“You’re a Bad Mummah” Chapter 3 [By MostlyNeutralbox]

(The next chapter of my story. As always, I love feedback and suggestions.)

Chapter 3: What is Happening?

Erik wanted to apologize. He felt he traumatized his poor fluffy with the bath time. She needed a bath, but it was a struggle each time. But…Sleet bit him. She’d NEVER bit him before…he wondered if she should have put her in a sorry box, but he figured he’d traumatized her enough already. Time for research and forum posting. He posed his question on a fluffy help forum. It was mostly hugbox. Mostly. He knew there were some abuser trolls who’d say stuff like ‘just kill it’ or ‘abort the foals’ just to mess with him. Some abusers actually had good nonviolent ideas though. It took Erik a while to accept that but he did now.

In the mean time…bath time products. There were all sorts. Some that claimed to to help calm difficult fluffies, or specifically for soon mummahs. They were especially protective of their foals. Anything the fluffy was afraid of was perceived as a threat to their babies. Even things that they weren’t afraid of previously could not be threatening to them. There were a number of options. Some looked more like DIY tubs with restraining straps and muzzles. Others seemed to be top of the line models with comfy straps. The DIY stuff looked to be about thirty dollars, while the high end could end up in the hundreds. He took a small break for food which took him by Sleet’s safe room. She was talking to her tummeh babbehs. Erik listened in out of curiosity.

“Don wowwy, babbehs. Sweet pwotect yu fwom meanie dummeh daddeh.” She said between coos and mummah songs.

Erik was shook. Was that really what she thought of him? A meanie? A dummeh? He felt a bit of anger. After all he did and all the spoiling she thought so lowly of him? Erik took a deep breath, pretending he hadn’t listened in. He didn’t have the heart to go the DIY route for bathing, but there was no way he was going top of the line. He’d find something that he could use when she wasn’t a soon mummah as well.

After a quick snack of an apple (yes, he was health conscious) he went to the forum. He found an interesting solution from an abuser. He knew they’d come through! He was told a leg immobilization board helped. Huh. He thought they were used for leg amputations. Apparently Erik wasn’t the only one who thought so, as many questioned him. He had replied that that was the common use, it wasn’t the only use. Their legs went through the holes and they couldn’t pull themselves out due to their weight and lack of knees. A muzzle was optional but recommended. Best of all, the immobilization board meant it could be used in a regular bath or shower. Erik thanked the internet stranger for the help. That was perfect! He went to the site…it was an abuser’s dream.

Ugh…some of those tools made him shiver, especially the ones specifically meant for stallions. Wasn’t spanking them enough? They were like little kids. He sighed, and went for the immobilization boards. Wide enough that they’d accommodate Sleet. He also went for a light muzzle. Things that wouldn’t hurt Sleet, but it was impossible to make them comfortable. He sighed. He’d fallen so far, he lamented. Before all this Erik couldn’t imagine himself having to ask for how to bathe his fluffy. Now he’d bought from an abuser’s website. Hell, even the banner at the top showed an animation of a cartoonish fluffy being beaten with a spiked club. After ordering he sighed, deciding to use wet wipes until his new materials arrived.

A few days passed when the next incident happened. He decided to check on Sleet in the afternoon.

“Sleet? How are you doing, honey?” He asked, keeping his voice casual. Not that the fluffy would be able to tell.

“Daddeh?” Sleet looked up, her earlier words forgotten, or she was pretending. It was more likely she forgot. She got up and waddled over. Her mobility had visibly decreased and slowed. Her belly just barely brushed the ground. “Sweet am hungwy. Wan nummies.” She said, wagging her tail.

Erik raised an eyebrow. Normally she asked for them. “Sleet, you get fed twice a day. You know this.” Erik had adjusted the amount of food she got to accommodate her growing needs. he’d been warned fluffy ponies would like to overeat. Many used pregnancy as an excuse.

Sleet puffed out her cheeks. “Wan nummies! Wan sketti! NAO!” She stamped a hoof on the foam mat of her floor, making a light ‘pomf’ sound on the ground like a pillow patted.

Erik scowled. “Sleet. You don’t demand. You’re getting the sorry stick for that.” He had to escalate. He didn’t want to, but if he let Sleet get away with demands she would keep getting worse. He left the room to get the sorry stick out of the closet.

It was way in the back, as he hardly ever used it. He mostly had to use it to discipline Sleet as a foal and when she was in her adolescent phase. He couldn’t remember if he ever had to discipline her as an adult. Slipping something in his pocket, Erik headed back to the safe room. He came back to what looked like a nightmare.

Brown. Brown everywhere. Erik gagged at the stink, and stumbled out, looking back. Okay, so ‘everywhere’ was an exaggeration, but it was about two feet high up on the walls and all over the floors. He looked at the smug fluffy, doing the last of the ‘sowwy poopies’ on the wall. The fluffy looked over at Erik. “Wan sketties.” She said, as if shitting on the wall was going to convince him otherwise.

