beer farm herd livestock milkbag pen questionable snake stomped_to_death wiener_fluffy


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The Herd's Guardian

So you'd been out on a family visit, having gone to a moderately successful farm that your cousin owned. It bred fluffies for food, clothing, and animal products-it even toted this fact, saying that they were all natural, organic, and overall much cheaper to buy than more pricey beef or its ilk. For whatever reason, people bought it...well, your cousin never looked a gift horse in the mouth (pun intended) and had exploited the everliving FUCK out of this.

You're walking around the farm, looking over the Fluffy Pony herd that was grazing and playing about in the open field obliviously to just about anything.

Except for one of them, it seemed-as you felt something run between your legs and nearly make you fall on your face. You're about to turn around and yell at the little pest for nearly making you face plant until you get a good look at him.

For a second you thought it was some kind of sheepdog until it started talking toy ou.

"Am Twiggew! Daddeh say dat Twiggeh am toughest Fwuffy awound!' An et my job tu pwotett hewd, hooman, so BACK OFF!" the elongated Fluffy Pony boasted, puffing out his furry chest as best he could and inflating his cheeks as he did so. He was a bluish black color all over-no mane on this guy. He also had slightly sharper teeth and stumpy, wiry little legs that managed to support his body.

He proceeded to jump around you, his springy little limbs and body coiling up before launching him around as he went ballistic, yapping and crying out "Intwudew! Intwudew!" every now and again.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going-calm your fuzzy tits you walking dildo..." you mumble, walking over to your cousin who ran the Fluffy Acres Farm

"He's a brave little fuck isn't he?" you mumble to him, watching him pick a fight with his tail and try to give it a thrashing, apparently not realizing (or not caring) it was attached to him as he ran around in circles "Or possibly slightly stupid."

"All in breed description-putting some Dachsund or other kinda long bodied dog DNA in 'em makes the long, tubular body shape, with their Napoleon Complexes to boot. It doesn't help that they're ridiculed by their brethren." your cousin explained, giving a shrug as he added "And he ain't that dumb-can take orders, and we trained him without too much difficulty. I'd say he's at most one beer short of a six pack. The livestock...hoo boy, how they breathe is flat out a miracle."

"Why not just use a herding dog? Why put up with...that pompous little rodent?" you ask, staring down at the Wiener Fluffy who had swatted a butterfly out of the sky and was currently squashing it into a pretty little splatter.

"Cuz these guys are cheaper and can understand plain english-not to mention a Fluffy would trust another fluffy looking animal than a Collie or something. Hell, Trigger does everything a farm dog oughta-corral the livestock, kills vermin, makes a good watch animal when he starts howling-but he can understand almost all of what you're saying, whereas even a smart dog can maybe understand 'Herd' or 'Sit'."

"Good point." you admit, watching your cousin walk over and kneel down to Trigger who was currently trying to protect the herd from a bee-he mumbles something to him, Trigger listening intently before giving a nod and running off to the side. WHen your cousin came back over to where you were, he pointed and smiled.

"Watch this."


Trigger snapped his jaws and made weird noises, like some odd mix between a rodent-like squeak and a bark as he gnashed his teeth at the little livestock, many of whom yelped and squealed in fear as they began to back away. Every now and again, Trigger would snap such phrases like 'Muv, dummehs!', beginning to push the physically frailer and more docile Fluffs to their pens. If one of them tried to break off from the group, he cut them off and, placing his head against them, shoved them back to the herd with a growl.

The Wiener Fluffy nipped at the heels of the herd, still pushing them around as best he could to corral the ignorant bio-tools into their pens. Cries of "Why wong smawty su meanie?!' and "Huu-huu, nu gib owwies!" would ring out now and again, though they fell on deaf ears as he continued to force them into the pen.

Once the breeding stock was put into their pens, workers were free to wade in the living pool of fluff and flesh, picking up different fluffies for different purposes-some of the 'milk-bags' were picked up to be milked, while others with extra long fluff were sheared oh so carefully for cheap, comfy apparel and 'humane' fur linings. While these ones would complain about 'Pwetty fwuff aww gone, su cowdie' or 'Huu-huu, miwky pwaces sowesies.' they were the lucky ones. A fluffy who couldn't produce either because of age or another affliction was sent to the chop to become food. Some were boiled to make a meaty broth, others were kept as marbled, fatty meats (unless stripped of the excess blubber to be a healthier cut) whereas others had their flesh ground up for all purpose mince-meat.

