Chapter 11 Bad Leggie
So she’d lied. Erik had thought so, but it still hurt to know Brownie lied to him. Erik hoped Brownie would be a good girl, but she’d lied to get out of her bath. It failed, but Erik thought the bath was punishment enough. He’d have to make sure this didn’t happen again. He had to get on Brownie, and punish. He wasn’t going to let himself have another Sleet on his hands…not that he should breed Brownie. Maybe he should get her fixed. If she wanted little babbehs to play with, he’d get some micros. He was serious about wanting them. Apparently the full sized ones could be kept in a hamster cage no problem. They were about the size of a new foal when all grown.
Erik had read through the replies. Many had actually thought the leg came alive…and it sounded sketchy as hell with their explanation. It made more sense that she lied. A user pointed out she hadn’t used her name. So it was certainly a lie. He’d have to wait until next time…because he was sure there would be a next time. Fluffies didn’t develop issues overnight. Neither did they fade overnight. He didn’t know how the hell it started, but he was going to make sure it ended. If regular punishment didn’t work, he could lie, and tell her that her new leggie and the others would run away if she was bad, like they did with Sleet.
Speaking of Sleet…he had a new way to mess with her. After she got clean, that was. He had ordered some sedative, as well as some fur that looked like hers. He planned to sew it over her stumps so it looked like the stumps only had fur. To help convince her that she was born without legs. He looked very forward to it. He deserved it, after Sleet was such a bitch to him. He’d have his fun. For now… he had to check on her.
Sleet was sobbing about the ‘Nu smeww pwetties’ all over her. Right. She was still covered in litter. She’d refused a bath, and soiled the litterbox again. A lot. Erik sighed. “Now you’re getting a bath for my peace of mind.” Sleet had to be clean for this. He didn’t want her to get sick or die of an infection. Sleet had no resistance this time, only huuhuuing about her situation.
Washing was uneventful, at least. Erik was surprised at how much litter could get stuck in tangled fluffy fur. He was finally getting her cleaned up. Her gray fur was pretty once more. Though it had less gloss to it. Probably due to her unhappiness. He couldn’t bring himself to care as he felt for the foals more than Sleet. They were innocent and sweethearts. He’d just make damn sure they didn’t act up.
Erik ran the water over Sleet, having it lukewarm at best, and cool at worst. It wasn’t a nice bath for sure. But he finally had it done, and dried Sleet. It was a bit rough, but he put her back in her bed, and filled up her food. With the sedative. She wouldn’t be able to taste it. She was hungry enough to wolf it down, even as she complained about the taste.
He checked in on her five minutes later, and she was fast asleep. Erik felt an evil grin on his face as he got a needle, thread, and the faux fur. He carefully measured and cut the pieces to fit over the stumps perfectly. He sewed them over the bald stumps, making sure he was using the best sewing he learned from high school Home Economics. It was a while ago, but one of the few skills he’d taken to. He was hopeless at cooking, but damn could he sew and stitch.
Erik inspected his handiwork after. It was good. The length of the fluff and faux fur were perfect. If he didn’t know where he’d sewn, he wouldn’t be able to tell. She just looked like a legless fluffy. Erik smirked as he left.
The foals were starting to get bigger. The oldest were getting teeth now, and curious about ‘big fluffy’ food. Which meant they’d have to have homes soon. He had some offers for the others…except Brownie. Poor Brownie was left unwanted, likely because she was a plain brown fluffy. Even if he found the brown pretty like wood or chocolate, others didn’t like her. Even with the uniqueness of a transplanted leg. Erik went to visit them, checking up on them after their bath. Now that the fear had worn off, they liked smelling pretty. The older ones ran around, singing tunelessly about how pretty they were. Erik realized he’d miss having them around. He’d keep Goldenrod and Brownie, but the rest he’d miss terribly. Even the new foals, who were toddling around on unsteady legs, sniffing each other. He’d have to sell them too. They were all pretty enough that he was sure he’d have no problems. None of them had behavior issues either.
