fable foal foal-abuse foal-fables moral


Foal Fables

A Special Place

Leafy was a little foal who had experienced quite a poor start in life.

His mother was a yellow mare who lived under a greenhouse overlooking a beautiful vegetable garden in the countryside, and she had decided when she was pregnant that she wanted exactly three foals: one for each of her favorite flower colors, purple, pink, and white. Miraculously, she’d gotten exactly what she wished for. Three foals, purple, pink, and white, which she named Lavender, Tulip, and Lily.

Unfortunately, Leafy was green, so there was simply no place for him in his mother’s perfect family. Almost instantaneously after he’d been born, he’d been cast aside to the corner as an afterthought, only to be touched when it was time for feeding. If he dared to wander out from his corner to try and join his siblings, his mother would harshly beat him with her hoof and toss him back to his place. Poor Leafy spent the first two weeks of his life sat in a mess of his own urine and feces, staring longingly at his mother and siblings as they cuddled and nuzzled one another, the picture of a perfect Fluffy family.

Yet, like all Fluffies, Leafy was an unwavering optimist, and he still believed after all this heartache that his mother loved him dearly, and he dearly loved his mother back. Though she didn’t show it during the day, Leafy believed that his mother loved him the same as all her other foals, because sometimes at night he’d sneak over to her and snuggle in with his other siblings.

In her sleep, his mother would gently nudge and lick her foals, and sometimes she’d even do the same to Leafy.

Though she’d always go back to her callous, unsympathetic ways the morning after, Leafy believed this was all the proof he needed that she really cared for him, so he continued to carry on through his days with a big smile on his face.

The very same day all of her foals became two weeks old, Leafy’s mother decided it was time to take them out to see the world. She led them all out from under the greenhouse through the little Fluffy door that the old farmer had generously installed for them and out into the vegetable garden. From there, she organized them all into a perfect single file line and began to proudly lead them down the cobblestone path like a mother duck leading her ducklings.

Leafy trailed behind, his eyes wide and his mouth wider with pure awe. There were so many things to see in this brand new land: tall rustling trees, beautiful flower bushes, rolling fields of grass the same color as his fluff, lazy farm animals wandering about in the distance, and a cornucopia of fresh vegetables ready to be munched on.

Leafy’s mother led them all throughout the farm and finally looped back around to take them home.

When they got back to their greenhouse, Leafy was ecstatic with joy. He wanted to curl up in his little corner and dream wonderful dreams about all the things he’d seen that day. He paused in front of the Fluffy door and crouched down, wiggling his rump, preparing to leap through.

But just before he made it, the Fluffy door slammed shut in his face, causing him to smack into it muzzle first and fall backwards on his bottom.

Leafy rubbed his sore nose and stared up, bewildered, at the Fluffy door, unable to understand why it had closed in front of him instead of behind. “Mummah?” the innocent foal called out, tapping his hooves gently on the door. “Mummah, ‘ou fowgot me!” There was no answer, so Leafy continued to paw at the door and call out to his mother, expecting her at any moment to appear and whisk him inside. He stayed there for hours into the night, begging at the door, until he finally collapsed from exhaustion and fell into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, he was surprised to be awoken by his mother stepping over him, followed by each of his three siblings jumping on his belly and blowing a raspberry in succession as they passed.

For a moment Leafy stared after them with confusion, before a wide, goofy grin spread across his face and he gleefully cried out “Mummah!” He leaped to his hooves and bounded over to greet her, burying his tiny, dirt stained face into her fluff. “Mummah! Mummah! ‘Ouw back! ‘Ouw…baaAAA!” Leafy’s sentiments were cut short by an abrupt blow to the face by his mother’s hoof. He flopped over on his back and let out a wail of pain, clutching his sore cheek with his hooves.

“Siwwy widdwe gween babbeh,” his mother scorned. “Don’ ‘ou undewstan’? Mummah don’ wan’ ‘ou nu mowe!” And with that she threw her muzzle high in the air and spun around, leading her three perfect children away from the scene.

Leafy spent the next five minutes lying on his back in the dirt blubbering and flailing his hooves. Despite the cause of his misery clearly being a sorry hoofsie from his mother, he still expected at any moment that his mother would come rushing up to him to give him huggies to soothe his pain.

