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Stories from the Life of a reasonable Hugboxer, or How I learned to stop worrying and hate bad
Fluffies

Part 34

You are a little filly, and you‘re waking up from a terrible dream right now.

You‘ve dreamt that a bad colt gave you bad special huggies and hurt your special place really bad. Then the scary mister everyone is afraid off took you with him and…

Wait, where are you?! Where is your mummah?! Any why does your special place hurt?!

You curl yourself into a ball and cry as hard as you can.

Some time passes, and suddenly the scary mister looks down on you. You can only make scardy chirps.

„Worry not, little one. I will make the pain go away.“

The scary mister picks you up and you feel something cold on your special place. It scares you, but...the hurties get less and less bad…

Did the scary mister do that?

„*chirp* Huuuuu...“

„Come, I want to show you something.“

The scary mister picks up the sorry box you‘re in and carries you out of the house. It‘s so bright outside, it hurt your eyes a little. But everything is so beautiful, you don‘t care. There is so much green, and when you look up, everything has almost the same color as your fluff!

The scary mister enters a little house with you, and it‘s full of fluffies as well. But it‘s...different. It‘s bright and warm, and there are boxes full of mummahs and their babbehs.

„This is the place where good babies go.“

„Huh? Gud babbehs gu hewe?“

„Indeed.“

He takes you out of the small box and puts you into one of the big boxes.

It smells...nice. There are...things...in here. You think they‘re called toys. Other babbehs play with them and seem to love it. One of them, a little white filly with wingies notices you and comes running.

„Hewwo! Nyu fwiend?“ she asks you.

„Y-Yesh! Babbeh wan be fwiends wif ou!“

The little filly gives you a hug and wants to play „ball“ with you, you‘re not quite sure what she means.

„I‘m sorry, but you‘re not ready for the ball yet.“ the scary mister says and puts you in front of some strange things.

„Here, why don‘t you try to stack those?“

You don‘t know what you‘re looking at, but you feel like you love these things. Just picking one of them up gives you a rush of joy that only compares to getting huggies from your mummah.

Mummah…

„Huuu...wan mummah...“

„Don‘t worry, you‘ll see her again soon, and all your friends too.

Say, you must be hungry after all that time, right?“

Now that he mentions it, you didn‘t have any milkies this bright time yet.

„Yesh, babbeh hab tummeh owwies...“

„Here, try this.“

The scary mister picks you up and puts you on the milkie place of really big mare that you don‘t know. Normally babbehs that drink milk from mummahs that aren‘t their own get hurties, but this one smiles friendly.

„Das wight, babbeh. Dwink wots of miwkies tu gwow big and stwong.“

The mare has such a gentle voice, and her milk tastes sooooooooo good…

You suckle like you‘re in trance and let out happy chirps when you‘re full, even though you haven‘t been a chirpy babbeh in many forevers. The scary mister tells something to not-your-mummah, but you‘re too busy drinking her delicious milkies to listen.

„Isn‘t this nice?“ the scary mistah asks you after you finished.

„Yesh, is weawwy nice.“ you say and yawn. You‘re so full, you feel like you‘re going to fall asleep any moment.

The scary mister picks you up and puts you on a babbeh fluffpile. It‘s so warm and soft, you fall asleep almost immediately.

Some time passes and you wake up well rested and refreshed. You also have to make peepees and poopies, but you can‘t see place to make them! You‘re scared now, you don‘t want the monsters to yell at you again!

„Huuu, hab tu make poopies an peepees...“

„Nu wowwy babbeh, mummah hewp ou.“ the big mare says and picks you up. She carries you for a moment and puts you into a box full of stuff that feels funny on your hoovies.

„Dere babbeh, dis am pwace fow gud peepees an poopies.“

You look at her in confusion and want to reassure yourself, but you can‘t hold it anymore. Once you‘re done, you‘re scared that you made bad poopies and pee pees, but the big mare just smiles at you.

„Vewy good, babbeh. Dis am wight pwace fow good pee pees an poopies!“

You don‘t know what to say. You made good poopies and pee pees and there are no scary, smelly holes you could fall in?

It‘s bright, it‘s warm, everyone‘s nice and you can‘t see any monsters here. What is this wonderful place?

You‘re still trying to comprehend what‘s happening around you when another foal, that‘s much bigger than you, sniffs you.

„Wah babbeh am doin?“ you ask the colt.