He decided to introduce the older foals to milk softened kibble. He prepared it for them, and walked in. “Hey, fluffs.” He said. He heard the cry go up of ‘Daddeh!’ And was swarmed by all the fluffs. “Alright, alright. Daddeh loves you. Clear a path, okay?” He managed to get some space. “Goldenrod, Midnight, Spot, Brownie, and Camo. You foals are growing up and getting teeth. That means you get to try something new. You get big fluffy food.” He made it sound exciting. “This stuff is kibble. I made it softer with milk for you babbehs since your teeth aren’t fully in yet.” He told them. The younger ones looked interested.
“Cloudy, Peppermint, Sunrise, and Knight. You four are still too young for kibble.” He said, to their disappointment. “You’ll get to try it when you get teeth. Just enjoy milk for now. The kibble isn’t going anywhere.” He knew the foals just wanted to grow up like any other kid. It was a teeny bit of jealousy that the older foals got to do more. Though Erik knew it also meant they could get into more trouble.
When he left, he decided he would watch through the camera a while. He hand’t disconnected it yet. He didn’t know if he would. He got to see the fluffies when they didn’t know they were being watched. He’d make sure there was no misbehavior.
Eating was an okay affair, and all the foals used the litter box. Erik waited until trouble started. It didn’t take long.
It was over the stuffie friend. Erik had bought two of them, thinking they could reliably share. One was a regular sized foal stuffie friend, the other was the stuffie friend jr, for chirpies or walkie talkie babbehs. Normally the play structure was the most popular. This time, though, Camo was snuggling the stuffie friend. It was easily her favorite. Brownie…she actually puffed her cheeks out at Camo! Sweet, shy Camo, who whimpered to see the puffed cheeks.
“Wha sissy Bwownie doin?” She asked, half hidden behind her stuffie friend.
“Bwownie wan pway wif stuffie fwiend. Weggies wan huggies!” She said, stomping the transplanted hoof.
“Buh…Camo wan pway wif stuffie fwiend…can shawe…” Camo trembled a bit.
“No wan shawe. Wan fwiend. Nao!” Brownie stomped the hoof again.
Oh hell no. Erik stood up, feeling angered. He made his way to the room, knocking on the doorframe before coming in.
The reaction was immediate. Camo looked towards Erik hopefully. Brownie looked shocked and scared but quickly tackled her sister in what could be mistaken as a hug if Erik didn’t know better. “Brownie, come on over here. We need to have a talk.” He managed to keep his voice even, but something about his expression made Brownie nervous. Or perhaps it was her guilt.
“Wha, daddeh?” Brownie asked, toddling over. Her ears and tail were low. She knew she did wrong. Somehow her daddeh knew.
Erik snatched up Brownie by the scruff. “Brownie. I noticed you’ve been having trouble with your leggie.” He said. “Has it been making you do bad things?” He had an idea. This should make her behave.
Brownie quickly nodded. “Yus. Fluffy’s weggie du bad tings!” She said.
Erik sighed. She was taking the bait, lying through her muzzle. “That’s a shame. If the leggie is bad, we’ll have to get rid of it.”
Brownie’s smile dropped, and she made scaredy poopies right there. “Wha?”
“And now you made scaredy poopies. You’re gonna need the sorry stick for that.” He took her out of the room, leaving her in the sink while he cleaned the poop. He told the other fluffies Brownie needed to be punished. It broke his heart to think he was messing up another fluffy somehow. He decided that Brownie had time to think about her decision. Was she going to try to lie if Erik threatened to cut off her leg? He wouldn’t…at least not as long as Brownie was salvageable but he should be able to scare her into obedience. Especially since it seemed he was going to keep her.
Coming back into the bathroom, the fluffy adolescent was trembling, looking nervously up at the faucet where the scawy wawa would come out. “Daddeh! Pwease don take weggie!” She pleaded. “Wan keep weggie!”
