abuse artist:draytini blood brain brain_damage fluffy_on_fluffy foal_on_foal_abuse leg_ripping mental_break pillowing regression


* * *

“Jesus Matt, how many fluffies do you have!?” Tiffany’s arms were crossed in stern disapproval.

“It’s not that many!”

“Chestnut had six foals, you have Arion and Chestnut, plus Licorice.” She said. “And you have the five in the pen downstairs, the feral, and the three canned foals. That’s, what, nineteen fluffies!?”

“I- uh, well when you put it like that…”

“This is absurd. You have a problem!”

In the safe room, Chelsea, Tiffany’s wife, played with Arion and Almond. The two had been so excited to be meeting a new friend, and Matt was happily watching them run and play with her.

“Listen,” Tiffany said. “You have to get rid of some. I strongly suggest getting rid of the downstairs ones, especially since they’re dying. And you have to get rid of Chestnut’s foals.”

“They’re not even weaned yet!” Matt protested.

“It doesn’t Matter, Matt. Chestnut is not doing well.”

Tiffany was right. Chestnut’s fur was dull, and she was lethargic. Matt had set up the treadmills inside the saferoom, and Arion and Almond had adored them: they’d immediately started to “race” each other and then flopped into a pile to sleep when they were exhausted. It had really helped Arion’s attitude as well.

Chestnut, however, had shown little interest in them. She was obsessed with her babies, and always tried to keep them near her. She had gotten fatter, and her teats were sagging due to the excess pudge.

“If you keep up like this, none of the fluffies you actually give a shit about will be okay. You cannot take care of this many fluffies, even if you intend to kill half of them.”

“I… you’re right.” Matt conceded. “I suppose I have too many…”

“Great. Let’s start purging. How about we start downstairs?” Tiffany smiled. “We can have fun getting rid of those.”

Matt smiled. Why not have some fun in getting rid of his excess fluffies?

“What about Chestnut’s foals?”

“Well, I can help you find good owners who want to raise foals. Or, if you’d like, I could find them… less kind homes?”

“No, no. They should go to good homes.”

“Alright. I can help find them good owners, ones who will take good care of them. It’ll take some time, and I’ll need some pictures. Wanna do that now, or later?”

“Later. Let’s blow off steam, first.”

“Sounds good. Let me grab Chelsea.”

Tiffany walked off, heading towards the safe room.

Unsurprisingly Chelsea was found playing with all the foals, wide eyed and grinning like a fool. Chelsea wasn’t like Tiffany and Matt; she loved fluffies. Marshmallow had been her idea, and her influence had softened Tiffany to actually giving a shit about fluffies – something vet school had basically robbed her of.

“Oh my god, Matt! They are so cute!”

“Thanks.” Matt chuckled. He looked over at Chestnut, who was fast asleep. Her babies were taking a lot out of her.

“Tiff, how old do you think Chestnut is?”

“Well, from her teeth and coat, as well as her hooves, I’d guess somewhere around… four or five years?”

“That’s young, right?”

“Well… yes and no. Domestic fluffies usually live somewhere between eight and twelve years, depending on the care their owners give them. Disease, poor nutrition, and stress shorten the lives of ferals dramatically. They usually only live… maybe five, six years? If they’re not killed, that is.”

“But Chestnut is in good shape, right?”

Tiffany frowned. Chestnut was sleeping peacefully, but even from here Tiffany could see the shape the fluffy was in. To Matt, she probably just looked tired. But to Tiffany’s trained eye the signs of age were clear. A domestic fluffy would be in their prime from four years old until about nine. If an owner took care of them, fluffies could live very comfortable and happy lives. The only ferals that could live as long as a normal domestic fluffy were the ones who had been adopted from a very young age and taken care of.

“She’s in a lot better shape than she could have been. But… Well, she’s pretty old.”

“She’s not… dying, is she?”

“Not yet,” Tiffany said. “But in all reality, she probably only has a couple years left at most. That’s why you need to get rid of her foals; the stress of raising them is exhausting her. It would be different if she was younger or this had been her first litter, but from what you told me this is probably her third.”

It was sad. Matt really liked Chestnut and she had been such a sweet mother and a good fluffy. He hadn’t spent as much time with her as he would have liked.

When the foals were gone and he’d emptied the basement, he’d spend more time with his fluffies.

“Hey, don’t worry. You gave her a great life, much better than anything she’d have in the wild.” Tiffany smiled and gently placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Now let’s go downstairs.”

* * *

Matt had been worried about Chelsea’s reaction to his torture-basement. She was bright eyed and almost childish in her interactions with fluffies: mimicking their baby-talk, getting down on all fours to be close to them, even playing huggie-tag with them. It was absurdly cute, but Matt had seriously questioned Tiffany’s invite.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay, Chelsea?” Matt asked. “I-uh, don’t know what Tiffany told you but…”

“Oh please, I’ve seen what Tiff does. You’re not gonna freak me out.”

“Well… If you’re sure?”

