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continuation and first part of a story from the older post

>being a normal Kyle
>one wife, two daughters, a house and a garden
“DUMMEH HOOMAN DIS AM SMAWTY WAND NAO”
>oh fuck not this again
“WEAVE NOW OW FWUFFY GIF BIGGEST OWWIES”
>i have the shovel in my hand, was working in garden
>my wife is in the beach with my two girls
>I really hate fluffies
>like really really hate them
>I don’t torture or kill them, but god how I hate them
>today I will have a little fun
“so, you and your though friends gonna give me biggest owwies”
>I walk to the hole in the fence
“shit I should have fixed this before”
I put the shovel in front of it
“toughie fwend is stwonwest fluffy, toughie fwend give dummeh hooman sowwy hoofies!”
>the blue pegasus start to walk toward the leader of the shitrats while puffs his cheeks”
>for a second I look at the whole herd, 4 stallions, 6 mares and only two foals, must have been a though winter
>suddenly there is shit all over the grass
>the “toughie fwend” is learning to fly
>and they say that pigs can’t fly
>with a little help of kick airlines they can
>there’s a good amount of shit in the air, but at least none of that hit me
>the blue pegasus land in the yard of my neighbor
“WHAT THE FUCK KYLE!”
“sorry pal, just having some fun here”
“ok, just keep the shitrats in your garden”
>nice guy
>meanwhile all the other pig hamsters try to run away but the whole in the fence is blocked now
>I’m a real idiot if I didn’t notice 10 fucking fluffies crossing my fence…

“Pwease nice mistah, fwuffies just wan nummies, leave smawty and hewd go”
>so now I’m “nice mistah”, one kick ago I was dummeh hoomin”, fucking hypocrite shitrats
“I can’t let you go, you declared war against me little shit, and war is what you and your little pathetic army gonna get”
>he don’t understand a shit of what I said, he’s there just crying with a little mountain of his own shit, god, fluffies are really pathethic
“I suppose I can let you go anyway… if…”
>For one moment the faces of all the little shit rats shine with hope
“herd!”
>I try to not yell, this little are too easy to scare
“I have to give you fowevew sweepies…”
>and they’re shitting themselves again
“because of your smarty!”
>and the torrent of shit stops again
“your smarty is bad fluffy, he wanna give me fowevew sweepies, and I think he’s gonna return with more fluffies to accomplish that”
“whaf is awwompwish?”
“… to give me forever sleepies”
>sometimes I forget how limited this little shits are
“NO, JUST LEAVE SMAWTY GO AND I NEVEW COME BACK!, I PWOMISE!”
>the little shitrat is criying, I love when they cry… and he’s shitting again… fuck
“but if you give this bad fluffie fowevew sweepies, then in the bottom of your hearth you’re good fluffies, and good fluffies can leave my wand unharmed!”
>other red shitrat stand between the smarty and the rest of the herd, the smarty is hiding his head between his hooves
“NO!, DON’T LISTEN TO DUMMEH HOOMIN, HES JUST BAD HOOMIN, HE WANNA HUWT FLUFFIES!”
>wow this little shitrat is the real smarty of the herd… but he’s spoiling my fun

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE KYLE!”
“sorry frank”
“well doesn’t matter this is getting good”
“…wan die…”
>you hear the characteristic crack from frank’s side of the fence, I make two fluffies fly in one day, a new record, my kicks are getting better

“so, what is gonna be, you all die in here or just kill the bad fluffy”
>suddenly a little stampede of pathethic little color weaners are “running” in the direction of the smarty
“GIVE SMAWTY FOWEVE SWEEPIES!”
“DUMMEH SMAWTY PUT BABIES IN DANGER!”
“FWEEDOM!!!!”
>I like the spirit of that one, and now that I think it, he’s the only stallion of the herd now
>from the smarty only remains a little red point in my garden that repeats “huuuuu, huuuu, wan die” time after time after time
>one mare shits on it
“dummeh smawty is not mowe speciaw fwend”
>the foals just chirp
>so this are his babbies
>this little pig hamsters are fun, why did I not start with this before?
>I take the only remaining male of the herd in my hands now
“you’re all good fluffies”
“yaaaay, fwuffy is good fwuffy”
>I put him even more up, like in the lion king movie
“upsies!”
“now I pronounce you, NEW SMAWTY FWEND OF THE HEWD!”
>all the mares cheers, the foals only chirps