“Even if it makes you do bad things? You did say it made you be mean to your siblings.” He’d give her a chance to tell the truth.
“W…weggie nu am bad…” Brownie finally admitted.
“So you mean to say not only were you mean to your sister for no reason, but you lied to me, AND pooped on the floor?” He asked. He could see Brownie looking more scared by the minute.
“F-fwuffy su sowwy. Pwomise neva du id ‘gain…” Brownie claimed.
Erik twisted his wrist twice, giving Brownie a blast of cold water.
“Screeeee!” Brownie cried, and tried to run, but was only going in a circle, pissing and shitting. “Wawa am bad for fwuffy!” She cried. “Daddeh! Sabe babbeh!” She tried to climb up the edges of the sink.
“Brownie, you are lying constantly. You need a punishment. Sorry sticking isn’t enough for this.” He said. He had an idea. “I’m going to make your leggie go away for some time. You’re not nice enough to have it.” He said.
“Nu! Wan weggie! Nee weggie fo pway!” Brownie protested.
“You’re using that leg to bully your siblings.” Erik claimed.
It took some time, but he found some hair ties from back when his hair was long. They were simple, black elastic bands. He took two, and pinned Brownie’s transplanted leg to her body, ignoring the struggles. She was getting a sorry sticking after this. When he set her down, she fell to her nose, and started crying.
“Nuuu! Whewe weggie gu? Pwease cum back, weggie!” Brownie cried.
Erik left to get the sorry stick. She was big enough to get the adult sorry stick. coming back with it, Brownie’s eyes widened. She’d never seen such a big sorry stick. Only the jr.
“Brownie, you get ten hits with the sorry stick. You’ve lied to me as your daddeh, and you were mean to your sister. You didn’t want to wait your turn for a toy. You pooped on my floors, and now in my sink.” He listed her ‘crimes’ before punishing her, so she would understand why she’s being punished. He had to pin Brownie to the sink bottom, still soiled by her. He brought down the stick on her, perhaps lighter than what was recommended.
“SCREEEEEEE! OWIES! WAI HUWT BABBEH?” Brownie was acting like she’d been stabbed instead of lightly slapped with a plastic rod tipped with rubber.
“You KNOW why, Brownie.” Erik scowled. Was she not getting it? What was he doing wrong!? He administered the rest of the sorry sticking, ignoring Brownie’s screes and begging. Her three legs flailed and Erik turned the water on. He kept her face out of the water so she couldn’t drown.
Finally he took her out of it. He’d read somewhere that rolling the fluffy up like a burrito was a good way to keep them out of trouble and dry them. So he did that while he went to explain to the rest of the foals.
“Brownie was a bad fluffy. So her new leggie left for a while. If she’s good, it’ll come back.” Erik said. He knew Brownie would change her behavior quick. If the idea of her leg going away wasn’t enough motivation, the thought of punishment would cement it.
He went back to get Brownie, who’s face was still wet but from tears instead of bathwater. He dried her face, and put her back into the safe room. She’d gotten used to four legs, so her balance was off, being back to three. The rest of the foals gaped, the idea of leggies running or being taken away was one thing, but now they were seeing it! Though none of the fluffies were too keen to hug the crying Brownie. Looks like she was pretty mean to her siblings. Enough that they were in no mood to comfort her.
While Brownie trudged off to the nest, Erik went to check on Sleet. That dark part of him that was enjoying this wanted to mess with her, and see how his handiwork turned out on her.
He went to her closet, and opened the door. It looked like Sleet was sleeping, the sedative having done its job. He flicked her ear to wake her with a little ‘screee!’ of pain.
“D-daddeh? Seet hab scawy sweepie piktuwes. Dreamed Seet was born nu weggie dummeh fwuffy.” She said.
Erik pretended to wince. “Uh, Sleet…you don’t have leggies. You were born without them.” He brought over the mirror he’d set up in the safe room so Sleet could catch sight of herself being a no leg fluffy. He positioned it so she could see her body. The faux fur stitched over the holes that made it look like she never had legs. Like a fluffy sausage.