Trigger, meanwhile, was trotting around the penned area, ignoring the babbling herd as best he could and keenly listening with his semi-erect ears. A screech pealed from the center of the herd, the remaining stock of adults and foals alike scrambling away from the middle and pawing desperately at the fence in a desperate bid to escape from the danger. Feces had sprayed all over the place, and while the smell made Trigger crinkle his nose in disgust he sounded the alarm-which was more or less him making a high-pitched howling noise-before springing into action and wriggling underneath the fence.

When the workers came out to see what the commotion was, they found Trigger repeatedly drumming his fore-legs against what ooked like a piece of rubber tubing-a grass snake had gotten into the pen earlier, and had been trying to escape after the herd had been pushed back inside. It had taken them about half an hour to notice the snake in the first place, but when they did all hell broke loose.

Repeated screams of "Make munstah gu foweba sweepies!" and, from the smarter Fluffies "Kiww et! Kiwwww et!" simply made Trigger continue to crush and stomp on the poor serpent's head, its bottom half whipping and flailing both from the force and in a desperate bid to escape. The Wiener Fluff was having none of that, as he quickly grabbed the bleeding, twitching and broken body of the snake in his mouth and began to shake it like a rope. The serpent was actually snapping through the air like a cracked whip, though whether that was from the force of it being shaken through the air or its remaining bones being broken was debatable.

Eventually, Trigger dropped the snake, spitting out its head and kicking up some dirt on its body. The herd, while still whimpering and softly crying, had largely calmed down from the huge fiasco and were beginning to mill around closer to where the dead reptile was. The workers would step inside, removing the snake's corpse and hosing off the fluffies who soiled themselves or got soiled upon during the panic.

As for Trigger, he simply sat back and let the workers do their portion of the job, a proud smile on his face as he beamed, turning around with his nose held up high, a smile on his face and his tail up in the air like a flag, gayly trotting over to where his owner and the weird hooman were with metal hooman drinkies.


At some point, you and your cousin had gone inside to get a drink, and by the time you came out with a beer in hand you found Trigger tearing a snake to bloody ribbons. When he was done he pranced over to your cousin with the biggest smile on his face despite being covered in blood like nothing was wrong.

"Twiggeh kiww wong foaw nummeh! Twiggeh du gud?" he piped up, tail wagging as he smiled. Your cousin couldn't help but chuckle, leaning down and gently scratching the little guy behind the ears and eliciting a faint thumping of his tail drumming on the grass.

"Yeah, Trigger did real good~"
Uploader Boogeyman123,
Tags beer farm herd livestock milkbag pen snake stomped_to_death wiener_fluffy
Rating questionable
Source Unknown
Locked No


- Reply
guodzilla: "pick a fight with his own tail"
Man, if that ain't my cat Trekkie-Monster right there...

She's sworn eternal warfare against her own tail and has staged many epic battles against her foe, %99 of the time using my lap as a battleground.
I may be selfish, but I can't stand the sensation of ten razor-sharp little meathooks digging into my thigh...
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Cock_Anon: >inb4 gets any ideas
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Cock_Anon: @Cock_Anon: wtf happened to

- Reply
VenomFluff: Always enjoy your writings. Stories about weiner fluffs is a somewhat untapped subject. Hope you continue this story as there's potential. I've enjoyed all your stories that I've read thus far. Looking forward to future works.
- Reply
Boogeyman123: @guodzilla: That's adorable-and I don't blame you. If it's any consolation I was bitch slapped by a cat when I was little. Not clawed, just bitch-slapped three times, it hissed at me and it kinda just ignored me after that. I wasn't even, just too stunned as I realized I got my ass handed to me by a cat.
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VSV: @Cock_Anon: he's still active but he doesn't write anything lately

- Reply
guodzilla: @Cock_Anon: He's actually posted some new things earlier this week.
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