abuse babbeh! babbeh-die foal-abuse hugbox-ish safe ultrasound


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The Life and Times of Bailey, Chapter 3: The Memory

Why the fuck did I agree to this again?

About two weeks had passed since the insemination, and it was starting to get a bit ridiculous. And expensive, between high protein and vitamin rich kibble, and sketti on Fridays, as well as her atrocious appetite, as the formerly decent sized mare swelled.

And the singing! I don’t know where she heard it or when it started, but the “mummah woves babbehs, babbehs wove mummah” song on repeat was getting old. So, when I suggested giving Bailey an ultrasound it was mostly to try to get her to shut up, I didn’t think she was going to take it seriously!

The mare was laid out on a towel as i set up the machine, I was a medical student so I suppose this could be good practice. The automatic razor was loud and Bailey shook a little.

“Now hold very still Bailey, I don’t want you to hurt the babies,” she stops, and sniffs a little.

“But mummah, Baiwey don wan wose fwuff,” she places her hooves on her large belly.

“You wanted the ultrasound, you do want to see your babies, right?” I ask, sublty, before beginning to shave her belly. The fluff falls away in clumps, as she nods slightly. You know I wonder if anyone has ever thought of making rugs or mattresses outta this stuff it was so soft. I guess if there’s any ugly fluffs I could do that.

“So cowd, mummah?” she shivers as I rub on the gel before moving the wand on. Wand, was that the word, it always felt like a wand.

“Sh, mummah is working Bailey,” I watch the monitor, listening to the bu-bumps of her heart before- there. I look closely, one, two, three, four, five, wait six babies! Good, I’ll be busy as hell but good nonetheless. I inch closer, four earthies as far as I can tell, a pegasus nice… and is that... I frown and turn the monitor, “There are your babies, Bailey.”

She coos, the shaved fluff and cold forgotten as she once again starts singing that infernal song.

A unicorn, goddamn, I was so careful, though, if I remember Bailey’s brother was a unicorn, god that was such a long time ago. It had been a year before...

I had been a farm mouse you could say, and while cities and farms get the same amount of fluffies how we treat them is a little different. Until I moved to the city I had never even seen a live fluffy before, between barn cats, predatory birds, dogs, careless humans, and plain old stupidity most fluffs didn’t make it a week on the farm. They came from the woods and plains, the fields, searching for warmth and food. Unfortunately for both parties the food they sought was stealing from our stores for the cattle. It was kinda funny, when I was little, before the fluffies, some of the farmhands would tie thieving starlings up by their legs for the cats to get them. And most of the time either I or my bleeding heart brother would set them free.

That changed after the technicolor apocalypse, the only ones who would save a tied up fluff is my brother and by that point he’d left home. Besides most didn’t make it long enough to be saved, their legs or tails still hanging from the twine while the rest of them had been dragged off by a cat to eat. I saw plenty of stinking bright colored fur splats, all spread out after being run over by a skid roller or rotting remains half picked apart by cats or crows.

I think my favorite was when they were redoing a barn and I saw the legs of a fluffy in the concrete. Just the legs, the body ripped off by something else, something hungry. Cats walked around the wet concrete, or even across it leaving paw imprints. But fluffies, beings capable of rudimentary speech and such manage to get themselves stuck. Probably spent the whole time crying for “mummah” or “daddeh”, “weggies stuckies” and what not.

Fucking Fluffies.

When I moved out, I was surprised at the amount of live fluffies out here, I mean the city to me always seemed more dangerous than a run-of-the-mill dairy farm. Between cars and wildlife, abusers and sheer stupidity I thought they’d be relatively out of my way aside from bodies.

I was wrong.

It was about a month after moving when I heard squeaking coming from an alley on my way home from work. I thought it was a cat honestly, some poor kit that had lost their mom. I thought I could help the little tyke out, I had been thinking of getting another pet, house felt lonely without a cat there.

Imagine my surprise when I pick up the mewling empty carton of chinese food to find a buttercup colored fluffy. I remember my surprise, and intrigue at the squealing critter, peeping and chirping. Afterward I did some research, the baby maybe a day or two old. It was kinda cute honestly, and I reached in scruffing it and lifting it out, thinking about taking the little one home.

And a torrent of shit ran out of it, nearly hitting my shoes. I remember gagging and instinctually tossing the fluffy away from me. The buttercup fluff flew through the air, before hitting the concrete with a wet silencing thump. I swallowed hard, and blinked feeling..strange and strong. I brushed my fingers on my pants and walked away, feeling oddly satisfied.

