Chapter 17: Mummah?
Erik was wondering if he should get an outside pen…or kill Brownie and be done with it. Woah, where had that dark thought come from? How could he think of killing Brownie, who he’d raised since foalhood? Sure she was a little bit naughty, but Erik knew he wasn’t an angel as a teenager either. Right. He just had to get her on the right track.
What had caused these thoughts this fine morning? Well, he was trying to take a morning sh-t, and forgot he had Brownie in the tub. He was subjected to fluffy babble first thing in the morning. He was not nearly awake enough for this. He didn’t keep talking fluffies in his room since he needed time to wake and prepare for the babble.
“Pwease, daddeh? Bwonie pwomise be gud! Pwomise!” The fluffy ended her rambling speech for her freedom with sparkling eyes.
Erik sighed, having been daydreaming through most of it. “Brownie, you need to prove yourself longer. I’ve given you so many chances and you blew all of them.” He said. “If anything, you need school…” that gave him thought. He’d heard of a place that was essentially fluffy boot camp. For fluffies that went full on smarty, or who were heading that way. He’d seen the teaser for it…a dude named Sg. Pain was the name of the host. Maybe he could send Brownie in. They did say they welcomed outsiders sending in fluffies. He began to look it up on his phone as Brownie immediately proved why she was in the tub.
Brownie’s face turned angry, and she started stomping her hooves in a tantrum. “Nu faiw! NU FAIW! BWONIE WAN OUTIES!” She screamed. “SCREEEEEEEEEE!”
Erik huffed in annoyance and wondered if he should keep headphones in here. Oh, wait…he didn’t need that. After his business, he didn’t flush. Not yet. He reached towards Brownie, who’s tantrum was pushed aside by programming. She went into her ‘upsies’ pose.
“Upsies! Yay!” Brownie was surprised as she wasn’t grabbed by her middle, but her tail! “Screeee! Bad upsies! Daddeh! Dese am bad upsies!” She said, wiggling, her weight sagging towards her front. She was moved, and found herself above what daddeh called the ‘toywet’. Brownie gagged at the so not pretty smell coming from it. “Daddeh! Toywet nu smeww pwetty! Nu wan!” She flailed.
“If you don’t shape up, you may end up there, Brownie. You keep making a mess of your new home.” He gestured to the tub, which had shit splatters from her tantrum last night. Erik flushed the toilet and put Brownie back in the tub, deciding to give it a rinse down.
When the water switched on, Brownie was fearful once again. “Nuuuu! Wawa bad for fwuffies! Daddeh! Sabe Bwonie!” She waddled to the other side of the tub, and tried to climb out, the attempt proving to be both fruitless and pitiful. Her soft leathery hooves found no purchase and the smooth porcelain. Predictably, she pissed herself. She was all sh-t out most of the time.
Erik ignored her, rising the tub out. The water was lukewarm, since he didn’t want Brownie miserable all the time. “You know, if you were a good fluffy, you could play with your siblings.” He told her, having a scrub brush for the dried fluffy poop that wanted to hang onto the tub. He then gave Brownie a quick water rinse. She was probably the cleanest fluffy he had, honestly. She practically got a daily bath. It helped to have an immobilization board and muzzle on display. A threat of what he could use if Brownie was too problematic during a bath. He liked to think that Brownie had so many baths that the protests at the beginning were program speak. Like a reflex. She had little control over that phrase popping out.
He had to pin her down in the tub at the end, as she kept trying to climb out. He had a hand around her middle, keeping her belly down in the tub.
“NUUUUHUUUHUUU! Daddeh!” Brownie cried, flailing her little hooves. Erik rolled his eyes, and finished her bath before drying off the pathetically sniffling fluffy pony. She was growing, he realize.d About half the size an adult should be. She’d grown so fast. Was it too late for her? He didn’t want to lose another fluffy to smarty syndrome…
He decided to take a risk He couldn’t have a Sleet 2.0 so he’d have to take drastic measures. He typed out an email while sitting on the covered toilet. It looked like they wanted a bit of history on the problem and when it started…
‘Hello. My name is Erik, and I have a problem with a budding smarty named Brownie.
