author:fluffiesarefood eating-foals eating_fluffies explicit fluffies-as-food foals-as-food


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"Does Sunflower want upsies?"


The yellow and white filly was just a month old and was just about to reach puberty. Sunflower was a good fluff, well behaved as fluffs go, and curious about the world. She had gorgeous fur that would fetch a pretty penny at the market.

I cradled her in my left arm and she seemed to hug me with her front legs. I reached up with my right arm and stroked the scruff of her neck.

"Sshhh shhh shhh...that's a good girl."

As I carried her from the safe room to the kitchen, I wrapped my fingers gently around the back of her head. I twisted her head sharply, feeling the neck snap as I did so. Sunflower's body convulsed, then went limp.

Three foals down, and quietly.

I laid her down next to her sister and brother, both also dead from broken necks, both still warm. Their grief-stricken father was also on the counter, cork in his ass, mouth sealed in a teeth removal appliance (a "dentist"), and legs pinned in a legboard. He looked on the corpses with tears in his eyes.

"Don't worry, Green Grassies," I told the stallion. "You're next."

I started skinning the foals. Green Grassies screamed through the dentist and shook the legboard in a sad attempt to escape, or maybe to charge at me. I couldn't tell. I didn't care. He was going to be a nice plump roast soon.

Oh, you're judging me. I can tell. You live in early 2017 when there's plenty of food and plenty of work, and somehow that wasn't enough, and we were going to Make America Great Again.

I remember being like you. I didn't used to eat shitrat, and whatever produce I could make in the back yard, and bread made from flour and molasses and fluffy tallow. Ten years ago I wasn't squatting in an abandoned house in Queens. I didn't have to pirate off the water system and use whatever meager power the anarchist solar collective could give me. Would you believe I was a lawyer once? I was! I had a JD from NYU and I was a member of the New York Bar. Not anymore. Couldn't keep up the continuing education courses. Cost too much. Can you believe it? Now I make a living driving an Uber, if you can call it a living. It's just enough to pay for simple extravagances like detergent and coffee.

I remember when fluffy ponies were luxury items. $200 for a talking pet! And then they got loose. And one year there were ferals in the cities, and the next year there were herds wandering the suburbs, and the next year there were mega herds destroying the countryside. And I thought, no big deal. Doesn't matter to me. Let the plebs in Kansas worry about it.

Civilization doesn't just self-destruct. It weakens bit by bit, pillar by pillar. Then one day, it becomes too much, and the whole thing crashes.

It hasn't happened to you yet. It will. Oh, believe me, it will.

We ran out of food. Our government got so hung up on dealing with the starving cities and the fluffy-plagued countryside that it couldn't do anything about the crisis in Europe. NATO fell apart. The EU fell apart. One day, Russia invaded the Ukraine. We raised a stink about it but we didn't do anything. Then the Baltic Wars happened. We had American troops there. They were routed in a day. Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia, all gone. Big war in Finland. Germany and France step in. The United States was forced to act.

It took Russia one bomb to end it. Just one. It wiped out electronics from England to the Eastern Seaboard.

After that, the Cease-Fire. And the rebuilding. Ten years of both.

Work and money got scarce for everyone. Food, the way we were used to getting it, from like the supermarket, got scarce for everyone.

And fluffies...fluffies were everywhere.

Do you blame us for eating them?

Of course you do. You have the luxury of plenty.

I finished gutting the last of the foals. Dad was super pissed. I yanked the dentist out of his mouth and all his teeth with it. He started screaming at me.


He kept screaming like that, which was a good indication that he was already pretty distressed. But I wanted to distress him more. See, fluffy meat is like slightly sweet beef. But the more distress you subject the fluffy to before you harvest it, the more sugar gets burned out of the meat, and the more savory the flavor. And the best dish, the pinnacle of fluffy eating, is a savory roast dressed with a stuffing of bread and foal sausage. I made this dish once a week, using fluffies I raised myself or rescued from the streets, and it plus potatoes and beets and apples and bread from the neighbors would feed six of us tonight.

