe….pwease wet Bwandon hab sweepies an’ huggies. Ow….ow jus wet Bwandon hab fowevew sweepies.” “Nope, not yet.”
He grabbed Brandon by the mane and it squealed like a pig. It hung from his hand like a sack of rocks. The side of Dick’s table had a hefty Central Machinery table swivel vice. Dick slapped the crank handle and opened the two teeth as wide as they would go. He positioned Brandon’s body between them, almost not fitting, and closed the two teeth together against it until it held Brandon perfectly still and in place. Brandon could barely breathe, its barrel so compacted it could only take quick breaths that were never enough air. The little head of Brandon started to feel slightly lighter. Dick wasted no time as Brandon was clearly teetering on expiring. It’s eyes were starting to drift aimlessly, unable to focus. Dick looked for his drawer labeled sex objects. He first carefully took out a bloodstained 7mm sounding rod. He placed it on a brace of sorts, holding it up horizontally in the air. Dick set the butane torch that Brandon had damaged on the stainless steel and cranked the temperature to the maximum. The sharp cone of blue fire made a jet sound as it worked its convection magic, heating up the sounding rod, its steel surface changing from red, to orange, to white.
Brandon remained indifferent. Blood poured from its broken nose and injured muzzle. It could only make panting long breaths and silently sob.
Bwandon wish Daddeh am hewe. Bwandon wish fow biggest wowm huggies wight nao, an wish fow bestest kissies. Bwandon wish fow Gwanpaw. Bwandon wish fow speciaw hat. Bwandon wish stiww pwayin’ fweeze tag wiff pwetty wed an puwpwe wingie mawe.
Bwandon wush meanie mistah dat am du dis tu Bwandon tu hab huwties. Wish meanie mistah tu get sowwie hoofies an’ sowwie poopies an’ sowwie nums.
“SCCWEEEEEE!!!”
Dick forcefully shoved a silicon dildo that was modeled quite &anatomically correctly* into Brandon’s absolutely shit covered anus. It’s belly slightly bulged as Dick pushed it further. It made a slimy and crackling sound as it slid further into Brandon’s colon, until it physically couldn’t anymore. The head of the silicon human penis jabbed at the ileocecal valve at the end of Brandon’s large intestines. It’s tract had straightened and lacerated from the synthetic johnson, slowly inflicting a painful sepsis infection as feces leaked into its blood. Brandon’s vision started to blur, Dick had twisted into a monster of browns and reds, his face no longer visible as a face but as nothing but a blank void. Brandon blinked its puffy eyes. Everything hurt. It couldn’t feel anything yet at the same time felt everything at once.
Dis…am….Bwandon….fauwt. Jus wan dis obah….jus wan die………wan die. It couldn’t even make out Dick’s speech as it continued to repeat the phrase in its mind. Wan die……jus wan die nao……wan die.
Dick had finished his passionate and rehearsed speech. “And that’s why you fucking suck, Brandon! Did you hear me? Are you even fucking listening?” Dick used his knuckles to backhand Brandon across the face. The Fluffy made a “pwah!” sound and spit out a loogie of blood. It just kept silently sobbing. Dick snapped his fingers in front of Brandon’s eyes and they didn’t even blink. “Fuck! It’s going into the want die shutdown cycle.” He knocked on its forehead. “Wake up in there, asshole!”
The bottle of KY brand sexual lubricant made a nasty splattering as Dick squeezed a very small amount of the cooling gel on his pointer and middle fingertips. Kneeling down, he used the gel covered fingers to massage the shriveled up penis of Brandon. From the bioengineered instincts, the stimulation caused the tiny penis to bobble and grow. The feeling pounded in Brandon’s mind. Wait….dis am good feews….dis am nu wight. It’s lips coiled into words. “S-stop. Dis am vewy inappwopwiate! Nebah sposa’ touch a Fwuffy on da peepee pwace! Nu wike dis feewin” Brandon ended its sentence with a wet cough that sputtered up some blood. “So now you’re awake huh? Figures.” Now fully erect, Dick took a rubber band and stretched over the base of the tiny, greasy penis. It was a grullo silver, like its cheeks, muzzle, and eyelids. He folded it over three times so that the band was very tightly wrapped and constricted around the penis, preventing the veins from sending the blood away and preventing Brandon from going flaccid.