„Babbeh knu dat smeww, but nu knu whewe fwom.“

Suddenly the scary mister enters the room and hovers above you again.

„Well, how are you feeling, little one?“

„Babbeh wub dis pwace! B-Buh stiww wan mummah...“

„Don‘t worry, I‘ve promised you that you‘ll see her again soon. You just need to stay a little longer here until your hurties have gone away, okay?“

„Otay scawy mistah.“

You really miss your mummah, but this place...it makes your little heart hurt less.

You‘re having the time of your life here. Lots of toys, soft nesties, lots of nice foals to hug and play with and a big mummah that loves you like you‘re her own babbeh and gives the bestest milkies you ever tasted. This is paradise…

And that weird colt is sniffing you again.

„Babbeh knu ou, but fwom whewe?“

What a strange babbeh, but aside from that he‘s really nice, so you let it slip.

Time passes and after a long day of stacking blockies, drinking milkies and snuggling with the other foals and not-your-mummah, you‘re having the best sleep you ever had.

A new bright time has come, you had your fill of delicious milkies and the scary mister has come again.

„How do you feel?“ he asks you.

„Babbeh feew fine! Fank ou fow make huwties gu way and bwing babbeh tu nice pwace, scawy mistah.“

He smiles. Not in the usual way that makes you wanna make scaredy poopies, but...nice.

He picks you up and takes you outside. You don‘t want to leave the nice place, but you hope you‘ll see your mummah again now.

„Scawy mistah bwing babbeh tu mummah nao?“

„In a moment, I just want to tell you something first.“

„Otay.“

„Did you like it there? The place where I put you after you woke up?“

„Yesh! Am bestest pwace eva!“

„Whenever I take a foal from their mother, I bring it there. They live there until they‘re big and strong and get a human mommy or daddy.“

You look at him in awe. And you get heart hurties.

„Ou sai dis am pwace whewe gud babbehs gu...dat mean babbeh am bad babbeh?“

„Of course not. But your „mummah“ needs you, otherwise she‘d have „worstest heart hurties“ because she‘s no longer a „mummah“. Do you understand?“

You need a moment to think. You‘re your mummahs lastest babbeh, all the others went to this beautiful place. And if you went here as well, she‘d have no babbehs left. And that‘d give her the same heart hurties you have when you‘re not with her. And that‘d be terrible.

„Babbeh undastand. Stay in bad pwace su mummah nu hab heawt hurties.“

He smiles again and pets you head. You love this feeling.

„You see, I‘m not a bad man. What you call „the bad place“ is a test.“

„Wha am test?“

„That means all the fluffies there have to prove they‘re good fluffies. When they are, they come here. When they‘re not, they stay in the „bad place“.“

„Suuuuu...if fwuffies am gud fwuffies, dey come tu gud pwace?“

„Yes.“

„An when fwuffies am bad fwuffies...dey stay in bad pwace wif aww da munstahs?“

„Exactly.“

„Buh...buh babbeh an mummah nu am bad fwuffies. And fwiends nu am bad eifa!“

He pets you some more.

„Only a few fluffies can come to the „good place“ at a time. Every good fluffy will get its turn, and only the good ones. Do you understand that?“

„Yesh...babbeh undstand...babbeh fink.“

„Good. I also have a new name for you.“

„*gasp* Babbeh gets namesie?!“

„Yes, your new name is „Prophet““.

„Pwofet wub new namesie!“

„Of course you do. Come, it‘s time you see your „mummah“ again.“

„Yay, mummah!“

The scary mister takes you back to the bad place. But you‘re less scared of it now, now that you know that you‘ll return to the good place and a get a human mummah or daddeh when you‘re a good fluffy.

You can see your mummah from afar.

„Mummah!“ you scream as loud as you can.

„BABBEH?!“ your mummah screams back and comes running. She makes the upsies pose and says „PWEASE, GIB BABBEH!“ while crying. The scary mister holds you in front of her, so she can give you a big hug. She‘s just sobbing now.

A lot of other fluffies start to gather around your mummah, they look surprised to see you.

„Look at her! A monster fluffy gave her bad „special huggies“, and she didn‘t take „forever sleepies“! Because I made the hurties go away!

You hear fluffies gasping all around you.

„Go ahead, Prophet. Tell your mummah what you‘ve seen.“ the scary mister says.