“NUUUUUUUUU!” Sleet screamed, looking horrified. She began thrashing. “IS BAD DWEAM! NU AM TWUE! SCREEEEEEEEE! SCREEEEEEE!”
Erik hid a smile at the fluffy’s little existential crisis. “I’ve always taken care of you like this, Sleet. But you were still so mean to your babbehs.”
“Buh…buh…” Sleet suddenly seemed to have a brainwave; something exceedingly rare for a fluffy. “Seet gave sowwy hoofsies tu poopie babbeh!” She said, somehow still proud of her accomplishments.
Erik shook his head. “No. You bit it off. I left you too close to them.” He got the nearby sorry stick, and brought it down on her. “And hurting your babbehs is NOT something to be proud of. You even hurt the babbehs you thought were pretty.”
“Buh huwt poopeh babbehs an munstah babbehs.” Sleet tried to protest. “Dat am gud ting.”
“No, it’s not. They’re still your babbehs. What if a fluffy hit you because they thought you were ugly?” Erik paused. Actually…there was an idea. Get a very intolerant fluffy and let them meet under the guise of a play date. Surely there were people who made their fluffies aggressive. Erik decided to set it up. He gave a sigh, as if he were too sad to be around Sleet anymore and ‘accidentally’ left the mirror close enough for Sleet to see herself in the corner of her admittedly bad vision, but too far for her to knock the mirror over. She began to sob, especially as ‘Dancie Babbehs’ came on TV, showing all the happy fluffies and pretty babbehs with legs dancing around.
Erik wasted no time in his ad this time in an abuse forum. He wanted a fluffy that was intolerant of others to be mean to his legless fluffy. He added a bit about why she was being abused, and was unsure why. Maybe to keep the guise that this was just punishment? Either way, he wanted her to feel what it was like to be on the receiving end of being told she wasn’t pretty. He wanted her a little roughed up, but not dead. So a fluffy that either showed restraint, or was younger was ideal.
A few people responded at first. Some saying he didn’t need to post her life story. A few suggested to just kill her. Looks like he’d have to wait for any quality response.
It wasn’t long until Erik had a good response. This guy was raising a smarty, for some unknown reason. It was still young, and he wanted to get it to attack other fluffies. Sleet was far bigger than him, so unless it went for Sleet’s eyes, there would be no problem. Erik checked the picture. It was a red unicorn with a green tail and green mane growing in, puffed cheeks, looking already like a hellgremlin in the making. Perfect. Sleet had no problem with colors like this. It wasn’t quite a babbeh either. Erik messaged him, glad to accept the offer.
It took only a few days to set up where they could meet. It was going to be at Erik’s house. He’d considered another location, but he couldn’t leave the foals, nor did he want to take the whole group of them. They’d ask too many questions, especially about why Sleet was getting hurt or why she’d be crying after. In the end, it was best to have it done in his home.
When the man came, he gave off serious abuser vibes. He had an odd look in his eyes, and a battered pet carrier. He tilted his head to hear the sound of the foals faintly. “You’ve got other ones?” He asked.
“Sleet’s foals. I’m selling them, so they’re off limits. I’m keeping two of them. One of them…if she doesn’t shape up, we might be meeting again.” Erik explained. “Let me bring Sleet in here, and you can get…Rocket, was it? You can get him out.” he said. With that he went to get his fluffy, who was suitably convinced she was legless. Erik hadn’t let up showing her the edited pictures of her without legs, refuting her memories with legs. Either claiming what ‘really happened’ or telling her it was a dream. His fluffy was now convinced she was born without leggies. The edited photos of her as a babbeh were a nice touch. They drove the point home to Sleet. Erik kept trying to connect a punishment with being mean to her babbehs, but that part wasn’t getting through. Hopefully that would change today.
