Fluffy Mind Games

The next day I woke up to sounds of the fluffy family crying from their safe room. I got out of bed with reluctance and trudged downstairs, kicking the door open. Liffle had been stood by the door banging and went flying across the room, hitting the wall on the opposite side. She squealed loudly and fell to the floor, spraying shit everywhere. Whoops.

“Nuuu. Nu smeww pweety, got huwties!” she cried, as she slowly stood up and waddled off.

Rivet, who had been sleeping in the corner with the babies woke up and trotted over, already cleaning up the mess without question. That fluffy was an idiot, but it saved me so many jobs. His babies landed on the floor with a start and started whining.

“Daddeh, cowd! Gif wuv, wan hugsies! Mummeh, wan nummies!” they cried in unison, when they noticed their mother limping across the room, moaning.

They ran over and hugged her leg, crying. They then looked at me and saw me as the cause of their mothers pain, Licky ran over and did the usual foolish mistake.

“Dumb hoomin huwt mummah! I gif u big owies!” Licky spoke up.

He ran to my foot and bit my little toe. I pulled it away and yanked him off my foot, gripping him tightly in my hands. Before I had a chance to dish out the rulings, Softy followed suit and bit the toe on my other foot. I lashed out and shook her off, sending her flying a short distance. She landed in the litter box with a soft thump. Nothing broken unfortunately.

I rushed over and grabbed her out by an ear, pinching it tightly. She cried out instantly.

“Nu, huu huu huu. No huwties, I sowwy! Mummah hewp, munsta!”

Her brother on the other hand was still fighting and threatening my with owies. I took the pair to the kitchen, their mother running quickly after me, with Rivet in close pursuit. I headed to the kitchen, which caused Rivet to be the next idiot to try and fight.

“Nu gif owies to babbehs! I gif you owies!” he charged towards me, which for a fluffy is a slow waddle. I lashed out and kicked him as he grew closer, sending him flying across the room.

“Nu, Daddah!” the two babies cried.

Rivet stood up and ran back towards me, caring for his children. Time to make a stand. I grabbed Rivet and threw him into the freezer, slamming the lid shut. He instantly started crying fearfully. I decided to leave him to cool off for a good hour this time. That’ll teach the fucking idiot.

“Wet babbehs go nau? No gif owies?” I looked down to see Liffle looking up at me, smiling. I bent down towards her and twisted her ear.

“Nope. Going to give owies.” I said, smirking. I threw the two babies into the sink for safety, and picked up Liffle, putting her on the kitchen counter. She soon forgot all about the trauma that just occurred and smiled widely.

“Skettie time!?” she cheered, dribbling onto her thick fluff.

I grabbed a large clear plastic tub from the worktop and placed it over the top of her, before putting some heavy weights on top.

“Nope, no spaghetti time. I want you to watch this.”

I went to the sink and lifted her babies back out, finding them now soaking wet with their own urine and shit dribbled out of their asses. I turned the tap on and filled the sink with cold water, before turning to see Liffle scared, warbling on about “no huwties, no gif boo-boo's!” I grabbed an old frying pan down and put it on the stove in front of Liffle. I lined it with some cooking oil and then put her babies into it.

“Babies want to play?” I asked. They mediately stopped crying for their mother and cheered on.

“Yay! Pway, wanna pway!”

“Good, have fun. You skate around in this, see!” I nudged Licky and watched as he slid around on the oil, slipping about. The two babies started to giggle and soon slid back and forth on the pan. Liffle looked on and smiled.

“Gud babbehs, hav pways! Tank yu Mistah Daddeh for gif pways and nu huwties!”

I looked at Liffle and smiled falsely. I reached down to the stove and turned on the gas ring beneath the frying pan, setting it to a low heat. The babies continued to skate around, oblivious.

“Oohh dis wawms! I lik wawms!” Softy said. “Tank yu Daddah!”

After a few more minutes, they changed their tone however as the fat began to boil and spit. The two babies stopped skating around and tried desperately to reach the edge of the frying pan.

“Nu, too hot! Mummah! Hewp Babbeh!” Licky cried as he tried to climb out of the edge of the frying pan, only slipping back down the edge and sliding away. Liffle looked on, tears streaming down her face.

