Barry hadn’t realised how embarrassing owing a fluffy could be.
Seriously, he cringed at some of the shit he had done to make Wendy, his mare, happy.
His friends would shit on him if they saw the stuff he did with Wendy. And all of it was as cutesy and as unmanly as you could get.
He just really wanted a cute little fluffy.
He had her since she was a foal. Grown from a foal in a can, she was legit cute at first.
But it’s true, fluffies, like children, are far less cute as they grow bigger.
And in Wendy’s case, fatter.
He’d deny it but he could sing any Disney song and any Disney song you could name he woukk on a know every lyric. Even the obscure ones.
Wendy loved this, Barry rocked her to sleep at night and he’d sing her a song.
It was usually Part of Your World. He had a serious Ariel kinkand was pretty obvious. In fact he dressed as Ariel and whatever Princess and give good upsies to Wendy and dance and sing with her.
She loved the attention from her daddeh.
But don’t you tell his buddies that. He begged his ex not to pics online.
His buddies would laugh if they saw. Thank god it wasn’t ever in public.
But Barry was a tough guy, how would his friends react seeing that?! This wasn’t the only thing. He’d dress her, he’d buy her all sorts of toys, he’d do a funny dance for her.
He’d even indulge her with trips to the store late at night whenever she asked for ice cream (the human variety, not the fluffysafe version).
Why not? Fluffies should be treated well and have a little fun with.
They have such short lives, why not indulge?
And she was such a princess. She deserved be to get whatever she wanted
And she got ice cream close to every day.
And she put on the weight and became rounder.
A lot of this was done in private. His buddies knew he kept a fluffy, the smell that lingers on your clothes is a big giveaway, but they never knew exactly what he did with her.
They all thought she was an abuse cushion……a guy like Barry with a fluffy?
Fun behaviour right?
This is the glamorous and fun side of owning a fluffy.
It’s all well and fun playing with them and cuddling them and then filming them on your mobile when they do some cute but dumb stuff.
No one talks about the stuff you have to do to keep them healthy.
No one talks about cleaning their asses with warm, soapy water and using a Q-tip to clean the anus. This job always made Barry cringe.
It always tickled her. She’d make a giggle that made Barry uncomfortable. Fluffies are known to get a lot of infections around their anus.
A fluffy who doesn’t have a sore ass is a happy fluffy……just wait until you hear what a fluffy is like with a red raw and sore Poopie place. You’ll know about it all day and all week until you get that cream for them.
Cleaning her poopies from the litterbox too, wiping the tears off her face when she had a boo boo, sorry sticking her dumb rear if she got one bit of shit on the carpet (he didn’t exactly like this, he was always told that you shouldn’t be afraid of kicking their asses when need be, but they’re so brittle! what if you broke them?)
Manageable stuff so far if you’re willing to seriously take care of your fluffy. It becomes a routine even.
But as Wendy matured, and sexually matured, she began to ask about having Babbehs more often.
And her behaviour became more…….challenging.
No way in hell was she breeding nor did Barry want to witness any breeding. He could barely afford the one fluffy comfortably.
Everyday, Babbehs. Babbehs. Babbehs.
She asked everyday and she sulked and cried and was miserable and she became worse behaved.
Poop would now never go into the litterbox, kibble was never eaten and was always knocked over.
She’d puff out her cheeks until she couldn’t anymore.
Babbehs. Babbehs. Babbehs.
She never even asked for her beloved ice cream and the nightly trip to the mini-market and buying her a small tub for her to lick when it had melted a little.
Barry ignored the behaviour.
It was a passing phase. She was just on heat. It never lasts and soon she’ll go back to normal.
He began to think of his grandpa’s old dog, Henry. And when that guy was on heat he just wasn’t himself.
It would soon pass.
Barry even ignored the fluffy daycare attendants who had warned him about her behaviour.
Wendy had become bullying towards other mares who had Babbehs of their own.
She cried when she got told she couldn’t keep any of the foals that she wanted to play with.
The attendant had to carefully distract and pick up Wendy to avoid harming the foals that she had taken. The other attendant had rescued the foals and returned them to the crying mare who had been hit in the eye by Wendy.
Wendy was kept in the sorry box and she was made to apologise to the crying mare.
She was made to promise not to do it again.
But then she did it to another mare, except this time one of the foals had to have a limb amputated due to carelessness and fighting between Wendy.
Wendy had always got the upper hand. She was fatter and bigger than a male tuffie. And size always matters in fluffy squabbles.