Like all Fluffies, Leafy was programmed to love and trust his mother no matter what. It was impossible for such a tiny foal to ever believe his mother would do anything but coddle and cherish them. In fact, after he’d been wriggling pathetically in the dirt for five minutes, the foal had entirely forgotten how he’d even ended up there in the first place. All he knew was that he was outside in the daylight, which meant it must be time for a walk, and that he was lying there holding his boo boo instead of running straight to his mother to let her handle it. The situation seemed so absurd in his mind that the foal even let out a little chuckle.

“Siwwy Weafy,” the foal giggled. “Why ‘ou wying in da diwt with a boo boo? Mummah wiww hewp ‘ou!” And so he cheerfully skipped down the cobblestone path to see his mother, completely oblivious to the events that had happened beforehand. He completely failed to notice the glares of his siblings as he approached and plopped down right in front of his mother, gently caressing his cheek with his hoof. “Mummah, Weafy hab a boo boo,” he sniffled, peering up at her expectantly.

“Oh, mummah’s poow widdwe babbeh,” his mother simpered.

Leafy closed his eyes and smiled from ear to ear, ready to be smothered in sympathy. Instead, he was met with a hard whack to the muzzle that sent him flying backwards. His eyes popped open and he opened his mouth to scream, but he was met with another blow that knocked the wind right out of his lungs and sent him tumbling across the cobblestone. As he flailed and gasped in agony, his mother appeared behind him again and kicked him in the rump, knocking him off the cobblestone path and into the dirt.

His mother walloped him with her hooves again and again, her three perfect foals looking on and rolling around in laughter all the while. When she was done, Leafy was covered from head to hoof in painful bumps and bruises. “Now ‘ou got WOTS!” his mother exclaimed with a cheerful smile, abruptly turning on her hooves and waddling away with her nose in the air.

Each of his siblings blew a raspberry at him before turning and trailing behind her, their laughter fading into the distance as they went.

Devastated and confused, Leafy sat in shocked, agonized silence for several seconds after they left. Finally, he let out a shriek of excruciating pain and rolled onto his back, stuttering, babbling, and waggling his hooves as his tiny brain attempted to process what had just occurred. Unable to find any explanation in time, his pain quickly drowned out his thoughts and he simply stayed screaming in the dirt for a good ten minutes, overtaken in his anguish. As the pain dulled, his thoughts returned to him, and Leafy found that he wasn’t quite sure how he’d ended up in this predicament. All he knew was that he needed his mother, and he needed her right now. He weakly pulled his broken body out of the dirt and limped off as fast as he could go, ready to receive the healing hugs of his mother. “Mummah! Mummah! Weafy hab wowstest boo boos!” he whined. The foal hobbled all the way across the farm to where his mother and siblings were and collapsed in a heap just a few feet behind, curling his lip and huu huuing pitifully. “Mummah! Widdwe babbeh Weafy hab wowstest boo boos! Nee huggies!” he called out to her.

His mother slowly turned to face him, her face scrunched into a scowl and her eyes wide with anger. “Babbehs?”

“Yes, mummah?” Lavender, Tulip, and Lily all politely peeped in unison.

“Teach gween babbeh a wesson,” she ordered.

“Yes, mummah,” the three foals replied, wicked smirks spreading across their faces. They wandered over to Leafy and formed a circle around him, snickering and sneering all the while.

Leafy sniffled sadly and held out his tiny hooves, expecting to be met with a tender embrace from his three siblings. Instead, he was met with a hard shove to the back of his head that sent his face smashing into the dirt. He let out a miserable wail and looked upwards with a bloodied muzzle, trying to find answers as to why his sibling’s huggies seemed to be hurting him. He didn’t have time to contemplate the situation for long, however, because soon another push sent his face right back into the dirt again.

His siblings cackled with glee, taking turns driving their brother’s face into the ground while he blubbered and bawled in despair. The punishment lasted for five minutes, but to Leafy, it might as well been five hours. During the middle of their game, the three foals all spit into the dirt in front of him to turn it to mud and buried his face into it a few more times with pleasure. Finally satisfied they’d gotten their point across, they all skipped joyfully back to their waiting mother, and she led them away without so much as a glance backwards.