“Nu! Wet Babbehs go Mistah Daddeh, please! Dey gud Babbehs!” Liffle pleaded. I

ignored her, and left them for a few more minutes, watching as their matted fluff began to singe. After a few more minutes, I reached in and touched the fat, feeling how red hot it was. I turned the ring off and carried the pan to the sink, making sure Liffle could see. I turned the pan upside down and dropped the babies into the ice cold water in the sink, watching as the water steamed when their red hot bodies and the fat touched the water. The two babies screamed in agony and started thrashing about.

“Nuu, wawa! Nu swim! Mammah, hewp! Hewp babbehs, gif hugsies!”

I chuckled to myself and lifted them out of the water again, sitting them on the kitchen work top in front of their mother, who they couldn't reach. I sat watching them try to hug the plastic box, crying as they went unhugged.

Licky turned to me and said “Gif hugsies? Mak bewwa?”

I shook my head. “Why were you just injured? What did you do wrong?”

They looked at me confused, and then looked at their mother. “”Wan hugsies, wan nummies!”

I gave up. They weren't going to get it, I left too long between the crime and the punishment. Oh well, at least I had some fun and made them fear me. I lifted the box so Liffle could escape and hug her soaking wet babies. I left her to work out how to get down though.

I went to the freezer and lifted the lid to check on Rivet. He looked up at me and puffed his cheeks out.

“Gif Hooman biggest ouchies eva! I gif yu long sweepies!”

Surprising. A fluffy who is no longer phased by long term punishment. He must have heard me injuring his babies. I scooped some water out of the sink and threw it on him, before closing the lid. Maybe a deep freeze would cool him down. I went to check on Runty, while Liffle hugged her babies and gave them their precious food on the kitchen counter.

Okay, I couldn't help myself. She was laying on her back while her babies hugged her fluffy belly, sucking on her teats happily. I pushed her off the counter onto the cold hard floor, watching her land on her belly. The babies cried out loud and crawled out from under her, whining about owies. No broken legs, so all was fine. Liffle left them on the floor and waddled back to the litter box for her good poopies, not wanting a punishment like her babies just had. Good fluffy.

I watched as her two babies trundled after her, either still wanting hugs or needing a shit, who knows, but I wasn't going to wait.

I opened the door to Runty's safe room and found him laying on his own in the corner away from Foody. Good boy. I nudged him awake to see him smile at me.

“Daddeh! Gif huggies?” he asked eagerly.

I shook my head. “Not yet Runty, you've not earnt them. Go show your mummy what you think of her.”

He looked at Foody and nodded, before trotting over to her. He leapt onto her belly and walked up to her face, turning around so his arse was right in front of her mouth. He let one go and shit right into it, causing her to go wide eyed, retching and gagging with disgust. Runty finished up and trotted back over to me, looking up eagerly.

“gif hugsies nau?” he asked.

“Yep, good boy Runty, you made more good poopies!” I scooped him up and gently rubbed his belly and ears.

He was growing strong and big. Far stronger than Licky and Softy had. Maybe Liffle is an idiot and kept the runts, rejecting the healthy one. Or maybe she just has shit milk. I pried open his mouth and looked at his teeth. They were already getting big, strong enough to eat solid food, like my test with the Spaghetti had done. He was somehow growing quicker than the rest.

“Come on Runty, you go get your nummies, then get strong. I have a surprise for you.” I put him down on Foodies stomach, watching him latch onto a teat tightly. I went to Foody's bowl and took some kibble, dropping it into her open mouth. She needs feeding for a bit longer I guess.

I returned to the living room and found Liffle had helped her babies into the litter box to go the toilet and was now cuddling them on the living room floor, licking their wounds.

“See, is gud babbehs, do gud poopies!” she chirped happily, but I just ignored her and kept walking.

I opened a cupboard in the kitchen and pulled out a small electric sander and some nail files. I walked over to the freezer and decided it was time to let Rivet go. Lifting the lid, he was now a lot more subdued.

“Sowwy Mistah Daddeh, I bad fwuffy. Bad Wivet. I nu gif huwties.”