“kyle what the fuck are you doing”
>it’s the voice of my wife
>I just turn my head
>she’s back from the beach, I’m just standing in the place without moving
“new mummah?”
“shut up smarty”

Pls stop this cancer

>she’s looking with a strange face”
“stop playing and clean this disaster, the girls are with my sister but they’re gonna arrive in any minute, and for god’s sake just let this fluffies go”
“you can’t let them go, the city hall says that when feral fluffies enter in your property you must put them to sleep or pay an exterminator to do it”
>she rolls her eyes
“well thank you frank”
“hey, you spoiled the fun, this was getting good”
“just… ok im gonna help, we’re just gonna finish this, without blood!, and I’m gonna pretend that this never happened”

>she took a mare by the neck and break it with just one hand
>she’s such a badass
>I love her
>after 5 minutes of screaming, tears and shit (a lot of shit) the foals are the last survivors, I’m gonna break their necks when suddenly
“NO!, STOP!”
“what?”
“they’re just foals, you can’t kill something this little and pretty”
“they’re just mini shitrats, they’re gonna grow up and being little destructive and shitting vermins”
“it’s not their fault that their parents are stupid, we can’t kill them because they were at the wrong place in the wrong time”
“but that’s what we did with every other fluffy in this bag… and the red stain over there”
“just give them to me, I would think of something, and clean the smarty, that red stain is creepy”
>well, when the lady talks the lady talks
>I use the hose and start to lift the remains of the smarty
“wan die”
>o fuck a zombie pig hamster!... oh wait no, he’s still alive
*CRACK*
>not now
>well, 12 fluffies less in the world
>today was a good day
“FLUFFIES!”
>that’s the voice of the girls…
>from the inside of the house…
>Fuck…

>I enter the house
>my older daughter (10) have a yellow foal in her arms
>the little one (8) have a cyan unicorn
“thanks dad, this is the best gift ever!
“talk for yourself, fluffies sucks”
>the little one gives her foal to the older
“you have two pig hamsters now”
>that’s my daughter… no wait there’s two shitrats in the arms of my daughter
“if eli can have two fluffies I want a real pet, a dog!”
>shit this girl is good in taking opportunities
“I’m sure your father is gonna get you a great dog, right kyle?”
>she have a mean look in her face
>this is my punishment for making stupid shit with fluffies instead of fixing the garden
>… I hope the dog eats the foals

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Just stop now please, your story isn't good

Let's see you make one then.

Keep on going, it's good.

Fluffies...

All fluffy killing stories are good.

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Fuck off let him post. We need new fluffy abuse

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>am i the only one that has the urge to scream "biggest poopies" when im taking a big shit?

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Anyone from the Booru here tonight?

me, just lurking arround, don't upload content

i make a story but i think it's not good enough for the booru

what the fuck is happening in this one

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see

it's a continuation, my guess is the dye makes it smell terrible or the color looks terrible

Besides the booru where is the place to find the good abuse stories without all the shitty ones

This is supposed to be part of a comic. This is the second image in.

>A mare had a baby that was deaf.
>She loved it despite its abnormality.
>They get separated in the pet store because it grew
>Other fluffies are afraid of it because of how it speaks
We've all met that one deaf person that talks fucking weird
>Some fluffies choose to hurt or run away from it

There's more to it in the series but I'd rather not spoil it

No you're wrong. Those are two completely different artists.

YOU see this:

awwwwww cute¡¡¡¡

this one remembers me of a girl gardener that trusted in the fluffies and they destroyed all her land, then she set a trap and kill like 100 of them.

That's as retarded as they come.

Didn't realize Shadman was doing these now.

Did you just start a fluffy thread with hugbox? Fuck off.

This thread needs jellenheimer

Just read the booru stories from like a year ago. I haven't read a story on the booru for like 8 months due to the shitwriting.

what's a jellenheimer?

Anyone have the Russian guy in the apocalypse

>posts carnivorous duck
Not like you can talk

>I haven't read a story on the booru for like 8 months due to the shitwriting.

All writing on the Booru is shit by definition including my own.

"Welcome back to Make It To Break It. Today I'm showing you one of my favorite versions of the sorry box. Our supplies include, four square pieces of glass, some waterproof sealant, and a five pound weight." The blonde man stood on a set painted to look like a shed with tools on the walls. Smiling his career making smile, speaking in his Mr.Fix It voice.