The fluffies immediately started to cry out in joy at seeing their “daddy” as they three of them headed downstairs.

Matt couldn’t help but grin at the harsh divide between his penned fluffies and the ones in cages. The fluffies he’d been experimenting on with hormones were all doing poorly, but were still generally happy and friendly.

The fluffies in the cages, however, were not doing great. Matt had been taking the minimal care of them, and had basically ignored them. The grey foal stuck inside her can was lethargic and depressed. She laid on her side almost all day and barely reacted to noise or light.

She was full, had no waste in her home, and was warm, but lacked crucial physical comfort and social interaction. Matt was hoping she’d open her eyes soon, so she could watch him ignore her.

“Okay, so which ones do you want to keep?” Tiffany asked, leaning into the pen and gently stroking Rosie.

“Well… the foals I just got I’d like to hang on to…”

“Okay, but that’s three. Why don’t you keep just them, and then we’ll start upstairs to help Chestnut be okay with her babies leaving.”

“Alright, sounds fair.”

Chelsea had made her way over to the pen, and had lifted July up into her arms. The fluffy was thin and lightweight, probably due to the sudden drop in testosterone.

“Well aren’t you just the cutest little girl!” Chelsea said, lifting July up.

“Siwwy wady! Juwy am stawwion!” He said, giggling. “Wuv upsies!”

“Oh silly July; boy fluffies have special-lumps! Where are yours?” She said.

“J-juwy nu kno. Bu’ am stawwion, nu am mawe.” He insisted, still enjoying the attention, but clearly distressed.

“Now, you’re not lying to me, are you?” Chelsea frowned, looking hurt at July.

“Nu! Fwuffy nu wiaw!”

“Then say it. You’re a good girl.” Chelsea’s face was cold and hard.


“Boy fluffies have special lumps.” She said, simply. “You don’t have any. So, you’re a mare.”

“Juwy am… am stawwion.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a mare.”

“Nu! Juwy am stawwion! Jus… am stawwion wif nu speshuw wumps!”

“July! You’re being a very bad fluffy!” She hefted July under her arm and grabbed a spare cardboard box from the corner, dumping the fluffy inside. “You can come out of the sorry box when you’re ready to accept that you’re a mare.”

“Nu! Nu sowwy boxie! Pw-”

The fluffy’s pleading was cut off as Chelsea closed the box and put a plank of wood on top to seal the fluff inside.

Matt stared at Chelsea, and looked back and forth between her smile and Tiffany’s smirk.

“Told you she’d be fine.”

* * *

In the safe room, Arion was eyeing the door. Tiffany’s special friend, Chelsea, had left the door open just a crack. Arion knew that he could leap the tiny fence that daddy had placed across the doorway. He knew daddy and the nice ladies were going to the basement – probably to see the fluffies that were down there.

Arion wanted to see what was down there, to see what lived in the basement. Maybe there was a fluffy-eating monster, or maybe there was… something else.

Arion was brought out of his trance by the sounds of fighting.

Chestnut was sleeping deeply; she had been exhausted by her foals and Chelsea had been playing with them for so long that she had finally had a chance to rest. Arion really liked Chestnut; she was like a surrogate mother to him, and he had watched her slowly get more and more exhausted with the birth of her foals.

Rousing himself from his nestie, Arion trotted over to the noise. The foals were all playing in a big circle, with Violet in the middle.

Tiffany had removed the white not-fluff from her back leggies, and Chestnut and her siblings had all hoped she’d be able to walk afterwards. Arion knew better: Tiffany had said the poor foal’s back leggies would never work, and she was right. Rather than walk, Violet had to drag herself by her front legs, bouncing her haunches on the ground a bit to assist in moving.

Arion was sad for her, but Violent seemed just fine: She wasn’t as fast as her siblings, having to drag herself, but she could keep up fairly well while playing ball and chasing her siblings.

However, the other foals didn’t want to play with her. And that was the source of the shouting now.

“Stoopi dummeh weggie sistuh!” Bruiser said, snorting at Violet. “Nu wan pway wif dummeh sistuh.”

“Dummeh nu weggie! Dummah nu weggie!” The other foals said, dancing around Violet and singing.

“Bad babbehs!” Arion said. He trotted over to Violet, who was crying in the middle of the circle of her siblings. “Why be meanines to gud sistuh?”

“Siwwy big bwuddah Awion!” Plum said, shaking her mane. “Viowet am dummeh nu-weggie fwuffy. Nu gud.”

“Dat am not twue.” Arion said. “Viowet am nice fwuffy, dat mean am gud fwuffy.”

“Nu… Viowet onwy wan be gud fwuffy fo’ mummah an’ bwuddah an’ sistuhs…” Violet said quietly.

“Shaddup dummeh sistuh!” Autumn said, kicking Violet in the side.

The filly yelped in pain, and started to cry. The kick hadn’t been hard enough to cause any real harm, but it was more the shock of being kicked and the mean words that prompted her tears.

Arion quickly went over to her, standing over the filly to protect her from the others.