Erik picked up Sleet, which woke her up. “Sleet, I set up a play date. Another fluffy for you to meet.” Erik’s smile was false, his tone sickly sweet. Sleet perked up in his arms.
“Nyu fwiend?” She asked, her tail wagging.
Erik nodded, briefly wondering if her tail should be the next to go, if he had to make her an uglier fluffy. “A new friend.” He said. He took her into the living room, and saw the guy see the work Erik done. Erik had described it, but the buy seemed delighted to actually see it. “How in the world did you match it?” He asked.
“A fabric company. They make faux fur. You just have to find the right color and cut it to length. It was the sewing that was hard. I never thought home ec. class would come in handy for this. He said. He saw the little hellgremlin, stomping around, demanding to know where he was.
Erik set Sleet down. “Rocket. Here’s your new friend!” He said. “This is Sleet.”
The hellgremlin looked over. As soon as he saw Sleet and the lack of legs he snorted out his nose. “Dat dummeh nu weggie fwuffy. Nu wike!” He proclaimed.
Sleet’s heart could have broken right there as her face fell. From an expression full of joy to play with another fluffy to despair that it had rejected her. He called her a dummeh! She wasn’t a dummeh! “Seet nu dummeh! Wai fwuffy mean to Seet?” She asked, bursting out into tears.
Rocket huffed and turned, lifting his tail.
Erik looked over at the guy, alarmed.
“Don’t worry. I emptied him.” His owner said, relaxed. “It might still stink, though.” He warned.
Erik then heard a loud ‘PBBBBRRRTTT’. He turned, but there was no brown mess. However, he could have sworn he saw the noxious cloud of gas that emitted from that fluffy’s ass to his fluffy’s face. A few seconds later, the smell hit him, and Erik was coughing as bad as Sleet. “What the f*ck?” He asked, looking at the guy, who was grinning.
“I did empty him, but with what I feed him, he’s got terrible gas. It killed a foal in an enclosed space once.” The guy laughed, apparently used to the stench.
Erik couldn’t help but admire that tactic a little. Even if it means he’d likely have to use a whole can of air freshener. Maybe more.
Rocket had moved on to giving sorry hoofsies and bucking the ugly fluffy. His daddeh wanted him to play with an ugly dummeh? No! He was a smarty! He gets only the best! She wasn’t pretty enough to play with him. She was only good for an enfie friend! Rocket began to circle behind her.
“Uh, are you okay if he…”
“Yeah. She’s fixed now. After her being a bitch twice, I’m not putting up with a third pregnancy. I don’t think I’d be able to handle three litters around the house either. The two I’ve got have enough drama.” Erik said.
Sleet was trying to wiggle away. “Nu wan speshul fwiend. Woket am too widdle!” Rocket had barely hit maturity. Enough that he was feeling urges, but it was not recommended he have a special friend yet. They usually recommended an enfie toy first so the fluffy had a way to take out their growing frustrations. They weren’t emotionally ready for a special friend yet. He gave Sleet a sorry hoofsie. “Shaddup. Woket wan speshul huggies!” He yelled. He mounted Sleet from behind, and started enfing.
“Nuuu! Bad speshul huggies!” Sleet cried, getting smacked whenever Rocket decided she was too loud.
Erik had begun showing the guy pictures of his process, how he tricked Sleet, and the photos he edited. Apparently the guy was interested in trying his hand at a legless fluffy. They ignored Sleet as she cried and as Rocket abused her, calling her an ugly dummeh and an enfie toy.
By the time company left, Sleet was a sobbing mess. Erik picked her up, taking her to the bathroom. She needed a wash. “Sleet. I want you to remember how you feel. This is how your babbehs felt when you rejected them, and called them ugly. When you called them dummeh and poopeh because of how they looked.” He said in a serious tone. Sleet only looked up at him tearfully. Erik wasn’t even sure if she got it. He washed her in cool water. He was pretty sure the last time she got a warm bath was her first pregnancy. She only got cool or cold water baths now.
Would this lesson sink in? He’d have to wait and see.