She had to be kept away from the males to avoid a pregnancy that she really wanted……and she was kept in a room with the pillowfluffs.
The pillowfluffs were all very happy to finally have a friend with leggies that they could play with. A massive chorus erupted from the room. Finally a nice friend with leggies.
Wendy was pissed (as pissed and as irked as a fluffy can get). Why had she been put in a room with dummy fluffies who couldn’t give enfies?!
Though the pillowfluffs were very happy with their new friend, the behaviour could not continue unchallenged.
The attendant with the nice ass had warned Barry it would get worse if left unchecked.
It was too late to spay her. Well, Barry felt it was pointless. He heard that once they’re adults, spaying does not kill the desire to have Babbehs, just the ability.
And maybe one day he might change his mind and let her……
It was also his crux, a way of asking her to behave herself. The carrot dangled in front of her as you will.
Spaying her would remove the incentive. If she knew she couldn’t have any babbehs, how could he make her behave?
You can have Babbehs if you’re a good fluffy.
And Wendy was so happy that she wanted to be a good fluffy all the time.
But she was a good fluffy all the time and she still didn’t have babbehs?!
And then one evening she went full hellgremlin.
The guys were over and they had been charmed by her, they knew he had one but played along that they didn’t know Barry had a fluffy that was as adorable as she looked.
Gary asked if he was going to abuse her. Barry said fuck no! What kind of person do you think I am?
One of the guys asked why she was so fat and if she was a dam. Barry glared back at him.
He then texted his phone and asked him not to mention babbehs or foals.
She cooed from the strokes and had sat herself upright.
She loved the attention. One of the guys slipped her a twinky which she ate messily.
And then Wendy did the unthinkable.
She began to ask her “nyu daddehs” if they would give her special Huggies for babbehs.
The guys burst out in laughter at this.
Wendy did too. She was confused about why they were laughing. Maybe this was their way of saying that she could.
She lifted herself and put herself in front of the TV and put herself in a position to be mounted.
She asked for all the special Huggies so she could have lots and lots of babbehs.
This prompted more laughter.
Barry hadn’t ever been this embarrassed.
It didn’t stop there.
She kept getting in front of the fucking TV!!
And asking to be Enfied.
Barry kept pushing her along and away from the TV.
Barry had paid for the PPV! Lesnar was on for all of 5mins for fuck sake.
She pleaded with everyone to give her babbehs!!
Pleading turned to begging which turned to threatening.
The guys just laughed. What could an annoying shitrat do to all of them?
She threatened bad poopies.
Why did Mark leave the fucking pizza on the floor?
Wendy squirted shit all over.
Pizza, the floor, the television screen, Johnny’s face.
That room was filled with liquid diarrhoea.
He was furious.
She huffed at him and blew out her cheeks.
She wanted Babbehs. Now. Or more bad poopies would come.
Barry began to kick her into the closet.
She cried and cried and begged to not be hurt.
He kicked her inside and told her to shut the fuck up.
The closet was closed. He’d deal with her in the morning.
The guys laughter stopped once they saw the thunderous look on his face.
Only the front of the TV screen was wiped clean, Barry bought the fucking PPV!! they were all going to fucking watch it!
Who gave a fuck if the room stunk of sticky diarrhoea!!
He noticed Johnny had snuck to the kitchen and rinsed the pizza under the tap to get rid of the crap.
What a sicko! Is he gonna eat that?!
The next morning, Barry opened the closet door.
He was still furious.
He hadn’t slept all night. He kept thinking and thinking about what to do with Wendy.
The living room hadn’t been cleaned (and Johnny was still asleep somehow on the sofa).
Wendy had been shaking.
She began to cry when she looked up. “Nu wan babbeh nu mo. Am sowwy daddeh! Wendy am bad fwaffy”
“We’re going for a walk Wendy”
“Otay daddeh am sowwy fo bad poopies. Wan be good fwaffy fo daddeh”
Barry hadn’t gone too far. Practically a few blocks and then he turned a corner into the alley.
He had to be quick and discreet, he wasn’t paying any fines.
Wendy was put into a cardboard box.
She didn’t like the box, it was packed in just like the closet. All fluffies have a degree of claustrophobia after all, not moving scares a fluffy.
And then the walking stopped.
The box was placed down further into the alleyway, away from prying eyes. Barry decided that Wendy was too much trouble and not worth trying to put much effort into fixing.