“Bad babbehs! Nu say meanie wowds tu sisseh! Dat am bad! Shud be nice and pway!”

“Nu wan pway wif sistuh!” Bruiser said, blowing a raspberry at both Arion and Violet.

Rage filled Arion’s body; his chestier felt hot and his vision swam. He snarled; growling deep and gutturally at the babies. It startled them, and they all ran off, crying at the scary noise.

Arion had surprised himself; he didn’t know he could even make a noise like that. Violets tears pulled him from his shock, however, and he quickly curled around her.

“Am babbeh otay?”

“Nu… Viowet hab heawt-huwties… why am bwuddah an sistuh so meanie?”

“Awion dun kno,” He said, sadly. “Wen Awion was wittew babbeh, otha fwuffies meanie tu Awion tu.”

“Why fwuffies am meanies… Viowet jus’ wan gib huggies, and wuv, and be warmies and happeh…”

“Awion kno… Awion am sowwy.”

He looked over at Chestnut, who was still sleeping peacefully. He didn’t want to wake her to coddle Violet, and the other foals would be upset if Violet got more attention than they did.

“Come babbeh, we gon’ say hi tu Awmon’.”

Arion trotted slowly, making sure that Violet could keep up with him. The other babies played happily and ignored Violet, over their fright from Arion.

“Awion!” Almond said, happily standing and trotting over to him. “Babbeh am otay?”

“Nu. Babbeh hab heawt-huwties, mahbeh Awion an’ Viowet pway wif Awmon’ an’ Wicowice fo’ a wittew bit?”

“Yesh! Hm… Viowet wan pway baww?” Almond said, nudging the ball over to her.

“Otay… baww am fun… fank yu bigges’ sistuh Awmon’.” Violet said. She still spoke softly and with her eyes downturned, but once the game had begun and the fluffies were all rolling the ball to each other, she brightened up considerable.

She giggled and laughed, sitting on her haunches with her legs off to one side. Arion couldn’t help but smile as he looked at his rag-tag family. Almond, with her pretty brown eyes; Violet, smiling and enjoying herself; even the strangely quiet Licorice was smiling silently and enjoying the game.

Arion kept shooting glances at the other foals, each playing with each other and letting their mother rest. Violet was, thankfully, unconcerned with them and happy to play with her rag-tag adopted family.

It made Arion so mad to look at them, so happy and grinning when they had just hurt their sibling. Bad fluffies like them should be punished.

Arion was so focused on staring at the other fluffies that he hit the ball a little too hard. Instead of gently being batted towards Licorice, it flew off into the playing mound of babies.

Arion groaned, dreading going back over to them. Violet’s ears flattened when she saw where the ball had rolled: clearly even less excited to be around her siblings again.

“Awmon’ wiww get baww!” Almond said, happily prancing to her hooves. The tension was evident, and Almond didn’t exactly know why Arion and Violet looked so apprehensive, but she didn’t want them to be upset.

She trotted over to where the babies were playing, now also rolling the ball between them.

“Hewwo babbehs!” Almond said. She knew they were her siblings, but it was… weird to call them that. Even her mummah didn’t refer to her new babies as Almond’s sisters and brothers.

“Hewwo bigges’ sisseh Awmon’!” Asher said. The other foals stopped playing and looked over al Almond. Bruiser, Almond noticed, immediately nudged the ball behind him.

“Wat Awmon’ wan?” Bruiser asked. Almond was thrown off by how aggressive the foal was.

“Awion acci-den-awy push baww ovah hewe. Can Awmon’ pwease haf baww back?”

“Nu.” Bruiser stood up, defending the ball from Almond. Autumn and Plum backed towards him, forming a little fluffy wall between the toy and Almond. “Baww am babbeh’s nao.”

“Buh… baww am Awmon’ an’ Awion’s. Pwease gif baww back.”

Asher shifted on his hooves. He looked back and forth between Bruiser and Cashew, the only other baby that hadn’t joined the little wall.

“M-mahbeh we gib baww back tu sisseh Awmon’?” Cashew asked, looking shyly at Bruiser. “Babbehs haf bwockies an’ can pway huggie-tag!”

“Nu.” Bruiser said. “Baww am fo’ babbehs nao. If bigges’ sisseh and bwuddah wan’ pway wif stoopi dummeh nu-wawkie fwuffy, dey nu get baww.”

“Dat am meanie wowds! Viowet had wowstest huwties as babbeh. Nu hew fawt dat waggies nu wowk.”

“If sisseh nu was dummeh, den weggies wouwd wowk.”

Almond frowned. These were her siblings, different than Brick and Licorice. The fact that they were being so mean to Violet, just because she was hurt, didn’t make any sense.

“Awmon’?” Arion had trotted over, concerned with how long it had taken to get a ball back from babies.

“Awion, babbehs nu wan gib back baww.”

Arion stared at the babies. There was that feeling again; the maddies in his chestier and the warmies in his head.