“Oh hell no.” Erik said. He already had the sorry stick in hand. He stepped into the room quick, stepping around a few piles of shit, and pinned Sleet down. Unfortunately for the fluffy she tired to run, so she was now pinned down in a pile of her own shit. Not that Erik noticed at the moment. He brought the sorry stick down on her rear. ‘THWACK’

“SCREEEE! HUWTIES! WHY HUWT FWUFFY?” Sleet screamed. Erik brought out the object in his pocket. A muzzle. Sleet was planning to scream down the house? He would put a stop to that. Getting the muzzle on was a struggle in itself. Sleet wiggled, screed at the top of her lungs, and even tried to bite. Erik got it on after a good half a minute, and adjusted the straps accordingly. Sleet’s marshmallow hooves ineffectively pawed at the muzzle. Muffled screes tried to escape. Erik sighed, feeling even more pissed off.

“Now you get the sorry stick, a cold bath, AND the sorry box.” He told Sleet. That got the fluffy wiggling again, so he brought the sorry stick down on her flank again. Erik had heard terrible things about what could happen to fluffies. Did it matter? Their nerves were so sensitive that a paper cut was the same as a slash with a knife. A time out and a spanking was more than enough to discipline them. He gave her ten.

Erik picked up Sleet by the scruff of the neck after. He heard two muffled sounds, which he knew were ‘Bad upsies’. Fluffies hated to be picked up like this. He saw her face fluff was matted with tears. The whole bottom of her, from the underside of her snout to her belly and hooves, was covered in foul smelling fluffy shit. Erik wrinkled his nose, and carried her at arms length to the mercifully close tub. He thanked whatever force was up there that his hallway floors were wood. Easily cleaned. He left Sleet in the tub, and reached for his other recent order he now kept beside it. A plastic leg immobilizer. It wasn’t as cold as a steel one, but it was cheaper and lighter.

He got Sleet into it, and the effect was instantaneous. Sleet looked confused, looking around, and looking for her legs. She muffled into the gag, likely asking where weggies went. Underneath the board, the appendages twitched, but Sleet couldn’t run around. Now she couldn’t bite. Erik was washing Sleet, and finally knew peace. For once, he could run the water over Sleet without hearing the screeching and pleading. Without that repetitive mantra of ‘wawa bad fo fwuffies!’ That he hears every. Damn. Time. He sighed, and was able to rinse the crap off her, tilting the board and running water on it to wash Sleet’s underside. He had to lift her just a little bit to ensure it was all gone. He took extra time to shampoo and condition her. Normally Sleet was so fussy he only had time to rinse her off. The only sound she could make now was slight whimpers as she was finally cleaned. Erik took her out of the tub, roughly drying her with a towel so she wouldn’t catch hypothermia. After all, the sorry box was in the basement. This was also largely unused. He saw Sleet get fearful as they went into the basement of the house, dark and cold. She whimpered to see the sorry box. Erik kept the muzzle on. He didn’t want to hear her demands or screeching now. “I’ll come back for you tonight. Think about why you’re being punished, Sleet.” He said, and left her in the sorry box, a simple wooden thing, facing the wall.

Now…he had one last job to do. This one was the worst. He had to clean the safe room.


Loving it. Want to see if sleet calms down after the babbeh or she is a lost cause.


I think she’s a lost cause. She’s too entitled and spoiled to see the error of her ways. I can see her rejecting her foals if they’re poopie or alicorns…Spoil your fluffy even a little bit and it will be a blessing if they don’t turn into a bitch mare or a fucking smarty hellgremlin rapist. Unless you just get a chill fluffy who is spoiled, but is appreciative, loving, well-behaved and grateful like Mystic or my designer mare Princess Stuffykins.


Only time will tell if she calms down. If not, maybe give her a taste of street life in a controlled environment. Take eveything from her except a litterbox, get boxes and a little trash can for food. Keep it cold in the saferoom or whatever she’s going to be locked up and tell her she gets everything back only if she can prove she can be a good fluffy. If not in time take the foals away one by one starting with her bestest babbeh. Tell her they died due to her being a bad fluffy.


You, I like you.


Get that bitch in line. If not, we’ll… you know what to do


Slow burn hell yeah


I really enjoy this series, alongside the none too subtle poking at the community proper and their replies. It’s very well done and I am somewhat terrified to think of where it’s leading to.


this is likely to get worse


I really loved this chapter! Partially agreeing with @moonbat here… she’s absolutely the type to reject a foal. I’d love to see this escalate for another chapter and culminate with foal rejection. The abuser in me wants to watch Sleet’s bestest babbehs get some horrible torture… but the hugboxer in me wants her to recover after birth and have a happy family.

So whatever you do, I’ll be happy lol. Excited to see what’s next.


You do make some very entertaining series. I do hope slate shapes up when the babies come but I have a sneaking suspicion she’s only going to get worse. If that’s the case the owner could just get rid of her and keep one of the babies ( and maybe get it fixed right away)


I think I know how to fix Sleet. Ignore her. Leave her with nothing but kibble and water and when she gives birth than immediately take all of her babies. Keep them for maybe two days and tell her that if she treats any baby bad for any reason than you will take her babies for even longer. Everytime she messes up just take her babies and leave her with less and less food and water.


Just toss her at this point.


He wants the babies. He’s making money off them.


read this a while back and loved it
giving appropriate likes now that I have a profile


Soo this is a bitch in the making or was it due to spoiling the shitrat gotten into that mentality.

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Thanks for such a good idea for one of my stories

Leave it to a shitrat to double down when a human, akin to a god for such a fragile creature, reminds her of her place


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