Brownie is part of a litter of five. The rest of the fluffies are well behaved. Only Brownie has this problem. When she was young, her mother crushed her leg. Brownie got a leg transplant, and ever since then she has thought of herself as special or deserving of special treatment. She has shown to have above average intelligence for a fluffy and is very stubborn. I cannot make her stop on my own. Please help.’
There. That should do it. Erik sent it off, and breathed out. One problem would hopefully be solved. Now…to check on his now re-legged fluffy. Sleet had been enjoying her new legs, despite how they poked at her. That was some desperation. Erik hadn’t expected it, as he’d tricked Sleet into thinking she was born legless. Maybe there was a part of her psyche that knew she’d had legs once. He had to wonder…what would happen if it was done to a fluffy even younger? But of course he’d never so that to an innocent newborn fluffy…
Erik opened the closet-er, the saferoom, door. Right. It was a saferoom now. Now that Sleet had legs, she had a toy. She also still had FluffTV. There was the possibility of more toys and exploring again if she proved to be a good fluffy. He’d given up on making Sleet accept her foals, but she could still be a good lap fluffy. There was no way he could breed her again. Despite the comments of ‘kill her and be done with it’ he got on the internet, Erik found he could enjoy Sleet’s company with sneaky torment. Though the internet not quite friends seemed delighted to have converted a hugboxer to an abuser. They were quite liberal with their tips when Erik recounted how he’d tricked Sleet into thinking she never had legs then got her abuser legs. He was a bit stuck, but they’d given him ideas. Use her foals. He’d filled their tiny heads with the knowledge that their mother was cruel and hurt them…both sets had seen her being cruel to her progeny. They knew the Brownie incident, and they’d all see what she did to poor Knight when he came close and she found he was an alicorn. So…she would make sure they hated her. The legs were made to let Sleet walk, but they physically could not raise high enough to crush anything more than a little chirpie. They would be fine.
“Hey, Sleet.” Erik said with a smile to his fluffy. He went over to her, and lifted her up.
“Weee! Upsies! Wuv daddeh!” Sleet said, her tail wagging like a feather duster.
It was just like having his old fluffy back. The prosthetic legs had taken away her pillow fluffy depression too. Interesting. “I’ve been thinking, Sleet…maybe it’s time for you to meet the foals again.
Sleet paused. “Buh…munsta babbeh…an dummeh babbeh…” she puffed up her cheeks.
Erik frowned, and held her by the scuff of the neck and gave her nose a flick.
“Bad upsies! EEE! Owies! Wai gib Seet owies!” Sleet looked sadly at her daddeh, wincing as her fake arms moved up to her nose.
“You will not call them munstas or dummehs.” Erik said sternly. “They will be there, but you won’t be able to stomp them. Your new leggies won’t work that way. They don’t want you to be mean.” He said. Actually it was because they didn’t need a knee joint. The leggies only needed to be good enough to support the fluffy’s weight and give huggies. Or in an additional caveat…cause pain.
Sleet pouted, but the idea of going back into her old safe room…she wanted it. “Otay. Wiww be nices to babbehs…” Sleet said.
Erik wondered if Sleet being mistreated finally got through to her…or if she’d go back to her old ways as soon as she was given the chance. It was going to be an experiment either way. he also had his micros to check on. If fluffies gave birth in weeks, micros gave birth in days. It made sense…smaller animals had shorter gestation periods. If they didn’t give birth today, it would probably be the next.
Erik carried Sleet to the safe room, looking forward to how the fluffies would react to Sleet. Maybe they’d even attack her! He stepped to the doorway to see how they were doing.
Sunrise and Cloudy were pushing a ball back and forth.
Peppermint was reading a Fluffbook out loud while Knight lazily listened.
Goldenrod was sulking in the corner, diaper still on.
All was good. Though that would soon shatter. “Fluffies!” he called out sweetly. “I brought a surprise for you!” He set down Sleet. “Sleet came to visit.
“Hewwo babbehs! Cum tu mummah!” Sleet sat and opened her arms to them.
The reaction was instantaneous. Four babbehs and an older foal screeeeeeed in terror.
“Nuuuu! Stay ‘way munsta!” Peppermint cried, running into the hidey tunnels, which were too small for an adult fluffy to follow.
“Scawy munsta mummah! Nu num Cwoudy’s odda wingie!” Cloudy screamed, following Peppermint. Although it was Brownie who had broken Cloudy’s wing, Erik had compared Brownie and Sleet a lot. It must have made them indistinguishable in the foal’s mind.