“Babbehs. Gif baww back. Awion an’ Awmon’ am pwaying wif Viowet. An’ Wicowice. Babbehs can pway wif bwockies, ow puzzew, ow othah toysies. Buh gif baww back.”

“Nu.” Bruiser said. He got closer to Arion, puffing up his cheeks and staring the much larger fluffy down.

Arion snorted. Bruiser barely came up to his chestier, and Arion was a fully-grown fluffy. He could stomp Bruiser into a pile of fluff and boo-boo juice…

And he wanted to.

“Bwusew, baww am Awion’s. Gif tu Awion.”

“Ow wat?” Bruiser said, stepping closer.

“Awion… mahbeh we jus’ pway wif bwockies?” Almond was getting nervous. There was a lot of tension between Bruiser and Arion was palpable, and she was worried that if Bruiser said or did something stupid, Arion could hurt him very badly.

“Nu. Babbeh said meanie wowds tu sisseh. Nao take baww. Babbeh am meanie. Awion nu wike wen fwuffies am meanies.”

“Bwusuw nu cawe. Yu go pway dummeh game wif dummeh sistuh.” Bruiser smiled. “Ow ewse.”

“Ow eswe wat?” Arion laughed. What could this weak little baby do to him?

Bruiser reared up on his hind legs, and Arion got ready to block or move away from whatever kick the baby was planning.

Instead, however, Bruiser hopped backwards, landing on his rump and falling onto his back. Caught in a moment of shock, Arion stayed in the defensive position he’d taken; one front hoof lifted at the ready.

And then Bruiser began to cry, loudly. Chestnut, who up until now had been peacefully sleeping, woke to the sound of her pained child.

“Wah? Babbeh!” She said, shakily getting to her feet as fast as she could. It was harder now, than it had been. Everything was harder now. “Bwusuw! Wat am wong? Why babbeh make sad-wawa?”

“Meanie bwuddah Awion gib wowstest pushies tu babbeh!”

“Wha? Nu! Babbeh am wyin!” Almond said. Meanwhile, Autumn and Plum took their brother’s side; claiming that Arion had indeed pushed and tried to stomp on Bruiser.

Chestnut, now distraught between believing her children and believing Arion, began to cry herself, cuddling Bruiser to her chest and yelling at Arion and Almond.

“Stahp! Stahp shouties!” She said between her own sobs. Almond, meanwhile, tried to calm her mother down.

Autumn and Plum took the time of confusion to attack Violet, who was also now crying. Licorice was doing her best to calm the foal down, but it wasn’t going so well.

“Stoopi dummeh nu-weggeh sisseh.” Autumn said, kicking Violet in her side. “Dis am youw fawt. If yu wewe nu dummeh den Bwusuw wet yu joiwn hewd!”

“Dat am wight!” Plum said, biting one of Violet’s sensitive ears, earing a loud wail from her sister. “Yu am ugwy stoopi babbeh, an mummah nu wuv yu.”

“Dat not am twue!” Violet said, trying to drag herself away from her sibling. “Mummah aways say dat mummah wuv aww babbehs! Why am yu so meanie!?”

“Mummah jus’ wyin’ tu yu. If mummah weawwy wuv Viowet, den why mummahs huggies nu make weggies nu-dummeh?”

Violet stopped. It was true; Chestnut had given her the bestest most softest huggies ever, but her dummy legs still didn’t work. Daddy had said it was because she had been hurt when she was a chirpy-baby, but huggies fixed everything! Her mummah had said so!

“Mummah… mummah twyin’ buh huwties am tu big!” Violet reasoned.

“Dummeh,” Plum said, stepping on one of Violet’s back legs. “Nao yu teww dat mummah’s huggies nu good enuf?”

Plum pressed hard, leaning into the leg she had pinned. Violet’s hind legs might have been paralyzed by Brick’s stomp, but she could still feel them. The pressure on her leg hurt, and she started to cry.

“Pwease get off weggie! Nu wan’ huwties!”

“Dummeh sisseh, dese am dummeh weggies! Why cawe if Pwum… take weggies?” Plug and Autumn began to giggle, and each one took a leg in their mouth. They started to pull in opposite directions; stretching Violet’s legs unnaturally. As she couldn’t move her hind legs, she couldn’t fight back.

“Nu! Nu take weggies! Pwease wet gu!” Violet said, trying to drag herself away from her sisters. This only made things worse, as soon she felt an uncomfortable pressure at her hips. Violet started to cry louder.

She wasn’t as strong in her hind legs as her siblings, as the lack of use had atrophied the muscles there. Her front legs were much stronger, and she unwittingly was helping her siblings try to rip her legs off as she pulled as hard as she could to get away. Autumn and Plum barely had to pull, focusing their energy on gripping Violet’s legs with their teeth.

With one final, desperate lunge, Violet succeeded in getting Autumn off her leg; the foal falling backwards in the process, but this put all the pressure on her left hind leg. Autumn, irritated at falling, helped Plum pull, gripping the leg above where Plum was holding it, and giving one big tug.