“Good. Now go check on your babies, and teach them to behave.” I lifted him out and put him on the floor, my hands going numb from touching him alone. Hopefully he won't get frost bite.

I returned to Runty's safe room and locked the door behind me. I grabbed Runty and tied him to the same wall as Foody, wanting to keep him still. He began to cry and wail.

“Nu huwties, I gud Babbeh! I wuv oo Daddah!” he protested.

I reassured him he was safe, and wouldn't be getting big owies. I then put a blindfold around his eyes and tied a piece of string around his mouth, forcing it open. I looked in and saw his teeth sticking out nice and cleanly. Good. I plugged in the electric drill and turned it on, causing Runty to flinch. I imagine he would have shit himself if I hadn't forced him to do it already.

Unfortunately Foody hadn't been forced, causing her to explode shit everywhere. I wouldn't bother teaching her a lesson, she was expendable. But her constant whining about her 'bad poopies' did start to get annoying while I was trying to work.

I ignored her and moved the drill into Runty's mouth, sharpening each of his teeth into fine points. He kept on flinching and began to cry, but I carried on. He had to suffer a little bit, to at least make him angrier.

After half an hour of drilling, filing and sanding, I was happy with the results. His teeth were now shaped into fine points, and in such a way that he couldn't bite his tongue. I put the tools away and untied him. He fell to the floor huddling in pain, whimpering. I picked him up and placed him onto Foody's fluffy belly, which calmed him a bit.

“Come on Runty, have some food. You've been very brave.”

He looked up at me, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“why Daddeh gif huwties? Gif hugsies?”

I shook my head. “No hugsies Runty. You need to be brave.”

“I gud Babbeh...I no wike owies! Hate u Daddeh!”

I bent down and picked him up, squeezing his stomach tightly again. He soon remembered and started to apologize.

“Sowwie Daddeh, I gud Babbeh, I gud, no mowe owies!”

I smiled and put him back down, watching as he turned to face one of Foody's teats. He opened his jaw and moaned with pain, before latching onto the nearest one. He closed his mouth and leapt up in fear as the teat came clean off, blood spurting from the wound. Foody screamed loudly and began to weep and cry. I grabbed a rag and stuffed it into her mouth to silence her, watching as Runty sniffed at the blood and began to lap it up.

“Careful Runty, your teeth are sharp now. Try to suck one gently”

He nodded and moved to the second of the four teats and gently wrapped his lips around it, this time managing to suck the milk out without drawing blood. He smiled and nuzzled into the fluff, falling asleep. I went ahead and knocked Foody out cold to stop her whimpering and crying, before shutting the door to the room. The next stage would be the worst, but it needed doing.

two weeks passed since I sharpened Runty's teeth. I let Foody go hungry so her milk would dry up, then hoped Runty would perform as desired. I checked in daily to see he was still lapping up her milk and shitting on her face. What a trooper. Today, he got a surprise. I went in and picked him up, before shutting him inside a plastic tub again. I then took him out into the living room and put him under the coffee table to watch the other fluffies playing.

So I then sat down and made the fluffies play. They kept on passing a ball back and forth, only stopping to run to the litter box, desperate for their poopies, afraid they wouldn't make it. I made sure Runty was watching, growing jealous. I then forced Liffle to give her babies hugs and cuddles, which I knew infuriated Runty as he banged against the side of his box.

“Who wants Spaghetti?” I asked all the fluffies in the room.

“Sketties! Yummy, gif sketties!” they all cheered, happily dancing.

I put the plate down and let them gorge themselves on it, until they were full. Followed by a few more scenarios of near misses with bad poopies, it all went as normal. I returned to the table and got Runty.

I carried him back to his room and let him out, watching as he ran over to Foody and jumped on her. Instead of feeding he ran up to her face and started biting her all over, ravenously chewing her face off, snarling angrily.

“I gif huwties, stoopid fwuffies git skettie. Stoopid fwuffies get hugsies. I wan hugsies!” he snarled, ripping flesh off. Foody soon cried louder and louder, eventually stopping as Runty pulled her tongue out of her mouth, ripping it apart.

It was time.