It wasn’t too long afterward, nearly home, when I heard the noise again. The chirping, the peeping of fluffy foals. I swallowed and made my way down the sidestreet, following my ears. I could have turned right around, but I kept going before stumbling onto a pile of slightly moving trash. I could hear the fluffies inside it, and moved to grab the bag before hearing the muffled, “shh, babbehs, no cwy, no cwy, mummah pwotect babbehs fwom munstahs shh…”

I remember arching my eyebrows before kneeling, “I know you're in there,” I said softly, enjoying the sudden silence from the mummah. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you, I actually want to take you home and be your new mummah…”

That got her attention and the trash pile shifted revealing a mud colored mare, or perhaps just trash colored. She stunk of rot and refuse, and I could barely keep myself from gagging.

“Reawy? Hoomin wan be new mummah to Junebug and babbehs…” she’s fully out now, brimming with joy. Junebug huh, maybe a freshly abandoned fluff… I always wondered about that.

“Of course!” I say, smiling, “I’ll give a soft bed, and skettis, and I’ll never give you the sorry stick,” I may not have had a fluffy before, but you couldn’t walk two feet on the internet before running into something about fluffies.

“Tank you!! Tank you, mummah, Junebug no wait to go home and,” she jumps up and turns around pulling out chirping babies, “Come on babbehs, come meet new mummah.”

“Wait,” I remember saying sharply, cutting off her chatter, “I can’t take you AND those babies, that’s too many fluffies…” Her face fell to horror,

“Buh, mummah said-” I shake my head, continuing:

“You’ll have to choose, should I take you home OR your babies.” I pursed my lips, drumming my fingers on my leg. I remember the horror on that mare’s face, her confusion and then sadness.

“Pwease mummah, take babbehs way--give babbehs bettew wife…”

I smiled and nodded, hiding my surprise quickly, “Okay show me all of your babies.” She nuzzled the two already out on display, a small blue wingy baby and a unicorn. I scruffed the unicorn, careful to keep him away from me as he surprise shit. I looked him over, “I don’t know Junebug, I don’t think I can have a uni-pointy baby… hmmm, what if I…” I trailed off, glancing to check with Junebug was watching, before grabbing the fluffy by the horn. I bent it backwards, ignoring the screeching foal and mare as she screamed “NU NU GIVE BABBEHS HURTIES” I pushed forward and back again, muttering before finally hearing a SNAP. I looked down, seeing not only that the horn was still attached, but the baby’s neck had snapped, his head hanging loose from his body.

I looked to see the mare sobbing, as I dropped the baby in front of her. “Nu, babbeh nu sweepies, nu sweepies, nu…” she sobbed ad nauseum, not noticing as I grabbed the wingy baby gently. She had shit herself in fear, and was chirping softly, whimpering as I rolled her in my hand like a ball.

“Hey Junebug,” I called in a sing-song voice, smiling as she sniffed and looked up in horror, noticing I was holding her baby. “Can she fly?” I asked, before looking away and tossing the fluff into the air gently.

She arched in the air, as her mother screamed, “NU BABBEH TOO SMAW TO FWY!!” The idiot leaped to her hooves and ran after the baby, “MUMMAH SAFE BABBEH, MUMMAH HEWE!” She raised her hooves as if hugging the air, just catching the baby. Even from away I could tell the foal had died on impact, especially if the silence was anything to go by.

I watched carefully, before loudly grabbing her last foal, getting the mare’s attention. “NU! Nu!” she runs over as I stand, towering over her. “Pweae, gibe back babbeh, nu hurty babbeh...pwease...pwease--” she was sobbing on my shoe, getting blood and shit on my pant leg. I acted instinctually kicking her in the jaw, hearing the CRACK as it broke. She shrieked and ran backwards, sobbing in pain. I could barely make out her garbled speech, “pwe-nu hur babbe, pwe gib tu mu-” I kicked her again, smiling brightly as blood flew out her mouth. She landed on the unicorn baby, back in the trash.

I looked down, ready to crush the foal in my hands, ready to leave the mare with the corpses of her foals with a smile on my face when I felt a rush of guilt. I remember thinking of my brother’s face before I looked down, holding the foal to my chest, she was quiet, just peeping before looking up at me. Her eyes blinked open, big blue eyes all full of wonder.

“Mu-mum-mah,” she broke out, smiling at me, imprinting on me. I looked up to see the mare, she was banging her head against the ground, holding her foal.

“Wa di, wa di, wa di…” she repeated it softly, garbled and quiet as she sobbed. I looked down once more, just as the foal rubbed its head against me. I remember sighing and walking home, leaving the murder scene behind me.

I told Bailey her mother had abandoned her, that I saved her and would always protect her.

She believes me.

Uploader Roguesoul,
Tags abuse babbeh! babbeh-die foal-abuse hugbox-ish ultrasound
Rating safe
Source Unknown
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Hugboxing_Faggot: Man, what a bitch. :/

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IGotIdeas: My kind of woman. Unforunatly I dont think she's too keen on necro-beastality.
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TheFoalFryer: I kinda hope one foal or maybe two develop a taste for fluffy flesh

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Veej: Liking the series. I was hoping this might be one of those Chinese crap ultrasound machines ;) but it all worked out as it should've!
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