Fluffies are fragile, and fluffy foals especially. Violet was briefly aware of a harsh pressure around her left hip, right before hearing the sickening noise of skin, tendons, and muscles being torn. Her leg came free of her hip and with it, her sisters.

Violet looked down and saw a gaping and bleeding wound where her leg had once been. She screamed.

* * *

“Oh my god, aren’t you just the cutest!” Chelsea said, lifting Rosie into the air and hugging her close to her chest. The beefy pink fluffy adored the attention, and quickly leaned into the hug.

“Yay! Fank yu fow upsies nice wady!” Rosie said, cooing as she enjoyed the warmth of the embrace.

“What about that one?” Tiffany said, pointing at Brick. “Ready to be done with him.”

“Yeah. I think he’ll get to go first. No point in pretending like I’m actually going to let Almond see him.”

Matt lifted Brick up from his little cradle and put him on the workstation. Brick was trembling as he was lifted, his forced smile still on his face.

“Good news buddy!” Tiffany said, grabbing Slate from the pen as well. “You’re finally getting your leggies back!”

“Wat! Weawwy!?” Brick said, excitement evident in his wiggling.

“That’s right; you’ve been such a good and happy fluffy, that it’s almost time for leggies!”

“Yay! How time tiww weggies!?”

“Just a bit longer. You’re going to have to go to sleep for me though, okay?” Tiffany asked. She prepared a syringe of anesthesia from her doc bag, tapping it gently to remove air bubbles.

“Bwick nu can gu sweepies! Tu ‘cited!”

“This’ll help you, shitrat…” Tiffany murmured before plunging the syringe deep into Brick. He yelped a bit, but the drug worked fast; soon he was asleep.

“Didn’t we say we were gonna kill him?” Matt asked, watching as Tiffany also knocked Slate out.

“Sure, but this is fun.”

Meanwhile, Rosie was beginning to cough and wheeze. Chelsea was giving her hugs, but they were getting tighter and tighter.

“P-pwease nice wady… huggies am huwties… wet fwuffy downsies?”

“I could never! You’re just too cute!” Chelsea said, squeezing harder. There was an audible pop as something, Chelsea thought it was the fluffy’s ribs, cracked loudly.

Rosie began to sob and cry, which only served to deplete her already-dwindling oxygen supply further. There was another crack as Chelsea crushed Rosie’s spine, the fluffy’s limbs all going limp at that.

Matt watched with awe as Rosie looked at him, eyes filled with tears, begging him for help.

“P-wea-se… daddeh… hewp…” She croaked out before Chelsea completed her bear-hug. Rosie shat and pissed herself from the pressure, all down Chelsea’s front, but that didn’t seem to bother Chelsea. She just kept squeezing.

Rosie sobbed as her ribs were further crushed, and she wheezed as she was about to lose consciousness.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry poor girl!” Chelsea said, letting go of Rosie and watching with a huge smile as the fluffy fell to the floor. Her legs were limp so she couldn’t break her fall at all, and fell backwards landing right on her head.

There was one final snap as Rosie’s head was smashed into her neck, snapping her spine and crushing her skull. Rosie didn’t move, and a small pool of blood formed from her mouth.

“Jesus Chelsea…” Matt said.

“Fluffies are adorable. They’re so cute and cuddly and sweet!” She smiled. “Even when they’re dying.”

“Riiiight…” Matt turned his attention back to Tiffany. “Tiff, what are you doing?”

She had pillowed Slate, who was still unconscious, and was beginning to stitch his legs to Brick’s body.

“Holy shit. Are you really restoring his legs?”

“What? No. You can’t fix damage like this. Bio-toys or not, fluffies aren’t exactly modular.” Tiffany reopened the skin above each of Brick’s leg joints. She put Slate’s legs inside the now-empty joints, cleaning out the built-up scar tissue in the process, and sewed them back up. A quick spray of anesthetic insta-clot on the wounds helped stem the bleeding and make the newly opened stumps look fully healed.

“Now this’ll be fun.”

Matt waited for Brick to wake up by cleaning up Rosie. She was dead for sure; eyes glazed over and jaw slack. She would have been cute upstairs… but Matt shook that thought from his head. He had too many fluffies. He guessed it was probably a symptom of being alone for so long in his house. It was nice to have company and a real way to get his frustrations out.

Brick slowly woke up. He was still groggy from the anesthesia, and his head lolled as he came to.

“Oh good,” Tiffany said, smiling. “You’re awake.”

“B…bwick haf weggies nao?”

“That’s right! Look!”

Brick looked to his sides, and his wings fluttered with joy when he saw the grey legs on either side of his body.

“Weggies back! Weggies back!” Brick squealed, happily singing to himself.

“Aww that’s so cute!” Chelsea said.

Brick’s joy, however, was short-lived. He wiggled to either side, moved his hip and shoulder joints, and attempted to stand. The legs bounced and twitched as the skin and muscles that were sutured together were tugged at, but didn’t come anywhere close to lifting Brick up.

“Pwease weggies, pwease wawkies! Bwick wan’ gib daddeh huggies!”

