Chapter 6: Pillow
“Pillow her.”
Sleet looked at Erik, wide eyed. She knew what pillowing was. It was for bad fluffies! The worst fluffies lost their leggies! She looked up at Erik, who stared at her with a cold expression. “Buh…Seet gud fwuffy! Gib stompies to poopie babbeh!” She protested.
“No, Sleet. You tried to kill your babbeh. That’s what BAD fluffies do.” Her ears flattened to hear him emphasize the bad. Erik turned to the doctor. “I won’t change my mind. I know the recommendation is just to have her put down, but I want at least one more litter out of her. She made good colors and patterns.” He said, looking over her existing brood. Even if three weren’t conventionally pretty, two had interesting patterns, and he had a soft spot for the little tripod fluffy. He had a feeling that he’d be keeping her along with the alicorn colt.
The doctor nodded. “Perfectly understandable. You do realize pillow fluffies are a lot more work?” He asked. “You can’t just stick her in a room and expect her to be better. FluffTV can make them worse unless you intend to torment them. Judging by previous visits…you don’t torment needlessly.”
Erik sighed. “Yeah, I’m more of a hugboxer. But I do want her to be punished. Even if she can’t understand why she was horrible.” He felt a little bad that he couldn’t get through to Sleet…but if he didn’t do anything, she’d be emboldened and only get worse.
The doctor started to get tools out. A strange pair of shears he connected to a power source, an electric razor, and a tube of instaheal brand gel. “These shears are a bit of a newer thing. They’re meant to cauterize at the same time while cutting. Of course, her legs will have to be dislocated so we’re not cutting through bone.” He was also inspecting Sleet. “She was hurt recently? Her side and her face?”
Erik winced. “Yeah, I had to push her aside once when she tried to stomp on the babbehs. That was the first sign of aggression. Then when she stomped on the little one’s leg, I kicked her away.”
“Nothing broken, it seems. Just bruising.” He kept a firm hand on her back, as the fluffy kept trying to wriggle away. Her hooves found no purchase on the cold steel. He took the electric razor, and began to shave the fur away from the joint. At Erik’s quizzical look he explained. “We have to shave the fur, or it may catch on fire. There were a few…unfortunate accidents with other technicians.” He said.
“Nuuu! Nu take Seet’s pwetty fwuff!” Sleet protested, trying to wiggle away. “Owies!” She proclaimed whenever her wiggling meant she got a nick from the razor. Within five minutes, most of her legs and the area around her shoulders were bare.
Without any further preamble, the doctor grasped the fluffy’s front right leg, and twisted hard at the joint between the leg and the shoulder.
“SCREEEEEEEE!” Sleet screamed, panted, then screamed again “EEEEEEEEEEE!” Her remaining legs flailed as she let out scaredy poopies. “WHY HUWT WEGGIE?” The fluffy was full on sobbing, only screaming again as her other front leg was broken.
“NUUUUU! SCREEEEEE!” Her other legs were broken in quick succession, and the doctor picked up the shears. They’d been heating up while he shaved her and broke her legs. The blades were red hot now, and he sliced through the first one. The leg fell to the table with a small amount of blood.
“SCREEEEEEE! NUUU! WEGGIE!” Sleet couldn’t even reach for the leg, as it was broken. The rest of her legs were cut off without delay. The healing gel was slathered on.
“She’ll heal, but there will be bald patches around the scars, unfortunately. There are treatments, for those who like their fluffy to be…well, fully fluffy.”
”That won’t be necessary. I don’t care if she’s self conscious.” Erik said coldly. Sleet was passed out from pain, and Erik slipped the muzzle on her, and put her back into the carrier. “Thank you, doctor. You’ve been a great help.” Though Erik smiled, his voice was tight. He paid for the services at the front, then left.
The ride home was calmer. The chirpie seemed to have recovered, and snuggled up to her siblings. They were starting to chirp hungrily. Erik would have to feed them when he got home.
Sleet woke partway through the ride. The muffled screaming from the back was pretty obvious. Erik only turned the daddeh song he had playing a bit louder.
When they got home, the chirpies were the priority. He got them their milk. Sleet was left in her crate until he had them fed, emptied, and put to sleep in their little fluff pile. He smiled momentarily at the pretty babbehs. Then his expression hardened. Time to deal with Sleet. In her safe room, he took out quite a lot of things, only leaving the TV, and the mummah bed. That bed was also a pillow bed…but with different branding. It worked well to keep the fluffy in place. He would have to do something else when the babbehs could walk around, but he had a week or two to figure it out. He retrieved Sleet, carrying her by the scruff of the neck. He heard her farting, and was glad she’d emptied herself in the vet’s office. He put her in the mummah bed, filled the food and water, then took the muzzle off.
“Daddeh! Seet nee weggies tu wun and pway!” Sleet claimed, looking at him pleadingly. Erik only left, deciding she’d get no TV tonight.