Checking your supplies during the slight pause in the video you looked back over your shoulder at the pink mare, drugged and limp in her pen. The stain of a foal she deemed unworthy was smeered into the floor. You thought back to that moment.

Being a bit of a thrifty individual you decided to take a feral fluffy instead of buying one. It'd gone well for awhile, she was pregnant but grateful for your care and aid. When she birthed her litter there was an orange juice yellow foal among the mix, one leg slightly smaller than the rest. You'd explained that the foal wasn't sick or hurt, you could care for it.

The second you turned your back she crushed it. Rather than snap and destroy the creature you quietly took her babies away from her, then forced a sleeping pill down her throat. You had something better in mind.

After putting the box together, you fed the foals, and let the sealant set over night. Coming back down the stairs into the basement you excitedly began to get everything prepared.

"Stoopid poopie daddeh! Whewe babbehs!? You am stoopid poopiest dummiest poopie daddeh!!!! Babbeh was peepees! Had bad weggie!!!" The mare screamed at you as you approached.

"Fuck happened to you? You used to be grateful, nice. Then you gave birth and what, decided everything I did, I did because I'm supposed to?"

"Yes. Dummeh. Dats how tings wowk. You biggest dummeh daddeh eba. Now gib babbehs dummeh! Or fwuffy gib biggest, sowwiest poopies."


>fluffybooru.org/post/view/36569#search=psychological

"I hate you so much." You stepped into the pen and quickly snatched up the creature planting her ass firming in her litter box. She kicked and squirmed trying to bite your hands. You squeezed her sides hard, pressing her inward until she couldn't breathe. Then she shit herself.

She took a sharp breath in as you loosened your grip to shift her, grinding her ass into the litter to clean her up some. She opened her mouth to say something, so to stop that you threw your forehead into her nose.

She began to snort and cry from your headbutt, blood running out her snout. Shifting your grip you forced her into the clear box and slammed the lid on, putting the weight on top, you could see her saying something but all you could hear was the hammering of her hooves on the glass and it was much less annoying than her voice.

Standing up you went over to the shelf near by and checked on the foals. You watched a moment as a small blue foal began to force it's way to the top of the small pile. It's siblings chirped as the blue one kicked and climbed over them to reach the top of the pile. You found a volunteer.

Taking him from the pile you dropped him from a short height onto the cold hard ground. Taking the dropper from the counter next you waved it in front of his nose and began to lure him forward. This close to the box and without her hammering against it you could hear the mare and so could the foal. She called to him, told him to come for his bestest mummah miwkies. You stood back to watch.

As the foal came closer the mare pressed her tits to the glass, only to watch the foal hit the invisible barrier. Her face was priceless, the confusion couldn't be more clear.

"Babbeh? Babbeh get miwkies? Why babbeh no get miwkies? Huwwy babbeh, mummah nu wike sittin wike dis." She finally seemed to realize the glass was in the way. But rather than try to logic it out she simply told the baby to try harder.

She really was a bitch. You'd have to switch up your game. Digging around in near by rooms for a few minutes you finally found what you were looking for. Blowing the dust off you popped open the lid of your old toy chest, reaching inside you found your favorite toy from youth. A mother fucking Street Shark.

Taking it back to the room you found the mare had given up on the foal, she called it a dummeh babbeh and blew a grand raspberry at it. You slowly knelt down and picked up the foal, it was just small enough to fit in the toy's mouth. Getting it locked in place you leaned the set up against the glass as you checked on the other foals.

A tiny purple one who'd caught your eye peeped as you picked her up, you gently held her in your hand as you rubbed her head with your thumb. The soft fuzz felt nice under the digit and you continued to pet her as you fed her. She nuzzled into the warmth of your hand and cooed at being petted and fed. This is why people like foals, you thought as you set her back in the towel lined bowl.

By now the mare had seen her baby's predicament and was clinging loudly with her hooves on the walls of her box. You could faintly hear say your name, begging for your aid. The bitch flipped sides more than the kid who hated to lose at TF3.

"Oh no! Looks like the munsta got your baby!" You feigned surprise as you walked forward.

"Hewp babbeh! Munsta gonna num babbeh!" The mare beat her hooves against the glass.

This was gonna be priceless. Reaching forward you touched the toys claw like hand then reeled back and feigned to be injured. The mare shrieked in terror, it must truly be a monster to be able to hurt you. Coming back you snatched up the toy pretending to be angry now.

Biblical.