“What’s the matter Brick?” Tiffany asked.

“Weggies nu wowk!” Brick said, beginning to cry.

“Your legs grew back though! You were such a good fluffy that they came back!”

“Huu huu! Bwick twy su hawd be bestest fwuffy fow daddeh an’ weggies! Why weggies nu wowk! Pweawe nice wady, hewp Bwick!”

“I’m sorry Brick, but if your leggies grew back but still don’t work, that only means one thing.”

“W-wat dat mean nice wady?”

“You’re a horrible fluffy, and you can’t ever become a good fluffy again.” Tiffany said.

“Nu! Bwick am gud fwuffy! Be bestest fwuffy fo’ daddeh! Pwease! Daddeh! Hewp!”

“I can’t Brick. Sorry, but you’re a bad fluffy now and there’s nothing anyone can do.”

“Nu! Bwick am gud! Nu wan be bad!” Brick was wailing now, tears flowing.

“You know what,” Tiffany said, grabbing one of Brick’s hind legs. “You’re such a bad fluffy, you don’t even deserve these new leggies.”

With a quick jerking motion, she ripped the leg clean off. Because of the new stitches, some of Brick’s skin also came away with the legs, causing fresh, new bleeding.

“NUUUU WEGGIES!” Brick howled; eyes wide with betrayal.

Tiffany threw the leg to the ground and grabbed his second hind leg, gripping firmly. He couldn’t feel her grip on his leg, but he could feel her harshly grabbing the fluff on his back, irritating the itchy and swollen skin.


“Why? They don’t work anyway.” Tiffany said as she ripped off the next one. She made sure that when she threw the legs on the floor that Brick could see them.

He screamed, this time guttural wailing. He’d lost his legs, then gotten them back, only to lose them again. Tiffany smiled as she watched the already-unhinged fluffy start to break down.

Weeks of being forced to be happy and smiling always, kicked and bitten by his “nyu fwiends,” and the horrible skin rashes the fleas had given him and worn thin his weak composition. And now his legs were gone. Again.

“Huu… ch-… chirrrp…” Brick began to chirp. Like a newborn.

“Holy shit, he’s regressed already?” Tiffany said. “Well, these’ll really break him then.”

She grabbed the first of his front legs. He could see these easily, so he would witness the tearing. Tiffany pulled this one slowly; one hand on the back of his head, forcing Brick to watch as his leg was slowly ripped from its socked.

First, the skin stretched. The thin line where the red and grey fluff met was bald and clearly visible now. You could also see the stitches, if you looked hard enough. Stitches, designed to hold flesh together, were obviously stronger than flesh. However, as Tiffany pulled harder, the stitches became more akin to razor wire inside Brick’s skin. She had made the stitching stronger in Slate’s legs, so that when she pulled them out, the stitches would remain in Slate’s legs and shred through Brick.

He watched in horror as the leg slowly ripped away from his shoulder. The stitches shredding his skin into thin frayed strips of bloody flesh. Brick gagged and coughed as he tried to process the physical and emotional pain. Finally, the leg came free, and Tiffany dropped it onto the floor.

“Only one more! And then you’ll be a dummy, stupid, no-leggie fluffy forever.”

Brick could only sob and peep weakly. Words escaped him. His vision was swimming, darkening around the edges as he watched the last leg come away from his body.

Tiffany didn’t take her time, she just ripped it away as quickly as she could. Brick gaped at the wound, his mouth agape and his eyes wide.

“I think you broke him.” Matt said, grinning.

“Not surprising, really. The psychological stress he’s experienced is a lot for a fluffy. They’re not exactly well-known for their ability to cope with trauma.” Tiffany laughed.

She grabbed one of Brick’s ears and twisted it hard. He immediately snapped out of his stupor, wiggling his body and tossing his head about randomly while peeping and chirping. She noticed he’d shut his eyes as well. Full regression.

“Yeah he’s cooked. Totally regressed to a foal-like state. Weird that it happened so fast… though I guess leaving him here with hormonal fluffies who punished him for not smiling for a week certainly helped to unhinge him.”

“Poor guy.” Matt said, gently stroking Brick’s back. “If only you weren’t such an asshole.”

“Wanna put him down?”

“Eh, let’s leave him alive for a bit. He’s broken now so he’s no fun. I’d like to keep going for a bit.”

“Fair enough. Let’s see… we’ve got Slate who’s pillowed, Diamond and her unborn foals, July in the sorry box, and Cobalt. Oh, and the feral and the foals in a can.”

“Let’ put Cobalt and Brick in a cage together.”

Matt lifted Brick up, who immediately started to peep and wiggle. His eyes were shut tightly, and he was clearly distressed. Cobalt pretty much acted the same way in Tiffany’s arms, though the differences in the two fluffies were obvious: Brick, though mentally regressed, was the size a normal fluffy his age should be, minus legs.

Cobalt, on the other hand, was a fucking freak. His body was unnaturally thin and light, his muscles had all but atrophied away, and his legs were basically just skin and bones. There was also the fact that his teeth had all fallen out and his eyes were shut all the time.