I put in a couple of foam earplugs and put a headset over my ears. Safety first.

I used a blowtorch I scavenged from an MTA repair yard to heat up a pair of pliers. Once they were just glowing orange I knew they'd do the trick.

I gripped Green Grassy's balls with the pliers.

Oh man, did he scream! And the smell of sizzling fluffy ballsack was making me hungry.

Okay, time to finish the job.

I twisted each of his legs just enough to break them, then lifted him out of the legboard by the scruff of his neck. Now he couldn't struggle or fight back. I held him over a metal washtub I kept on the counter.

I inserted the knife just under his belly button and cut sideways.

The screaming reached its highest pitch, and only stayed loud as I continued to cut and pull the fur off of him.

After the skin was gone, I placed it aside with the other hides. Those would make me about ten bucks tomorrow, enough for some eggs and some honey or maple syrup.

I made another cut along his belly, this one just above the asshole, and then a third cut vertically up to just below the ribcage. He kept screaming of course. I couldn't imagine the kind of pain I was inflicting on him.

I reached in and found the esophagus. I yanked it out. Green Grasses started gurgling on his own blood.

I yanked out the rest of the GI tract. The whole lot went into the washtub.

By now he wasn't screaming anymore. His lungs were still trying to draw breath, but he was bleeding out, and would be dead soon. His eyes looked at me accusingly, like I should feel some kind of guilt for trying to stay alive.

I put him down and started butchering the foals. The foal meat had to be bone-free for the sausage.
Uploader Anonymous,
Tags author:fluffiesarefood eating-foals eating_fluffies fluffies-as-food foals-as-food
Rating explicit
Source Unknown
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GreatFieryDongoOfDoom: Delicious story!
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Anonymous1: NumAnon makes a contribution
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Anonymous2: Nice work!
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Anonymous3: I am hungry now.
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Anonymous4: Dindu nuffin
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Anonymous5: @Anonymous: We pretend that people deserve what we get, because it shields us from the horror of knowing that the hammer could come down on us next.
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Anonymous6: Make an account NumAnon. But don't get Wetfluff salty at you. Last thing we need is him harassing you too.
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pillowManiac: really good
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Anonymous7(1): @Anonymous: wetfluff is a faggot to everyone
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Anonymous8: Bout fucking time you made a story instead of num-spamming.
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TheFoalFryer: A delicious tale my friend. Glad someone can do a food fluff story better than me. (Which is everyone because I've run out of motivation)
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Anonymous9: Man, this sounds like a story set in the universe of Escape from New York.
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Anonymous10: Good story although with Tinyhands Toupeesky in power soon this could all be too true in the future, and it won't be shiteats being eaten, but any feral creature.
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Anonymous11: Epic tier Trump butthurt. Go cry in your safe space, libbie.
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Anonymous12: @Anonymous11: so one comment about Trump's retarded ass 'make America great again' line makes this an epic tier Trump butthurt? I think someone is butthurt and it's not the author....

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Wawa_Loca: >killing the foals withaout any kind of torture
what are you, a faggot?
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Anonymous13(3): @TheFoalFryer: aww
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Anonymous14: @Anonymous:

Just fuck off. We're here to enjoy the story, not to argue politics. nu1curr.

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fwufabwuss: @Wawa_Loca: The narrator shows a fluffy his dead children, rips out his teeth, fries his balls with a hot iron, breaks all his legs, skins him alive, disembowels him alive, all so the meat will taste better. That's not enough torture?

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UltraKek: Write more! This is delicious (no pun intended)!

Do more involving the suffering of foals, though.
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Anonymous15: @Anonymous: No.

@Anonymous: Pretty much.

@Anonymous: Did I trigger you?

@UltraKek: That will come, I promise.

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Guzziman: This would be a lot better if it didn't get preachy in the middle. It just assumes that the vast majority of the readers have a real problem with eating fluffies.
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Anonymous16: "His eyes looked at me accusingly, like I should feel some kind of guilt for trying to stay alive."

Probably wanted his neck snapped too, too bad.
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