He returned to the little chirpies. He played with them gently, though the injured filly only got pets. Not that she’d be able to tell. He pet the others, gently tickled their bellies, and sang to them. They at least knew they were loved. He could hear faint ‘huhuu’-ing from the safe room. Honestly, he’d probably just put her in the basement, or in a closet. He had to clear out that closet anyways. Well…it wasn’t like the chirpies were going anywhere. He set up a perimeter of couch cushions for the chirpies, and walked towards the closet. He would make it Sleet’s new, small room. He’d still make it a safe room, of a sort. Just…far less furnished. He wouldn’t put her in the ‘wan die’ phase for his own sanity and the safety of future foals. He would use a different stud this time. He would see what other patterns could happen. Erik thought about this as he cleaned out the closet, deciding what to throw away, and what to store elsewhere.
A few days passed, and Erik re-opened and updated his ad. He mentioned what Sleet had done, warning the foals would be hand raised. Though he did lie about how she lost her legs. He claimed she tried to run away after a sorry sticking, and fell down the stairs. He also posted pictures of her foals and the stud she’d paired with to show she could produce alicorns.
Sleet’s new safe room was much smaller. Normally in a closet, he’d have the TV at the back, and Sleet facing away from the door…but after Sleet threatening sorry poopies, Erik had her turned sideways. She sprayed the wall once, so Erik had closed the door and let her wallow in the stink until nighttime. She hadn’t tied that crap again. Literally.
The foals had their own little safe room, even if they were still unable to see. Erik had set up a bottle stand for them, but he had to place them in front of the bottles when it was time. They seemed to enjoy it. He heard only happy chirps from them. They only time they sounded distressed was when they were hungry, or one chirpie somehow was outside of the nest and cold. Erik had his camera to keep an eye on them. He updated a few especially cute clips on a hugbox website. He couldn’t wait for them to open their eyes.
Soon enough he got a hit on his ad. A private message. The guy said he had an alicorn, that it was rough…and he knew it was utter bullshit about Sleet taking a tumble down the steps. He even gave the advice that Erik should rub the stumps whenever he needed to punish Sleet. Erik thought about refusing the guy, but then saw his alicorn. White with a silver mane and gold stripes. Damn…those were good colors. Did it matter if he was rough on Sleet? Erik’s finger hovered over the ‘Reply’ button.
He decided. He didn’t care too much if Sleet didn’t like her special huggies. She wanted them so bad to have babbehs again. And this time, her pregnancy would b less pleasant. He wasn’t going to give into her demands. Erik replied that he would love for the two to have foals. The same deal he gave to the last breeder. He’d let them have the first choice of foal at a discount. He was finding he didn’t gibe a damn about what happened to Sleet anymore. The whole pregnancy and after she’d been such a pain. He loved his fluffy but even he had a limit.
It was easy to set up. The guy was closer than expected. He could be over the next day. That was perfect. He made sure Sleet at least looked presentable, though she was now miserable. Each day she asked ‘when weggies back?” Then she’d burst into tears when Erik told her “You’re a bad mummah!”, and her weggies were gone forever. He didn’t tell her that she was going to be bred again. She didn’t deserve that small bit of happiness beforehand.
When the stud arrived he had Sleet in the living room, and Erik had been petting the babbehs. He put them in their container, and out of reach when he let them in. He’d been warned the stud did not like babbehs not his own. The last thing Erik needed was another incident. He saw Sleet start to get excited. The last time a stallion was over, she got good speshul huggies and babbehs!
The guy let his stud go to Sleet…and he bucked her right in the face.
“Woah, I don’t want him to beat her up!” Erik claimed.
“Relax, he just does it once to get him off.” His owner claimed with a lazy grin. Sure enough, the stallion went around while Sleet was still crying, and mounted her.
He was indeed rough. Sleet was ‘screeeeee’-ing in pain, wiggling the small stumps she had. “SCREEEE! DADDEH! HEWP SEET! BAD SPESHUL HUGGIES! SCREEE! NU WAN! NU WIKE! SABE SEET!” Sleet screamed. She got ‘sowwy hoofsies’ for her screaming and was called a ‘dummeh mawe’.
Erik only stared with a dead expression. Sleet started to cry to see her daddeh didn’t care about her. He wasn’t saving her? Was she a bad fluffy?
Finally the call of “GUD FEEWS!” Rang out, and the stud slid off. He’d had his fun, and trotted back to his owner after catching his breath. “Pwince did gud?” He asked his owner, looking as innocent and sweet as a fluffy could. The man left with his fluffy, wanting updates regularly.
“W-wai Seet hab bad tummeh babbehs?” She sobbed. Apparently she wasn’t thrilled when the babbehs were by a mean stallion. Oh well. He was going to hand raise these ones too. Whether she wanted to be a good mother or not was none of his business. He got the foals out again, and lavished them with attention while Sleet could only watch.