Leafy was left to endure his injuries in silence for the rest of the day, until he finally regained enough strength to crawl back to the greenhouse and collapse in front of the door. He lifted his frail hooves and tapped at the wood in a feeble attempt to catch his mother’s attention. “Mummah! Mummah! Weafy hab wowstest boo boos…”

This same routine continued on for days until it finally began to dawn on the foal that his mother didn’t want him around anymore. He no longer followed his mother when she took his siblings out on walks, but being the naïve creature that he was, he still stayed faithfully stationed at the Fluffy door. Despite all he’d been through, he still believed that his mother loved him, and he was unwilling to move from the nearest spot he could get to her. This was just as well, because there was no place for a Fluffy foal anywhere else on the farm.

From then on he spent his time curled up in front of the Fluffy door, rubbing his muzzle and cheeks across the smooth wood as if it were the Fluff of his mother. Fantasies of his family filled his mind: he imagined himself snuggled in with his siblings, receiving warm tongue baths from his mother while she carried on about how she had “such gud babbehs!” and romping through the vegetable garden with his siblings playing hide and seek while they giggled and cooed lovingly after him and performing dancies and tricks while his family cheered him on and clapped their hooves. These visions completely enveloped his mind, as they were the only thing he had left to occupy his time when he wasn’t sleeping.

Another week passed in Leafy’s life, and then one afternoon, everything changed.

While cuddling against the Fluffy door, far away in a fantasy, Leafy was suddenly snapped back to reality when he realized that something was blocking out the sun above him. He peered upwards to behold a mysterious stranger, who was smiling down at him warmly.

“Hello, little one. What are you doing down there? Where’s your mother?” the stranger inquired with a kindly voice.

Leafy sniffled pitifully and let out a gentle huu. “Mummah!” he cried out tearfully. “Mummah weave Weafy aww awone! Mummah nu wan’ Weafy awound…Weafy hab nu pwace to go!” The reality of his predicament rushing back to him, he collapsed into a weeping mess, blubbering and babbling for his mother.

“That’s such a terrible shame,” the stranger sighed, shaking their head. “No foal should ever be cast out into the cold like that…no place to go, you say? Every foal has a special place in this world, you know. Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

Leafy sobbed for several seconds more before the stranger’s words finally sank in, and he realized that they were inviting him to go home with them. The tiny foal immediately perked up, and a giant grin spread across his chubby face. “Weawwy? Weafy can come wiff ‘ou?”

The stranger politely put their hand over their mouth and let out a chuckle. “Yes, little one. Come home with me. Let me show you your special place.”

Leafy was delighted. In seconds he returned to his cheerful old self, bounding in circles around his new owner and giggling with glee. “Tank ‘ou! Tank ‘ou! Weafy wuv ‘ou!”

The stranger led Leafy away from the farm and down the road a little ways to a quaint wooden house on the edge of the forest. They opened the front door wide and allowed the foal to toddle inside and explore the rooms around the house to his content. After a while, the stranger crouched down beside him and announced, “Now, it’s time to get you ready. Come here, little one. Let me give you a bath to wash all that dirt off your face!” The stranger scooped Leafy up off the floor and gave him a little tickle on the nose, causing him to let out a loving giggle.

The stranger spent the next fifteen minutes lathering the little foal up in a tiny tub and washing away all the tears, dirt, and feces that stained his coat.

When they were done, Leafy felt like the most loved Fluffy in the whole wide world. He gazed up at his new owner with wide eyes and a pleasant smile, ready for anything they had planned next.

“Now, it’s time to give you a special bath,” the stranger told him.

“Speshul baff?” asked Leafy, tilting his head to the side inquisitively.

“Yes, a special bath. For a special foal,” the stranger answered, lifting him up in their arms and carrying him off to a different room of the house. The stranger set the foal down in a brand new tub and filled it up with water just like before. Then they disappeared from sight, making a strange tapping sound and humming while they worked.

Leafy stood on his tippy toes and peered up out of the tub in anticipation, wondering what his brand new owner had in store for him. “Daddeh! …Mummah? Is this Weafy’s speshul pwace?

“No, silly,” came a patient reply. “You’ll see your special place soon enough. Now, do you know why this is a special bath?”


“Well, this is a special bath because it has special nummies!” the stranger exclaimed, appearing over the side of the tub and pouring a bowl full of chopped carrots into the water.

“Weawwy? Nummies fow Weafy?” the foal cried out in awe.

“Yes, all for you, my little friend,” the stranger answered, giving him a wide smile that revealed a row of strangely pointy, glistening teeth.

