Masochistic Fluffy 1

>Your old fluffy died of sticking a fork in a plug socket.
>This still confuses you, since the fork was plastic, but searches online simply say the little blighters will find some way to end their lives, whether you like it or not.
>Despite everyone informing you of this inevitability you head to the fluffy pound to pick up a new one.
>Being the kind soul you are, you specifically ask for one that has come from a bad home.
>You know there are fluffy abusers out there and this might be somewhat of a start for redeeming the human race.
>Or so you rationalise to yourself.
>You ask the keeper if they have any ponies in need of a real change of pace – one that’s been abused pretty badly.
>You figure that’s going to be the one that you can make the most difference for.
>The handler picks up a pink earth fluffy that has a scar over her left, blind eye.
>The handler informs you that she was taken from somebody called “Jolly.”
>She apparently came in with such wounds that they didn’t think she’d pull through, but amazingly she managed to survive.
>Maybe this one will prove to be more robust than your old fluffy.
>”Hewwo mistah! You gon’ be Candy’s new Dadda?”
 >She also has her right hind leg missing, no doubt amputated by her awful owner.
>She’s awfully chipper for something that has experienced such apparent horrors.
>You pay the keeper double for this one, and set about taking her home for her new life in fluffy paradise.
>You get back to your house and show her to your old fluffy’s room.
>At least you didn’t have to go through the rigmarole of setting up a safe room again.
>Through your old fluffy’s natural inquisitiveness (or stupidity) you have eliminated all conceivable threats to a fluffy through trial and error.
>It seems that Candy does not appreciate your efforts and dives straight for your old fluffy’s ball.
>”BAWW!”
>She takes off at her top limping speed of 2mph. It’s adorable.
“Ok, Candy. You have fun. I’m going to make us some dinner now.”
>”Can hab Skettis?” She asks, the concept of food breaking her concentration on the ball.
“Of course.” You say, smiling warmly down at her.
>She goes back to playing with her ball.
>”Yay! Now Candy no haf to eat sharp gwassies!”
>Sharp grass? What on earth was this guy feeding her before?
“What are ‘Sharp grassies’, Candy?”
>”Siwwy new daddy! Not gwassies, gwassies! Wike fwom windoze!” She points up at the skylight in the ceiling.
>Good god. That guy was a monster.
>Well she’s in a better place now.
>You head off to prepare some dinner.
>You’re pouring some marinara sauce when you feel a tugging on your trouser leg.
>”Candy bowed. Wan’ pway game!”
>Poor thing, she deserves some attention.
>You pick her up and nuzzle her snout with your nose. This elicits a giggle from her.
“What do you want to play?”
>”BAD HUGGIES!” She squeals.
“Bad... Huggies...?”
>”Yesh. When Daddy gets angwy and make booboo juice from Candy!”
>The FUCK?
“No, Candy. We don’t have to play that game anymore. You’re safe here.”
>Oh no, she doesn’t like this. Not one bit.
>She puffs her cheeks out and starts wailing, “CANDY WAN BOOBOO JUICE. CANDY WAN PWAY GAME! GET SOWWY STICK! I POOP ON YOU!”
>Well you did ask for the most damaged fluffy at the pound. You just didn’t anticipate she would be damaged mentally.
“Daddy doesn’t play that game. Only bad fluffies play that game.”
>At that denial she makes good on her threat.
>She tenses up in your hands, and you can feel she’s about to let loose a torrent of shit on your nice shoes.
>You manage to get to the bin in time and she defecates into it.
>”Now Candy bad fwuffy! Get sowwy stick now pwease!”
>For a bad fluffy she’s polite.
“No. You are a bad fluffy but you don’t get the sorry stick.”
>”CANDY WAN OUCHIES!”
>You’re torn. On the one hand if you don’t give her punishment she’ll keep on being bad, which is in itself deserving of a punishment.
>On the other hand if you give her punishment you’re playing right into her hands. Hooves. And that reinforces whatever bad programming her last owner left her with.
>Oh no, she’s trying to poop again.
>”Candy know how get ouchies.”
>She’s suddenly very calm.
>This is worrying.
>”Candy... mewls!”
>Sure enough she does.
>She makes the pathetic noise over and over again.
>It’s like nails on a blackboard to you.
>You just can’t take it anymore and drop her to shut her up.
>”YAY!” She cries out as she falls.
>Right onto her stump.
>She cries out in pain, and tears threaten to fall from her eyes.
>But then she stops and smiles at you.
>”Fank ‘oo daddy!”
>She limps off to her safe room, apparently satiated.
“The fuck just happened?”