The Fucking Story, Already.

>Be fluffy mare.
>Be feral, but you were born a feral, and you will die a feral, distant from human influence...
>Actually, you're in an inconvenient piece of real estate surrounded on three sides by highway overpasses, and on the fourth side by a wide river, people pass within a hundred feet of you thousands of times per day, but nobody ever stops, gets out of their car, climbs down an embankment and directly interferes in your life.
>But from your perspective, you live in a safe place surrounded by danger.
>You awaken early, inside the small glen where the fluffy ponies bed down for the night.
>As the sun rises, you carefully pick your way out of the fluff pile, only disturbing a few of the younger colts who sleep at the edge.
"Fwuffy wuv bwight time!"
>You do.
>There is something that has always attracted you to the time when the sun is just peeking over the horizon.
>It's light shimmering off the river from which you carefully drink.
>The water is good, and sates your thirst easily.
"Fwuffy wike wawa. Wawa gud foh fwuffy."
>That's a phrase your domesticated cousins would never utter. Though you were born beside the river, and have long known the secret of drinking from it's pulling grasp.
>Many fluffies before you have died by trusting the water too much, but you know, as long as it behaves as good water should, you are safe.
>You stare at the Fluffy on the other side of the water.
>Pink, a unicorn, with a yellow and red striped mane.
>Just like you!
>As is your morning tradition, you offer your hoof to the fluffy in the water.
"Wawa fwiend wan pway?"
>As you stretch your hoof out to her, she vanishes.
"Wawa Fwiend Go 'way." You sigh.
>She never stays and plays.
>Perhaps it is for the best.
>You turn and amble back towards the fluff pile, where just now everyone else is awakening.
>A Colt, a unicorn with golden mane and fluff, and eyes of gold, trots up to you.
>He is younger than you, not a foal anymore, but still your junior by several weeks.
>"Fwuffy wan pway? Pway ge' foodies!"
"Yay! Fwuffy Wuv dat game!"
>Together the two of you head off at a run back towards the thicket from which most food is found.
>"Fwuffy smeww pwetty." Your playmate tells you, rubbing his flank against yours.
>Do you want to let him give you special hugs?
>No. He will have to prove himself first.
>The leaves that grow low to the ground here are good to eat, but not as good as the fruits that sometimes grow in the cruel bush.
"Fwuffy wan nummies fwum munstah."
>You indicate the black, juicy fruits that dangle in clusters off the thorny vines.
>Only brave fluffies dare to try and steal them, because the spikes can rend flesh and catch fluff.
>There are still some patches of fluff left from unfortunate fluffies who sought the treasures of the nummies, but never escaped.
>When the wind blows, you can still smell them.
>The colt stares at the bush, a dismembered wing twists in the breeze from a passing truck.
>"Fwuffy geh Nummies."
>You sit back on your haunches.
>If your suitor delivers, you'll gladly give him the good feelings he so desperately craves.
>Perhaps it will feel good for you too.
>Though, few things feel better than good foods inside your stomach.
>The golden unicorn approaches the bush with caution.
>"Fwuffy wan nummies meanie munsta, an Fwuffy ge' nummies!"
>He squats low to the ground, and inches forward, his face almost scraping along.
>it isn't long before he encounters his first thorn.
>"Owwies! Munstah huwt fwuffy!"
>He forgets about stealth, and falls back on his young haunches, staring at his hoof, where a single sharpened splinter of wood, honed to a lethal point by untold millenniums of evolution, has penetrated his delicate hoof.
>"Munsta... Muns..." his cries fade.
>He looks back at you, and smiles.
>"Fwuffy geh nummies."
>He winces as he puts weight on his injured hoof, but he presses forwards. Carefully picking his way in between dangling vines and spreading tendrils.
>You are impressed.
>Maybe you'll actually get some of the nummies?
>The colt, after a seeming eternity to your attention span, has reached one of the clusters of fruit hanging low to the ground.
>Sadly, it's slightly too high for him to reach from his crouching position.
>He raises his head carefully, and gets a face full of thorns for his troubles.
>"Owwies... Fwuffy nows ouchies! Meanie munsta nuu huwt Fwuffy! Fwuffy wan nummies!"
>Or maybe you won't get nummies, other foodies are fine, too.
---
>Be Golden-fluffed colt.
>Pain is clouding your ability to think.
>Not that you were a smarty friend before, but now it's consuming you.
>The needle-like spikes which line this monster have long been known to fluffies.
>Your mother made a point of telling you not to get the nummies from this monster.
>One of your forehooves is, in itself, a testament to pain, as every step you take just causes further agony to shoot up your leg.
>But your prize is within reach, and once you have it, it will all be worth it.
>You've desired the pink unicorn mare since, the dark time.
>She didn't know it, but your nose was in the fluff pile near her tail, and all you smelled all dark-time was her intoxicating aroma.
>You wanted her.
>But making special hugs in the fluff pile gets you bucked out for being a bad fluffy.
>So now, you are alone with her.
>Her, and this monster with nummies.
>Each time you reach up for the nummies, your eyes and nose are scratched horribly by the monster.
>Between the pinching in your hoof, and the stabbing at your face, you start to cry.
>blinded by your own tears, and with your eyes closed, you make one last push upwards.
>The monster still scratches at you, but now his attacks are lessened, somehow.
>Perhaps you have overcome him?
>Your tongue tastes the sweet nectar of nummies never sampled before.
>Your teeth close down, and with all of your fifteen pounds of weight, you pull.
---
>Be Mare
"Fwuffy geh Nummies! Gib tuu fwuffy!"
>Your hero!
>The colt brings his mouthful of black fruits to you.
>You devour them hungrily.
>So sweet!
>So delicious!
>"Fwuffy smeww pwetty..."
>So... very delicious.
"Fwuffy smeww gud."
>You lean your flank into his.
>He climbs atop you, and you feel funny in your pee-pee place.
>"Feew..." Enf! "Guud" he grunts, as his pee-pee place penetrates yours.
"Feww guud." you agree.
>He is not a skilled lover, truly, among fluffy kind there may not be such a thing, but his enthusiasm compensates.
>"Enf! Enf! Enf!"
>With a mighty final thrust, he reaches the peak of his good feels, and drops off your back, panting to his side.
>It was allright.
>Slightly annoying actually.
>Doesn't matter.
>Got nummies.

THERE. THERE'S A FUCKING STORY.