Leafy squealed out in delight and splashed around in the tub, cheerfully batting at the carrots bobbing in the water. He’d never been happier in his whole life. He continued to romp around in complete bliss as the stranger continued on working, adding potatoes, peas, tomatoes, and corn into the mix and gently stirring the water with a wooden spoon. All seemed well for a while, until Leafy started to notice something peculiar. He cringed and curled up his forelegs, realizing the bottom of his bathtub had gotten much too hot to walk on with his sensitive little hooves. “Daddeh! Weafy’s baff is too hawt!” he peeped.

“Oh, but it’s just started heating up,” the stranger replied. “It’s just the temperature it should be.”

Leafy trusted his new owner implicitly, so he tried to ignore the problem and continue on playing with his nummie bath toys, but it wasn’t long until the rest of the water became too much to bear. The tiny foal began sobbing and flailing his hooves, unable to escape the heat. “Daddeh! Daddeh! Babbeh’s baff too hawt! Weafy hab buwnie boo boos!” the foal called out, holding out his hooves with the anticipation that his new owner would whisk him to safety.

“Now, now. That’s no way to go. Let’s try to have some dignity, shall we?” the stranger sighed, shaking their head down at him. They disappeared from sight, then reappeared with an assortment of spices to sprinkle into the bath.

Leafy’s weak sobbing soon turned into panicked screams of agony as the water started to boil beneath him. He spent the next ten minutes flailing around in the pot, shrieking in terror and unspeakable pain, as he was cooked alive within. Finally, Leafy succumbed to his burns and died, disappearing under the colorful swirling vegetables never to reemerge.

The stranger continued to stir and spice their soup for a while until they were satisfied, then retrieved a bowl and a ladle from the cabinet and poured themselves a generous helping.

That evening, Leafy would find his special place resting inside the stranger’s belly as they napped blissfully in their armchair by the fireplace.

And the following winter, four more Fluffies from the farm would find themselves fashioned into a delightful pair of matching scarf and mittens.


Every creature has its own special place in the world.
Uploader Pom,
Tags fable foal foal-abuse foal-fables moral
Locked No
Parent None
Rating Safe


- Reply
AnonymousFluffery: I liked this one a bit more than your other efforts. It felt more internally consistent, no fluffies acting super-intelligent... I see that again you're doing that thing where you leave the identity of the human presence a mystery. I can't say I'm a fan, but at least this time it didn't seem like you were setting up a bunch of circumstantial evidence and hoping people guessed your mind to get something out of the story. Anyway, I didn't mean to make all that sound insulting, I just mean that I think this is your best story yet, and look forward to even more improvement.
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Nocturn: I like it. Truly disturbing and painful in the best of ways. I hope to see more of your work

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guodzilla: THE...
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Flufftopia: I quite like your stories. You do the innocent, cute, but dense fluffy really well. Having set up your character so well and made people root for (or perhaps against...) poor Leafy I think maybe you could have got away with milking a tiny bit more betrayal, pain, confusion, and perhaps even a little bit of dim realisation at his end. Maybe I'm just a sadist, though.
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Sorrowkandy: I'm absolutely giddy over the torment of Leafy. I wanna write something like this in the future.
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TheFoalFryer: Hhmm, points for abuse but a point deducted for not punishing the mare and her little shits. So.... Two points out of three
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Pom: @AnonymousFluffery: I like stories that leave certain elements to the imagination, or prompt the reader to put together the pieces of the story themselves. To me, it makes the work far more unsettling to never fully understand what’s going on. And the concept of a company creating living children’s toys, with the subsequent torture of them, is already unsettling enough. The identity of the stranger in this story was kept a mystery for a different reason than it was for the characters in my first two stories. Everything else I have planned from here on out will be incredibly straightforward, though.
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Pom: @TheFoalFryer: What if I told you that the mare and her three foals were the ones who were turned into a scarf and mittens at the end?
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TheFoalFryer: @Pom: then I'd say you've earned back that point... If I sounded like a douchebag, I'm sorry. I only did the point thing to be comedic
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Fiberglass: What's cookin, Doc?
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GayNiggerFromOuterSpace: Eww, he cooked him with the fur on still? Das nasty
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shaithis1: Aaaand Leafy ruined the soup because he shit in it in his distress because they guy forgot to have him shit himself empty before hand.
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Anonymous1: @Pom: i can dig it