Ode to Bestest Mummah 2 [ by Milky ]

You are a bestest mummah, you tell your tummy babbehs every day. You were sad at first, and sore, after you became a soon mummah. Your mummah had to give you a bath just to clean away all the booboo juice and poopie. You sobbed when she cleaned you, wanting to tell her that wawa was bad for tummy babbehs, but you had to admit the warm wawa felt so good against your soreness.

Your poopie place and special place stung and ached for days after you… met your special friend. You try to ignore it, focusing on the growing foals inside you. Yes, they’re the most important thing to you!! Nothing else matters.

You’re so excited to see them, you can hardly contain it. Your mummah has had the FluffTV set to reruns of “Babies!” since you first became a soon mummah, wanting you to learn as much as you can about being a good mummah. Dummeh mummah, you don’t need to learn anything from the silly tv, you’re already the bestest!!

At first, you had expected your dummeh mummah to give you the bestest sketties every day, after all that’s what gives bestest mummahs the bestest milkies for their future babies! But, you’re disappointed as she still fills your bowl with nu taste pretty kibble. Your mummah says it’s special kibble, to help your tummy babbehs and you be healthy and strong. You don’t believe her, though. Your mummah has become such a dummeh, how could she know? If the nummies don’t taste like delicious sketties, there’s no way they can be good for your babies!! You continue to demand sketties, hoping she’ll realize just how stupid she’s being if you keep trying to remind her!

She can’t give you too many owies, seeing as she wants your babbehs to be safe— but she can still put you in the sorry box. You spend a whole dark time in there, crying softly to yourself as you beg to be let out. Your cries are ignored for the most part, and despite hating being in there you still continue to beg for sketties when you’re let out. Most of your pregnancy is spent either watching FluffTV or being in the sorry box. Your mummah tells you she’s done with listening to your begging. That’s so mean!! You’re not begging, you’re just trying to tell your dummeh mummah what your babbehs need! She always acts like she knows better than you, but they’re YOUR tummy babbehs, not hers!

You find yourself getting more and more irritated with your mummah, frustrated that she isn’t listening to you. You’re back in the sorry box once more, but you’re not crying. Instead, you’re puffing your cheeks out and stomping your little hooves against the sides of the box. Your tummy is giving you the worst owies, that’s how mad you are!

You’re so so mad that now your tummy is squeezing so hard, your poopie place and special place are aching as if you have to take the biggest sorry poopies ever!! See, even your own poopie place knows that your mummah is a dummy. A sharp pain shoots down your spine and you give a loud “Scree!!”

You can hear your dummeh mummah running down the hall, her feet stomping as she does so.

“Biggest POOPIES EVAH!!” you cry out, just in time for your mummah to open the door to your sorry box and see you. You’re so happy to see her, you forget for a moment that you’re upset. She’ll help make your owies go away— she’ll make everything be okay!!

But…She doesn’t help you with your special place owies. Instead, she leaves you all alone. Why is she leaving?? Can’t she see how much pain you’re in!! You hardly have time to dwell on the heartbreak, though, as you feel something BIG push out of your special place.

You screech as loud as your lungs will let you, feeling the weird and big poopie stop halfway. You’re panting now, giving another big push before you feel a moment of relief. It’s cut short, however, as another wave of owies starts up— you’re entirely consumed by the pain, but the sound of gentle and desperate chirping seems to soothe you.

Your mummah has come back now— she’s got all kinds of stuff in her hands. There’s a wet blankey and a dry blankey, as well as what looks like a big fluffy pillow. You try to ask what they’re for, but cut yourself off with another scream and big push.

It’s about ten minutes before you feel the final foal slip out and join it’s siblings. They’re chirping hungrily, trying to find warmth and food. You try to turn around and see them, but you’re far too large to spin full circle in the small sorry box. Your mummah notices this, and quickly pulls you out, setting you on the fluffy pillow. Then, she reaches into your sorry box and starts removing all your new foals. She’s looking them over one by one, but she’s not letting you see!!

“Gib… babbehs to mummah? Pwease, babbehs need mummah!!” you state, though your mummah ignores you.

She’s washing them off one by one, wiggling them around and then placing them into two little piles on the dry blankey. She seems very excited about almost all of them! Though you catch her looking very disappointed about two. Were your babbehs okay? Why was mummah upset about them? You were the bestest mummah, how could any of your chirpies make your mummah upset!!

It’s a few moments of you whining for your children before your mummah turns around and looks at you.

“Alright, stop crying. Mummah is gonna show you your foals. Remember the rules? Mummah expects you to love ALL the babbehs she says are good.”

The rules? That was so many forevers ago, you almost forgot. You don’t care, though!! You want to see your bestest babbehs!!

After all, you’re a bestest mummah now.

Link to Milky’s Story Archives

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I ADDED MY NAME TO THE TITLE SHSHSHSH

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“HQ, we’ve got bitch mare syndrome approaching. I repeat, bitch mare syndrome approaching. Prepare the sorry box and sorry stick”

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If she’s still full bitch after a pregnancy of the sorry box, I’m not liking her chances of taking good care of alicorns. And if she kills one, she’ll have to die. Except she can’t die. Because she’s making alicorns.

Prepare a bowl of batter for weggie tempura!

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We’ll just have to wait and see!!!

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Ooh, horrifying twist! They blind her so she loves them all.

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Idk, she’s pretty bitchy. You may have to use the sorry Ludovico Technique.

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Now we’re talking. :smiling_imp:

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Prepare the eye speculums!

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She dont care of the rules and everything just because she’s the bestest, a way would have slap her face nonstop having to think always like that :grimacing::triumph:

I wonder why the owner have a bad reaction on the two foals :thinking:

Are we expecting this bitch mare goes bonkers? Cant wait to see the next chapter.

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She’s definitely got some Alicorns in there, maybe a couple runts based on the owners reaction.

Theory - Either Lemonade has one bestesh babbeh and she’ll spoil that one as proof she is the ‘Bestesh Mummah’. Or, she has no ‘good’ babies and will flat out refuse to have anything to do with them because ‘dummeh babbehs nu come fwom bestesh mummah’.

Either way, Lemonade is losing leg privileges, potential breeding mare depending on how badly she fucks up with these kids.

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Assuming typical fluffy tropes, there is no way that woman would kill her if she had a multi alicorn litter. Pillowing and even more horrible body modifications, perhaps, if she is uncooperative or just too insufferable to have to deal with, but that lady will not want to do anything that would prevent Lemonade from having more litters.

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Added that bitch been thinks EVERYTHING she is good at but its not and the owner is “dummeh” mummah :grimacing:

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Ode to Bestest Mummah 3
Ode to Bestest Mummah 4 Bestest Milkbag 1

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Mommy just has to mistake bitch fluffy eyes for ashtrays…

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a good twist!!

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You’ll see in the next chapter >:3. All your questions will be answered

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"and then she had bestest babbeh who ended up on the street somehow, that bestest babbeh’s name? Einst- I mean PETUNIA

DUN DUN DUN

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PETUNIA!!! FULL CIRCLE STORY

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