Sunrise was next, waddling as fast as he could. He was the biggest of all, but not fat. He was just an exceptionally large fluffy. “Hewp! Nu wan be nummed by munsta!” He hid behind the tunnels, unable to fit in them anymore. Last time he tried, he’d gotten stuck, and needed to be pulled out by Erik. Luckily the tunnels could be easily taken apart in case something like this happened. After all…fluffies were dumb. Everything was made with he thought they were dealing with an unintentionally suicidal hybrid that could shit its own weight for any reason. It had to be safe, and easy to take apart.
Knight ran for the tunnels too, sobbing his eyes out. “Huuuhuuuuhuuu!” Right, he’d been bitten by Sleet when she found out he was an alicorn. Even if he was more grown, it was another thing to face his trauma.
Goldenrod did not run, though he was scared. He was standing guard by the tunnel, shaking, his diaper filled, but he stood strong. “Nu! Stay ‘way fwom family!” He spoke bravely, little cheeks puffed. He’d make a brave, almost gallant looking boy if it weren’t for the diaper.
Sleet looked hurt and alarmed by the reactions. “Wai babbehs wun? Babbehs am fo huggies an wuv!” She said. She scowled to see Goldenrod. “Wai munsta babbeh weaw diapew?”
Erik decided to step in. “No foals are monsters, Sleet.” He chided her. “And Goldenrod is wearing a diaper because he wanted to keep drinking milk like a babbeh. So he’ll wear a diaper like a babbeh.”
“Nu wan miwkies nu mowe! Wan be big fwuffy an pwotec famiwy!” Goldenrod claimed, stomping a hoof in Sleet’s direction.
Well, that was an improvement from what he had. At least Goldenrod wanted to change. “We’ll see, Goldenrod.” Erik said, and knelt in front of the tunnels. “Guys, you can come out. Sleet has promised not to hurt anyone.” He said.
The foals were scared, but they trusted their daddeh. After all, daddeh was always right. He always protected them.
Peppermint came out first, looking cautious, and staying behind Goldenrod. The rest of the foals followed suit, Sunrise waddling around the side, quivering. Knight tried to stay in front, but he kept cringing away from the fluffy.
Sleet looked hurt. “Wai babbehs nu wan giv mummah huggies?” She asked.
“Sleet, you hurt Knight. Don’t you remember? He went to nuzzle you and you bit him.”
“Buh dats munsta babbeh! Nu wan be nummed by munsta babbeh.”
Oh, right. He forgot Sleet was a complete and utter moron. “Knight is NOT a munsta. Your babbehs don’t like you because you hurt Knight. They know you hurt Brownie too. And that you made her bad.” He said, but knew it wouldn’t get through her head.
Sure enough, Sleet didn’t listen, and kept trying to get close to the babbehs. Goldenrod, bless his brave heart, kept getting between them, shouting at her. The foals screed, and comically ran from her. Eric filmed it.
Eventually Sleet got tired of this little game and tried to attack. “Take sowwy hoofsies!” She cried, and tried to lift her hooves up “SCREEEE! OWIES!” Sleet fell to her belly. “Huuuhuuu….wai weggies huwt Seet?”
Erik his his smile. The hoofs were meant so lifting them too high would dig the spikes into her. This specific leggie model was recommended for bitch mares who couldn’t be around foals, or fluffies with a stomping problem. It worked like a charm, leaving Sleet unable to stomp the foals. “It’s because your new leggies like foals, Sleet. They’ll give owwies if you try to give any babbehs owies.” He told her. “I think that’s enough for today. You still get a punishment for trying to hurt them.” He grabbed his fluffy by the scruff of her neck.
“Bad upsies!” Sleet wiggled, and almost missed what her daddeh said about punishment. She gasped a few seconds later. “Bu! Seet nu huwt babbehs! Nu nee sowwy stick!”
“But you do. Even if you were stopped, you tried to hurt them. So you get a sorry sticking and spend the night without your new leggies.”
“Nuuuhuuuuhuuuhuuu! Wan weggies! Wan weggies!”
“We’ll see tomorrow. Maybe you’ll be nicer to the foals.” Erik took Sleet into her closet saferoom and grabbed the nearby sorry stick. He pinned Sleet down by the back as she tried to squirm away. He faced her towards the litterbox in case she wasn’t totally empty, and brought the sorry stick down on her.