„Pwofet hab been in bestest pwace eva! Wots of babbehs and toysies an miwkies an big mummah dat gib bestes miwkies eba tu aww babbehs! Suuu mush miwkies, wots of babbehs can dwink and dewes awways mowe!“

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

You are Mike, and so far everything goes as planned.

Your little „Prophet“ tells them about the „paradise“ that is the shed where your Übermummahs raise the decent looking foals you sell to pet shops. It‘s a dump compared to the average hugboxer saferoom, but compared to the barn it must be heaven on earth.

„Prophet, why don‘t you tell your „mummah“ about that colt you met?“

„Otay! Dewe am weiwd cowt in gud pwace. Awways sniff Pwofet an sai dat knu Pwofet.“

„Would you describe him for us, please?“

„It am howny fwuffy, hab same fwuff as mummah.“

Her mothers eyes shoot open. Exellent. You didn‘t know one of her siblings was in the pen when you put her in, but his raised sense of smell gave it away quickly.

„That was your brother, Prophet.“

She gasps.

„Pwofet hab bwudda?!“

„Yes, you do. You have many siblings, and they all are in the good place to grow big and strong or have loving human mummahs and daddies now.“

You speak up and address all the fluffies around you. Prophet‘s mother cries even harder now.

„All the foals I take from here go to a place that is pure happiness! The ones I don‘t take are meant to stay with their parents so they aren‘t all alone!“

A brown earthy mare approaches you, she seems terrifed to just look into your general direction.

„Am...am dat da same pwace ze otha mistah took mummahs babbehs?“

„It sure is. Come, ask Prophet all about it!“

The mare goes and talks to your little „Prophet“, and both her and all fluffies around her are glued to her snout. She talks about hugs, milk, toys, warm nests, big mummahs and the complete abscence of pain and monsters. They soak up every single word. Excellent.

Once they seem entangled, you address them again.

„Good fluffies get to leave this place and find a good home and a loving owner, bad fluffies will stay here forever. And really bad fluffies end like this!“ you say while pointing at the miserable, wheezing mess that is a crucified fluffy colt. His fluff is stained with tears and dried blood, but otherwise he‘s relatively clean. At this point you‘re not sure if you should take care of the inevitable sores to prolong his miserable existence or let things go their way for a better effect. Eh, maybe half and half.

„Good fluffies follow the rules. Good fluffies don‘t cry when their babies go to the good place. Good fluffies make special huggies with the fluffies I tell them to without crying or talking back. And when they‘ve been good fluffies long enough, they go to the good place. And you all know what happens to bad fluffies.

Now, who wants to be a good fluffy?!“

The crowd of fluffies that has feared you for generations is now cheering like you‘re their messiah. Gullible abominations.

This should make handling them a lot easier, and you don‘t really have to change anything. The ones that fuck up keep getting torn apart by Brutus, who gets the order to leave Prophet alone, and the ones that last long enough to grow barren or get sick will cheer while you dispose of them. Mothers will cry with happiness when you take their litters away, no matter if they end up in the shed or the grinder.

Why didn‘t you think sooner of starting your own fluffy cult?
Uploader Hugboxing_Faggot,
Tags neutralbox
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Comments

- Reply
Anonymous1: dummeh fluffy, I am your god, you venerate me and obey my 10 commandments, I am the "doctok"
- Reply
Anonymous2: fucking brilliant!
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CockSmasher: I love this direction you're taking.

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jujuteux: oh my twice in the same day?! i'm spoiled

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Hugboxing_Faggot: Ah fuck, I messed up.

Oh course bad fluffies get torn apart by Julius, the sadistic cannibal guard, and not the gentle giant that used to train foals.
- Reply
CwinicawDepwession: Good shit my dood, I'm glad I caught up on this in time for you to return
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Anonymous3: Is it my birthday two stories in same day? no that can be it can it?
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NottooFluf2: Man, Dave really helped Mike when he saved that fluffy. That means that hugboxeries can be useful if you know how to exploit it. Great 2 chapters in 1 day.

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babbehteef: Finally caught up with this series, and I must say that this is really good!!! Can't wait for the next chapter!
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Anonymous4: I like the direction this story is going
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Abuser_McCuckold: Interestiiiing~
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Abuser_McCuckold: Oh and my Cat sneezed so that makes my day even better

- Reply
MONEJO: Oh my! This story got a really good view
- Reply
Anonymous5: Niceeee

- Reply
Toch666: Nice!