They immediately snuggled together for warmth in the cage on the wall, and Tiffany put a light towel over them.

“They’ll keep peeping otherwise. They don’t need consistent feeding, like real foals, but they will react with noise and fear when they hear us… work.”

“Alright. Let’s begin. How about we finish off Slate?”

* * *

Arion wasn’t sure what had happened. First, Chestnut had been yelling at him and Almond for hurting Bruiser, Almond had been crying while screaming at Bruiser for lying, and the sobbing of Cashew and Asher next to them.

He had been mostly unfazed by all the yelling, because he noticed too late that Violet was missing, along with Plum and Autumn.

And then he heard the scream. He turned and saw Violet sobbing hysterically, and an ever-growing pool of blood by her leg.

Or, where her leg had been. The leg in question was laying next to Autumn and Plum, both of which were laughing.

And then it all went red. Arion remembered briefly how fast he was as he charged the two babies, and then pure rage simply took over.

From across the room, Chestnut screamed bloody murder as she watched Plum and Autumn kicked by Arion’s hind hooves. He was a fluffy, so he wasn’t physically strong in any way, but a fluffy that used a treadmill a few times a day was far stronger than two foals.

Plum received the brunt of the kick, and was lucky enough that it landed solidly into her chest, sending her flying backwards into a soft pile of blankets. Some of her ribs still broke, however, and after the initial shock of flying through the air she immediately felt the fiery pain and began to sob.

Autumn wasn’t hit as hard, but she was clocked right in the snout. A few of her teeth were knocked out, and she immediately started to bleed from the mouth and nose.

Both foals began crying hysterically, and rushed to their mother. Chestnut was horrified after watching Arion, who she had loved and trusted, attack her babies.

“Munstah! Munstah Awion! Bad fwuffy!” She screamed, cuddling her children to her.

The look that Arion gave her after that made her fluff go cold. His eyes were dark and sullen, filled with… something. Something awful.

Even Almond shuddered when she saw that look.

Shaking off the rage and hatred at being called a monster, Arion turned his attention back to Violet. She looked bad. Crying hard, but also shivering and twitching. Arion lapped gently at the wound, and she screamed before crying again. She was bleeding, a lot. There was nothing he could do as he watched the foal bleed and cry.

There was, however, someone who could help. Nice Lady Tiffany was here, and could help. Arion laid next to Violet, gently licking her neck and tummy to calm her down.

“Viowet?” He said softly.

“B-bigges’ bwuddah?” She whimpered as she lifted her head to look at him.

“Nu. Nu move. Awion gun gif upsies, otay? Bwing babbeh tu nice wady Tif’nee.”

“Bigges’ bwuddah… am haf wowstest huwties… weggie am gone… wan die...” She cried, turning her head away. “Babbeh am dummeh babbeh… haf two nu wowk dummeh weggies, nao haf nu weggie an’ one dummah weggie… am wowstest babbeh…”

“Nu am wowstest. Am vewy gud babbeh. Pwease wet Awiom hewp?”

There was a pause as she breathed her eyes closing gently.

“Otay. Gif upsies.”

This proved more difficult than he originally thought. His mouth was big enough to encompass her, but he needed to bite down too hard to keep here there. That would only hurt her more, he realized.

There was a small blanket that Licorice was partial to in Almond’s nest. Trotting over, he picked it up in his mouth.

“Wicowice, Awion am bowwow dis, otay? Need fo’ gif Viowet upsies.”

The silent foal nodded, and gave Arion’s leg a little hug. She was watching the chaos unfold as Chestnut alternated between consoling her injured and scared babies, and staring Arion down.

Gently lifting Violet up with his mouth, he was able to place her on the blanket. Grabbing the corners, he swaddled her and was able to actually carry the foal up. Heading to the door, he got on his hind legs and pushed it open with one of his front hooves. It took a bit of effort, but eventually it swung wide enough for him to clear it.

He silently thanked Tiffany’s special friend for leaving it open.

“Otay babbeh…” He said around his clamped teeth. “Haft u go ovah gate. Bumpeh.”

Arion took a quick running start, being mindful of the satchel of baby, and jumped over the gate. Violet made a peep of pain and fear as she bounced a bit, but quickly calmed as Arion shushed her.

He decided to walk, rather than run, to help make Violet’s ride as smooth as possible. He knew Daddy and the nice ladies were downstairs in the scary basement, and had intended to pound on the door until they came up, but again he was lucky! The basement door was also open a crack.

Squeezing a hoof through the door, he opened it enough to squeeze through.

There were stairs leading down, and as he descended into the basement, the smell of blood and the sounds of crying fluffies grew louder. He was afraid; he’d never seen the basement and was more afraid than anything of what was down there.

There was another door at the bottom of the stairs, and this one was also open just a crack. Arion put Violet down here, and peeked one eye through the gap.