“SCREEEEEEEEE! SCREEEEEE! SCREEEEEEE!” Sleet screed each time she was stuck, but cried the most when her leggies were taken away, the harness hung on an unused hook. Another thing to dangle in her sight, never in reach.
“We’ll see if you deserve leggies tomorrow.” Erik said, and closed the door.
Now…he had to check on the microfoals. They were due to give birth any moment. He went into his spare room, where he kept the micros. He’d intended to keep them in his room, much like an ant farm, but they were deceptively loud creatures, and he did not want to listen to inane babble form them.
When Erik walked into the room, he heard sobbing. Loud fluffy sobbing. Oh great. Knowing them, it was either Apple or Butter. Both were cowards. He quickly went over, and sure enough, it was Butter.
Butter was sobbing, her hooves over her eyes, blood coming from her special place, along with almost fully formed babbehs. They had hoof marks on them, only one weakly peeping.
“Nuuhuuhuuu! Speshul huggies bad fo babbehs! Nu am mummah nu mowe! Bad speshul huggies!” She cried.
Violet had just dismounted from Butter. “Shaddup! Enfie mawe cwy tu much!” He said. He caught sight of the peeping foal, and crushed it under his hoof.
Apple was sobbing in the corner. “Sowwy speshul fwiend! Viwet tu scawy!” He cried.
Ah. So that was easy to piece together. Violet decided to use Butter as an enfie mare. She miscarried and Apple was too chickensh-t to even stand up for his mate.
“Wan die. Wan die.” Butter said, looking off into the distance.
Erik sighed. Great… He picked up Butter, but did not grant her wish. No, he put her in the isolated section. He’d meant to use it for the foals…but he could make the carrying case a little foal place for a time. He put Apple in the isolated area with Butter. “Alright, Apple. Give her more speshul hugs. We’re gonna give her babbehs. I’m getting at least one litter out of her.” He said.
Apple looked up at Erik, shocked. “Buh…Buttuh nu happies! Nu wan babbehs ow speshul huggies!” He protested.
Oh, now he got a sense of morality? “But you will.” Erik said, putting his thumb on Butter, pressing down a bit, until she peeped in pain. “You’ll do it, or I’ll crush her in front of you, and you’ll have to eat her remains to survive. Your choice.” He said. He didn’t have to wait long. Apple made his choice, approaching Butter.
“Sowwy speshul fwiend.” He said, and mounted her. “Enf. Huuu. Enf. Huuu. Enf. Huuuu.”
With that dilemma taken care of, Erik stayed nearby, as both mares were complaining about tummeh babbehs.
Indigo was whining about not having her food and litter box so close. Erik only cleaned it once a day. If they didn’t make it to the litter box, oh well. It wasn’t gonna be cleaned. He’d seen some shit on Butter and on Apple. They might have been the cleaning rags. Who knew what would happen for cleaning now. Either way, Indigo was whining now about not being able to move.
Nymph was whining about not being able to get ‘enfies’ while pregnant with tummeh babbehs. As crazy as she was for enfies, not even she would risk her tummeh babbehs.
Erik didn’t have to wait long until he heard the first cry.
“BIGGES’ POOPIES!” Indigo screeched at the top of her minuscule lungs, flailing her little leg nubs.
Erik got up, and came over to get a closer look, wet wipes in hand. “Alright, Indigo. I’ll talk you through this. You’re going to be such a good mother. Maybe even the bestest.” Fuel her syndrome. After Sleet, he knew some trigger words to help Bitch Mare syndrome along. He even took Indigo out of the pen to put her on a paper towel on the table. Better so he can keep an eye on her and the babbehs. There would be no babbeh stomping. At least not yet. His population wasn’t nearly big enough.
He watched the jelly bean size babbehs be born. The first one slid out, a brilliant blue. It was too small to see what color the mane would be, same with the sex of it…as well as if they had any horns or wings. He’d have to come back later with a magnifying glass. He hadn’t thought of that. He gently wiped the babbeh clean then set it in the makeshift foal pen.
The next babbeh came out, a sea foam green. Pretty, so long as it didn’t have an atrocious mane. Not that he planned to sell them. Not unless he got something extremely special.