Why waste all that time when you can just go out and buy a new and younger fluffy? Hell, she only cost $2 from the machine and it’s not like he couldn’t go and get another foal in the can.
The fluffy would be younger and far more cute.
He hoped to get good colours……maybe he would name it Ariel? Getting a new fluffy was pretty exciting to him……
Wendy called out for her Daddeh, she was so scared and didn’t like the box.
It was so dark and she couldn’t move or see her Daddeh.
She began to weep and make a lot of poopies in that box.
It didn’t smell pretty.
She got tired of crying and laid in her own filth, tears and faeces matted into her fur.
The box had begun to weaken from the moisture and fell apart. She could finally be free!! It was a stinking mess!!
Wendy was glad for the fresh air.
She had no idea where she was.
It was an alleyway, there were scraps of food laying about, no Daddehs!!
No way to have Babbehs.
Wendy began to call out.
Was daddeh playing hidey gu seekies?
Wendy didn’t know.
She put her hoofsies over her eyes and tried to sing a song.
Maybe daddeh would come if Wendy is good fwaffy and sing hidey gu seekies song?
She covered her eyes and sang. She would soon see her daddeh.
Or maybe a nice new Daddeh?
She began to sing some more.
And some more.
And then a rude voice interrupted her.
“Dummeh mawe fwaffy!!! Gib Smarty speshul huggies nao!! Ow get hewties an poopies!!”
A smarty stood in front of her, he blew out his cheeks and made angry eyes at her. He would scare this dummy mare.
The male tuffie was by his side, the rest of the herd not far behind. A few mares and foals and other males.
How long had Wendy been singing she had no idea.
Fluffies have no concept of time beyond light and dark time.
“Gib smarty enfies nao Dummeh! Gib speshul huggies tu smawtie!!”
The Smarty began to raise his hoof to give her a bad hurtie. How dare this Dummeh mare not give him enfies right now!
Fluffies only need to be asked once. And the answer is always “Otay!”
It was too bad he underestimated Wendy.
She was a tuffie too. And was much bigger than the smarty.
And the male tuffie.
Wendy screamed at the smarty, he soon lost his scary face and made scary poopies.
“Nuuuuu!! Dummeh Smawtie!!! Oo gib Wendy speshul huggies nao!!!”
And Wendy beat up the Smawtie.
She stomped him and stomped him and gave him boo-boo juice from his smell place and a sore see-place.
The tuffie cowered at the brutal and vulgar display of power. He just sat there shaking and made poopies too. And wiesies. He didn’t smell pretty.
Smarties and tuffies like all fluffies can be pretty dumb, but they both knew thar they had done fucked with the wrong mare.
And then her rear went straight to the smarty’s face.
“Nao gib speshul huggies dummeh!! Ow get mo sowwy hoofies”
The smarty cried.
And he cried.
He was so scared.
He mounted the scary mare and enfied her for a few seconds.
He cried out good feels. But they didn’t feel like good feels. He was really scared of the munstah mare.
He’d never had enfies he didn’t like before.
And then he was done.
The scary mare then went up to the tuffie.
“Nao oo gib me enfies dummeh. Wan aww de enfies an wan aww the Babbehs!! Mo enfies mo babbehs!!”
The tuffie was so scared, he had seen what happened to the smarty (who was now crying from his hurties and an unknown feeling of shame and something that he had never felt before……).
And he enfied.
He enfied with everything he had.
This mare was a Munstah!!
He enfied for his life for all of 8 seconds.
And then the rest of the males in the herd enfied.
A literal conga line waiting to make enfies with the Munstah mare.
The mares were so scared of the scary mare that they closed their eyes and hid them behind their hoofies.
Some of their mares kept their babbehs close by.
One of the mares ate her babbehs to stop the Munstah mare from getting them.
Even the nu-pretty tasting Poopie babbeh.
And then she ran away. She was such a bad mummeh.
They’d never seen such a scary mare.
And then the males were Enfied out.
They were so tired.
They had enfied to save themselves and the herd from hurties. They all panted and gasped for breath.
Wendy was delighted, she had so many enfies she could have lots and lots of babbehs!!
She began to sing the soon-mummeh song, she was very happy.
Why did meanie daddeh not let her have babbehs?!
She then turned to the smarty, “fin an gib nummies fo soon-mummeh, nao!”
The smarty had heard that tone in her voice before. It had only been 5 minutes before.
He didn’t want to give her any more enfies, and he was so scared of hurties, that he wandered off looking for the bestest nummies for the Munstah mare’s tummy-babbehs.