"Dats it daddeh! Gib it angwy ouchies!" You pretended to wrestle with the toy while walking over to the desk, making exaggerated grunts and fighting noises. In your commitment to the role the foal ended up slipping out of the toys mouth.

You shot your hand out to try to catch it but instead ended up slapping it out of the air. It hit the ground somewhere to your left with a small crunch.

"Fuck.. Well there goes three dollars."

Oh well. You scanned the room for the body, finding it resting against the concrete and fortunately for it, unconscious. It'd be over quick, no need to cause any excess suffering for the small creature. Picking it up you twisted it's head completely one way, then the other causing an internal decapitation. You put the now dead foal back into the toy's open mouth and threw the whole thing at the glass sorry box.

The plastic toy skipped off the glass and landed not to far away. The mare could see it, it's foal dead in the mouth of a monster. You could hear stupie daddeh every other word which had you roll your eyes. You hadn't been stupid when she was starving to death and pregnant, needing safety and food.

Grabbing a bright green foal from the foal bowl you took the dropper with you. Sitting on the floor a few feet away from the box you began to feed the green foal, holding it in your hand as you did.

It's mother, lost her shit. Both figuratively and literally. She was screaming and pounding on the box, shitting and being a shit. All this noise distressed the foal who began to peep softly. Lifting your hand you shushed the fluffy inside her glass prison with a finger. If she was pissed before. Hooo boy.

"Dummeh stupie ugwy poopie dummeh Daddeh!! Hachu hachu hachu!!!! GON GIB BIGGEST OWWIES WHEN FWUFFY GET OUT OF BOXIE!!!! SCREEEEEEEE!!!" She pounded the glass and fired her backup supply of dookie throwing a tantrum worthy of a medal. No wonder the instructions called for waterproof sealant.

Rising to your feet you walked back to the foal bowl and set the green one inside. Thinking of what to do next. Then you grinned. An evil, nasty, no good grin and rushed upstairs.

>

It'd been a week now. You'd made improvements to the glass box, using a drill you'd made several holes on one side of the box, big enough to get rid of chunks. This would make cleaning much easier if you decided to clean it. Or use it at a future point. Fluffies didn't have a very large lifespan after all.

When your old mare awoke she was back in the box, you sat across from her playing on your phone.

"Why.. Why back in sowwy box.. Am gud fwuffy."

You didn't respond, just pointed to the stain on the floor while you finished watching the latest episode of Will It Disintegrate where in an elderly man played with high powered lasers. You'd heard he was the son of a guy who used to test blenders but that was just a rumor.

"Was bad babbeh.." She muttered looking at the spot you'd pointed at.

"Gotta give ya credit. Ya stick to your guns. Maybe that's why I hate you. You refuse to see another view. Refuse to accept even for a moment you might be wrong." You knelt in front of the box as you spoke, staring the mare in the eyes.

She eventually turned away, unable to answer or simply not willing.

"Fine. Let me show you how happy your babies are. How much they resent you. You killed their sibling, for no reason. It didn't even smell like a bad baby, you said so. The second you saw that leg.." You sighed and rose up walking to the stairs and calling down the family.

"This, is Cookies. She has been raising your babies. She loves them unconditionally. She is a good fluffy." You watched as Cookie helped each baby down the stairs one at a time.

The foals saw their mother sitting in the box, your favored purple foal named Xena stepped up to the box.

"Babbeh?" The nameless mare looked down at the purple foal.

"You am Munsta Mummah. Widdle weggie bwudah ow sissy nu do nutin wong." She spoke with tears in her eyes. Her siblings wouldn't even look at their biological mother. Whether it was that they didn't care or that they were afraid. It didn't matter. The effect was clear.

The mare in the box just stared at the filly in front of her. Her mind was reeling. For you to explain and berate her was one thing. For her foal to do so, this was why you started this. Why you'd spent this money. You covered the smile forming on your face with your hand. Even through the box you could hear the words.

"Wan die.. Am wustest mummah.. Wan die.." You reached forward and scooped up Xena as she just stared at the spot where the filly had once been. Placing the filly with Cookie you sent the family back upstairs in a hurry.

The mare continued to say wan die as you lifted her from the box, and carried her into the locked room at the far end of the basement. Opening the door you stepped inside. The smell of rot, of death, washed over you. Abusing a fluffy was easy, to beat it, to break it. Cut it, burn it, slice it. It's all fairly straightforward. To take a fluffy and force it into the wan die state without there being anything physically wrong with the creature. Now that took practice, and work.