The third babbeh slid out, a grey…no, that was closer to silver. Silver…it was very pretty.
The fourth babbeh was white. It looked like those two would be lucky babbehs. He wrote down the details. He was going to try to avoid inbreeding. At least in here early stages. So he needed to know who was who. And in case he wanted to get creative with the breeding. After all, fluffies did try to avoid special huggies, at least with immediate relatives.
He then heard Nymph yell “Biggest poopies! Daddeh! Biggest poopies!” She was freaking out. Erik put Indigo with the babbehs. “Indigo, feed your babbehs.” He told her. He planned to keep the babbehs in there if any were ugly, possibly a poopie babbeh. But…they all looked pretty enough. He’d just have to make sure Indigo didn’t go outright neglecting her two other kids for the beautiful ones. A bit of favoritism was okay, though. It wouldn’t kill them.
Indigo hadn’t even seemed to notice her babbehs were gone. The afterbirth gushed out and she was left gasping. She was picked up and eeped. “Bad upsies! Upsies bad fo tummeh babbehs!”
Erik raised an eyebrow. “You just had your babbehs.” He reminded her, and plopped her right in front of them. “Feed them.”
“Such pwetty babbehs! Gun be bestest mummah! Mummah wuv babbehs! Babbehs wuv mummah! Dwink wots of miwkies! Gwow up big an stwong!” She began to sing loudly and off key as her silver and white babbehs were first to feed.
Now he had to deal with Nymph. Nymph was wagging her leggies and looking around. “Okay, Nymph, it’s okay. Just push. The babbehs will come out.”
Nymph did push…but instead of babbehs coming out, a splatter of shit and a large fart exited. She sighed in relief. She’d lost…actually a tiny bit of mass.
Erik felt his eye twitch. If this b-tch wasn’t actually about to give birth… Luckily she was. She and Indigo had been impregnated roughly the same time, so of course they’d give birth around the same time. He breathed out heavily through his nose in irritation. “Okay, hon. Now that that’s out of the way…” He quickly replaced the now brown dotted paper toweling. “Let’s get those babbehs out of you.”
The first babbeh to slide out was eggplant purple. Not altogether unpleasant, but it would be better if it were a boy. Erik cleaned up that babbeh, and put them in the babbeh pen on the opposite side of Indigo. No need to test her limits on a babbeh being near. That babbeh peeped, able to smell milk from the lactating mare. It craned its head over far as it could in that direction, but was unable to move it’s chubby little body.
The next foal to slide out was pastel purple. It was beautiful. He had a soft smile as he cleaned that one off, then gently placed them into the foal holder.
The next…was quite unfortunate. Erik winced at the shade of green. Puke green. Not even a nice moss green. He might have to hand rear him, and force feedings. Or maybe he could put it with Butter and Apple. Butter should be lactating, and maybe their status as punching bags would make them sympathetic to this sure to be rejected foal. Besides, it wasn’t like Butter had a state of mind to kill this foal. Was it even worth saving? Who would mate with it unless Erik forced them to? He sighed, and set the foal in the box after cleaning it.
Fourth foal came out red. Almost red like apple. Erik laughed. If he hadn’t known better, he’d think Apple could be the daddeh.
“Wha so funny, daddeh?” Nymph asked, looking up at Erik between pained gasps.
“Nothing, Nymph. Daddeh just found it funny that this babbeh looks like Apple.” He said, cleaning it off.
Nymph pouted. “Babbeh muh bettah than cwybabbeh dummeh Appwe!” she proclaimed.
“Of course.” Erik placed the babbeh in the babbeh area. It looked like Nymph was going to have another babbeh. Probably her last, as she was close her original size.
Fifth and final foal came out jet black. Interesting. Erik knew it could go either way for feeding this little one. The afterbirth gushed out after as Erik was cleaning off the last babbeh and put them in there.
“B-babbehs?” Nymph asked, trying to turn around.
“They’re just in here.” Erik said, and cleaned off Nymph’s backside.
“Daddeh! Nu towch speshul pwace!” Nymph squirmed.
“I have to make sure your speshul place and Millie places are clean.” Erik explained to her. “I don’t like having to touch there either.” He told her. He noticed Indito was more or less asleep. He removed her and put her in her nest, placing the babbehs one by one by her. They’d fed just fine. It looked like they’d be just fine. Now…he’d see how Nymph did.