Dick looked down at the horrid sight of Brandon’s balls, torn and shredded with the various tubes and capillaries inside disgustingly hanging outside draped over the mutilated and wrinkly flesh. A small dribble of penis trickled out of its penis. Brandon started to breathe faster. “Wait…w-wait what am happenin’? Wai peepee pwace feew su weiwd? Huwties! Peepee pwace huwties!” Dick smiled wide. “Hell yes, you snapped out of it!” The want die shutdown cycle had temporarily been halted as Brandon started becoming more consensus from the awkward and uncomfortable pain on its penis.
Bwandon change tink-pwace…wan wive! Wan gu see-pwace Daddeh gain’! Wan wide in Daddeh’s nice twuckie vwoom-vwoom munstah. Wan…wan wiv! Wan Daddeh! Daddeh!
The reality of the situation came back to it. Brandon started grunting as it struggled and squirmed in the vice. “Wet gu! Wan out! Bad uppies! Pwease wet Bwandon gu! Nu am eben possibwe tu du mowe huwties tu Bwandon!!! Bwandon hab ebwy singwe kinda huwties ou’ can eben hab!!!” Dick used a pair of metal tongs used to grab beakers and flasks and grabbed the smoking, glowing white sounding rod. As he moved it down near Brandon, encroaching his penis, the heat was so intense Brandon felt it on its face. It suddenly started hyperventilating again. As it watched Dick line up the end of the rod with the opening of its urethra, Brandon’s very limited intelligence was able to put two and two together.
“OH GAWSH!
OH GAWSH!
OH GAWSH!
OH GASH!!
NU IN BWANDON’S PEEPEE PWACE!!!
DAT ONWY FOW DUIN GuD PEEPEES IN DA WITTAHBOX!!!
NU IN BWANDON’S PEEPEE PWACE!
NU IN BWANDON’S PEEPEE PWACE!
NU IN BWANDON’S PEEPEE PWACE!
NU IN BWANDON’S PEEPEE PWACE!
NU IN BWANDON’S PEEPEE PWACE!
NU IN BWANDON’S PEEPEE PWACE!”
“Yes in Brandon’s peepee place, actually.”
Dick shoved the blazing hot rod into Brandon’s urethra. It instantly made a loud sizzling sound, like fresh fajitas at a good food truck. Thick white steam shot out from the small gap between the rod and flesh. As Dick pushed the rod even further down, it made Brandon’s penis bulge and swell, the intense heat turning it first red, then pink, then finally black. It’s penis was being literally cooked from the inside out, the tissue of the inner walls of its urethra burnt instantly as the rod passed over it and radiated the heat out, sizzling the meat and tissue that made up Brandon’s shaft and head. Because it was so small, it took only seconds before the hot sounding rod broke past Brandon’s prostate and into its bladder. The heat caused the urine inside the almost full bladder to boil off instantly. The urine boiled into a foul ammonia laced steam that started building a pressure inside Brandon’s bladder. As the last of the piss started to boil Dick laughed, a hardy gut laugh. A small buldge ballooned out on Brandon’s belly just above its penis as its bladder inflated. The pressure quickly became too much and Brandon’s bladder popped like a balloon, the bulge disappearing. The bladder shredded into strips and urine boiled into steam flowed inside Brandon’s body cavity, caressing all its organs.
The scream was non-stop and ear piercing. Brandon only stopped for a few quick seconds to draw more breath before continuing to scream. Brandon screamed with its mouth so wide Dick could see its tonsils and the back of its throat. It’s body shook, it’s bloody stumps twitched rapidly, it’s head thrashed and it’s eyes bugged out, unblinking. The heat of the rod finally started to disappear, it would be minutes before it was cool to the touch again. Dick left the rod inserted. Brandon’s penis was a horrifying black rectangular husk. The charred skin had hundreds of small cracks and tears that bled crimson blood and yellow plasma. The skin of the head had peeled back like a banana leaving the pink crispy tissue exposed. Brandon only stopped screaming until its vocal cords started to bleed. The Fluffy only had the strength to breath, and barely at that.