There, on a table, was a grey fluffy missing all its legs. It was crying silently as nice lady Tiffany was using a sharp thing to take its fluff off its back.

Arion’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched the fluffy. There was no fluff on its back now, and Tiffany used a smaller sharp thing to slice into the exposed pink skin.

Arion realized he was holding his breath as he watched the skin off the fluffy’s back be lifted up and off. There was blood everywhere, and a bunch of pointy white things were now exposed from the fluffy’s back.

“Bone saw.” Tiffany said. She held out a hand, covered in red blood, and Arion’s stomach fell as he watched his daddy hand her a big scary metal thing with lots of teeth.

It made an awful noise as the teeth began to spin, and Violet whimpered at the scary noise.

“Shh babbeh…” Arion said, intensely watching what they were doing to the fluffy.

Tiffany pressed the saw into the fluffy’s head, spraying blood everywhere as she removed the top of its head. Arion thought that, watching such gore, he would feel sick. Instead he felt… he didn’t know what he felt. He couldn’t look away, and he was afraid, but there was something keeping him there, something… curious.

He wanted to see what would happen.

“You can see how the hormones have affected his brain development,” Tiffany said, prodding at the squishy pink exposed thing. “A smaller frontal lobe, and I bet if we took him apart completely, we’d see an enlarged amygdala.”

She poked directly into one part of the fluffy’s brain, and his eyes went cross, his mouth flopping open as he gagged. He sobbed harder, but his mouth stayed open and his eyes were still pointing in the wrong directions.

“Did you just derp him!?” Matt said, laughing.

His daddy was laughing, Arion realized, at a fluffy’s suffering. There was a fluffy in pain, in agony, and not only was he taking part, but he was… enjoying it. Did that make his daddy a monster?

It did, Arion knew. His daddy was a monster. He liked making fluffies hurt, and was laughing at their pain. But… he had never hurt Arion, even though he could. What did that mean? Was his daddy only sometimes a monster? Maybe only when he was in the basement… if that was the case, then would he help Violet, or kill her and Arion.

There was only one way to find out.

Arion pushed the door open a bit, and pushed his way through. All the humans were still focused on the fluffy on the table. They poked him in the brain and laughed as he did different things: screamed, made bad poopies, bit down so hard that his tongue was cut off, bleeding badly.

Arion swallowed.


* * *


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Draytini: Wow am I fucking sorry for how long this took... Nearly a month! I know it's not that long but... I hope it's good and you enjoy it! I'm trying to build up to where to story will EVENTUALLY go, and hopefully during this Covid-19 nonsense, I can get some more chapters out pretty consistently. Let me know what you guys think!

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Roguesoul: Holy shit...

That was fucking awesome!!
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Draytini: @Roguesoul: Aw thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it!
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tomi: holy. fucking. shit. such a tense read.
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Anonymous1: Woo, been waiting for this. Hope to see more soon

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FluffyCat: Seriously keep it up. You have to be one of the only authors on this site that has consistent and grammatically correct writing to the point you get very immersed instead of fumbling over words and what’s actually happening. Amazing as always.

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NewEraUsher: God damn it Violet needs a break. Kill Chestnut's foals and she will be inconsolable. Not a good situation for Matt.

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Shardy_Einschtirt: This is a fluffybooru masterpiece.
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Anonymous2: YOU RAT BASTARD! You can’t stop it there!! More, more I say!

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Shardy_Einschtirt: Plot twist: Matt is so careless with his fluffies (as he lets Chestnut and Arion raise the foals almost without his supervision) because he wants them to do smth bad for him to have a reason to torture them.

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LORD: The plot thickens
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Draytini: @FluffyCat: I really appreciate that! Especially because I 100% know I make a ton of mistakes ahah
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Draytini: @Shardy_Einschtirt: That means a lot! Wow, thanks so much!

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Shardy_Einschtirt: What were Cobalt's and Brick's colours?
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Draytini: @Shardy_Einschtirt: Cobalt is a blue, and Brick is a red. Going with the "Name a fluffy after their colors because I am lazy" trope.
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Anonymous3: Why do I get the feeling that this is gonna end with either Matt going abuse-crazy and starting to abuse his actual fluffies or Arion, after seeing what Matt is doing, will begin to fear Matt and run away with Violet and Almond?

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JimProfit: Oh, god. Poor Chestnut. Poor, poor Chestnut. Everything's going to go so badly for her, and she deserves something good. I feel so bad for her. Can't wait to see more, even though it's going to be sad.
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Anonymous4: @Anonymous: I hope something like the second one happens. I really don't want Matt to suddenly turn 100% abuser for the sake of pleasing people's abuse boners.
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Sorrowkandy: Love this ride we're on.
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sadbag: What on earth is a chestier?
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Draytini: @sadbag: Yikes. Supposed to be "chestie" like chest. Always proofread folks!
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Anonymous5: hey, i just wanna say good job. im coming back after a couple years absence and your series really kicked things off strong.

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WorstestWandie: the sickly sweet interaction of Arion and Matt contrasted with the healthy abuse is just prefect