>Finding a spot on the shelf you placed the mare down beside a long dead stallion. >It's eyes had began to rot away, it's jaw hung slack, maggots wriggled inside it's >open mouth. The smell made you wretch, but that was part of the magic. Closing >the door you sat in the chair at the far end of the room, dead, dying, and rotted >fluffies lined the shelves that stretched towards the door. You smiled, surrounded by death.

>"Wan die."

>You began to laugh as the rest of the living fluffies repeated this sentiment.

>"Wan die, wan die, wan die." They said over and over, at random, at different volumes. It was a cacophony of fluffy suffering.

>You continued to laugh. And laugh. And laugh.

>6 months from that day
>i don't know when but the little shitrats started to talk
>oh, and we get a dog, his name is "eduardo master of the atom", but we call him edd
>mina choose his name...
>the horned fluffy started to make demands and screaming to eli
>it's a fucking smarty
>it's been three months of his power fantasies
>i assume that the little shits have names, but i don't care
>my wife have the decency of telling mi daughter that “fluffies problems are not daddy problem”
>one day I was eating some spaghetti that remains from dinner
>are the family watching a movie
“Dummeh hoomin gib tom sketties!, banana need sketties fow tummy babbehs”
>oh right, and the other shit is pregnant, the little Caligula over here fucked his own sister
“no, get away from me”
“Dummeh Hoomin take sowwy poopies”
>the little shit defecates in my pants
>oh god the stink
>I develovep some kind of anti-reflex to not kill this little vermins by reflex
>the fury and the fire of 1000 torture methods gathered in mi mind
>I want to throw the little shit in the oven
>or maybe make him an enffie baby and throw it in the local breeder
>or just beat the shit out of him… well that’s not hard
“Kyle just… go to change, I will get the sorry stick”
>Suddenly Eduardo comes from the yard
>he takes the little shit
>328 psi destroy the little shitrat
>yes, Eduardo is a Rottweiler
>my daughter run trying to catch Eduardo
>she’s not screaming, not crying
>wait, she doesn’t give a fuck at all!
>in his running Eduardo step on the other little shit rat that was screaming “BAWKY MUNSTAH” or “NUUUU, SPECIAW FWEND”

>oh my god there’s blood everywhere
>finally Eduardo gets bored
>he left the little shit rat goes
“… Eduardo bad dog!”
>it’s the only thing that my wife gets to say
>there’s blood and shit everywhere
“honey… are you okay?”
“yeah… I was kind of bored of them anyway”
“what?...”
“they’re only toys, but was a gift from dad and…”
“oh my god, I was buying kible for 6 months for a pet that you don’t wanted”
“they were good at first, but fluffies are kind of assholes… can I get a cat?”
“cats are assholes too”
“yeah, but respectable assholes”
>mi wife look at me, she’s worried that eli it’s with some kind of psychological trauma or something, but i know she doesn’t give a shit
“just go buy a goddamit cat, I gonna clean this”
“YAY!”
>both girls run to the car
>im alone with Eduardo
“You truly are the master of the atom”
>he whimpers not knowing why his toy don’t move anymore

>15 minutes later
>you have other pants
>you cleaned all the shit
>you hear from the garden “DUMEEH HOOMIN!...”
>the usual smarty bla bla bla
>You look at Eduardo
“NUUUU BAWKY MUNSTAH!”
“WUN”
“SMAWTY NU WAN”
“WAN DIE, WAN DIE!”
>You truly are the master of the atom
>I love dogs

After this the master of the atom traveled inter dimensions to bite this faggotin the ass

The end

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The mother's probably dead anyway.

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Kek

(OP)

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Why are you telling them to run when we kill them?

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Keep clicking away, fatty.

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Thanks

They're basically the silent serial killers of the fluffies. They're fluffies I think but they don't talk or do anything, just sorta murder?

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Fat people, fighting things they don't like with many clicks.

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this is my first time in one of these threads and what the fuck

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Says the loser who literally has nothing else better to do than post hundreds of pictures from a folder that took him hours to fill.

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What the fuck is this shit?

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What you're doing is pointless anyway. The thread was mostly dead when you came along. But continue being an obese faggot. Hope those dick-sweat covered Cheetos taste good.

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anythings better than seeing this shit.

What's worse? This, furry threads, trap threads, or dick rate threads?

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Either he stopped, ran out of pictures and is looking for more, or captcha slowed him down.