Dick grabbed it by its mane again and undid the vice. Brandon smacked against his thigh as he walked with it in his hand. He opened the back door of the garage and the sunlight blinded Brandon’s eyes, making it squint. It blinked rapidly before its vision became clear. “Bwight……b-bwight time…….gwassie……wuv gwassie…” Brandon suddenly smiled. A cute little innocent smile. It shut its eyes tight.
Da pawk. Dat was su much fun! Bwandon hab nebah pwayed dat wong befow. Su happies dat Daddeh wet Bwandon du dat. Gwassie am su much sawft on hoofies……hoofies……weggies……
Miss hoofies an’ weggies. If Bwandon wouwda tink-pwaced dat woud be wastest time ebah get tu pway……wouwda nebah acted wike such bad Fwuffy. Bwandon acted wike chiwpy babbeh! Acted su much bad! Made bad poopies! Made Daddeh angies!
Wai haffta be bad Fwuffy? Wai haffa nu stop pwayin’?
Wan Daddeh.
Brandon was jolted out of its mind palace as it landed roughly on something cold and wet. It hadn’t even noticed or felt that Dick had finally took the sounding rod and dildo out. Brandon blinked. It lay in a void of black, soft material. It smelt horrible and felt even worse. There was a bright circle in the dark sky where Brandon saw blue sky, and a pretty bird flew over. “Later, Brandon.” Dick slammed the lid of the steel garbage can closed.
— Five Days Later
Brandon spoke out loud. There was no reason to hide its thoughts in its head anymore. The puddle of feces and urine it lay in had grown so big it was touching every wall of the trashcan.
“Su hungies….wan nummies……su thiwsty……wan wawa………”
Brandon already had a difficulty in understanding lengths of time. It felt as if it had been laying helpless in the garbage can for one hundred forevers. The Fluffy was emaciated, its skin nothing more than a thin layer laid over a fragile and busted skeleton. It’s ribs poked up as bumps through its white and stained pink fluff. It’s once fat and plump grullo silver cheeks now sagged thinly over soft cheekbones. The two deep cuts were Dick had cut the car seat belts off were full of yellow crusty puss. All of Brandon’s stumps were painfully infected, covered in grotesque purple and green scabs and oozing yellow puss.
It’s penis had gone gangrene and nearly rotted away to nothing, with foul bloody piss leaking from it every few minutes or so. Brandon’s asshole was painfully inflamed with almost a week of dried, wet, and crusted on shit. Passing feces at all was nearly unbearably painful for Brandon with how destroyed its intestinal track was.
It’s entire face had developed a sickly green tinge from so many different infections. Brandon tried to rock it self side to side to scratch an intense itch on its back from dried shit, but had no strength. An airy fart escaped from its damaged, dirty, and bloody butthole.
Brandon mustered the last of the strength it had left into one final cry.
“WAN HUGGIES!
WAN NUMMIES!!!
WAAAAAANNN DAAAAAADDEEEEEEEH!”
Brandon coughed up some bloody sputum that landed on its barrel. The bloody slime coated its thinning out paintball stained fluff. Brandon sighed a deep sigh, and closed its eyes for the final time.
Now, forever a resident of Skettie Land, Brandon happily smiled and adjusted the framed picture of Hunter in its safe room inside the Tree of Happies and Laughies. Petunia put its front hoof by its mouth, as if it was trying to cup its hand like a human. “Bwandon, Bwandon! Huntew Juniow jus opened see-pwace fow fiwst time! Pwease come wook come wook! Gon’ be su pwoud!!!”
Brandon slipped on its RealTree camouflage baseball hat and excitedly trotted out the wooden door in an adorable hopping jog.
Good job! 