He placed her down, and she looked at her babbehs, eagerly. Her eyes roved over them, a goofy smile on her face…until they came to her third babbeh. Her smile dropped off her face and she looked repulsed. “Dat ugwy babbeh.” She said, forlornly. “Nu wan.” She shoved it away with a hoof roughly.
The foal who was shoved peeped in alarm, now no longer having the warmth of his siblings. He smelled milk nearby, but was denied it. He chirped sadly, his mouth blindly opening and closing.
“Alright. Feed the rest of them.” Erik said. He nudged the black one towards her first. Luckily she had no objections to that one, as she began feeding them happily, cooing at the babbehs. Well, at least he could count on them to survive until solid food.
Then…there was the rejected. Erik picked the little thing up, feeling how small and fragile it was. He moved over to the isolated area.
“Butter~.” Erik called, all smiles again.
Butter was looking off into the distance, her face fluff soaked.
“Butter, look, you still have a babbeh!” He claimed.
Suddenly she was out of the ‘wan die’ phase, which was induced by her spawn dying. “B…babbeh?” She asked, looking up tentatively.
“Yeah, see?” Erik handed over the little foal. He knew Butter’s sense of smell was plugged up by snot from crying.
Butter tried to sniff the foal, only to not snort from the snot. “Buh…Viwet gib fowaba sweepies to babbehs…” she said, hope blooming in her eyes.
“He must have missed this one.” Erik said. “It’s just one, but you should feed him.” He told her.
Apple looked at the foal with doubt and distaste, but Erik glared at him when he opened his mouth, so any doubts were silenced.
Erik rolled Butter to her side and placed the foal at her teat. “Take care of the little one, okay? They’re your lastest babbeh until you give birth to more.” He left after that, deciding he’d watch any progress after on camera. Though as he turned away he heard something interesting. Apple huffed and under his breath he muttered “Poopie babbeh.” Oh…this should be fun.
Erik felt so accomplished today. He decided to go for a walk to clear his head. He may even talk to the local ferals. He couldn’t bring a family home, but he could feed them a bit. He took a bag of kibble with him so he could leave a small pile for any families he found. Most of them were fairly familiar with Erik and his feeding of them.
The walk was going fairly normally…until he came across a certain family. It was a family of a pink unicorn mare with a red mane, a green earthy stallion with a yellow mane, and three foals. The foals were a light blue earthy, red pegasus and a purple pegusus. However…only one foal, the purple one, still had their eyes closed. The rest were making words and talking, even trying to toddle, but this foal still had their eyes shut, peeping softly.
Erik poured some kibble out. “Is that one foal last to open their eyes today?” He asked.
The fluffy giggled. “Siwwy hoomin. Dat mummah’s sensitibe babbeh!”
Erik blinked. “Senstive babbeh?” As the fluffy tried to explain it, Erik tuned her out and looked it up online. Oh…so it was like a foal with a stunted growth. At least mentally. He watched as the mare waddled to the food and began to eat, before her senstive babbeh started to roll off her back.
“Be careful!” Erik said, and managed to catch the babbeh. “You’re too careless with your sensitive one.”
The poor foal was peeping in distress, panicked from their near drop.
He then had an idea. “I’ll just take…” he checked the foal. “Him off your hooves. It’ll be easier with just two babbehs, right?” He stood up, foal in hand. “I’ll take good care of him.” He promised.
The mare looked up in alarm. “Wha? Nu! Babbeh! Nu take babbeh!”
“No need to worry. He’s in good hands.” Erik said as he walked away, practically glowing from his good deed. Now the mare had one less mouth to feed, and a less problematic babbeh! He was taking fluffies off the streets!
“Babbeh! Nu! Bwing bac babbeh!” The mare cried, not even noticing she’d crushed her other pegasus in her pursuit of Erik. Her stubby legs couldn’t keep up with Erik, and she eventually crashed to the sidewalk, left to huuu pitifully over the foal she just lost.
Erik pulled the babbeh out of his pocket, and poked his belly lightly. “Alright, little guy. I know just the right mummah for you.” He said. The poor babbeh was still chirping up a storm…he was probably just cold and hungry. He could fix that up in a jiffy! He was so happy to have a new foal for his family!
