Lisa's Pony

****DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Simpsons and receive no compensation for my writing. This story is a PARODY based upon one of the best and longest-running animated television series the FOX network has presented. Any likeness to any real-life person is strictly coincidental.****

This story is about Lisa Simpson and includes other members of her family. For years, Lisa has begged to have a pony of her very own. But she lives in Springfield, USA and not out in the country on a ranch or farm. Though Lisa has vowed to be responsible, her parents can't justify the expense of owning livestock, nor the boarding they would need to pay for its shelter, so they devise another way.

Fluffy ponies are strictly fictional, derived from the My Little Pony genre, and speak a type of broken English. There are various websites where you can research and many sites with fictional stories about them. This story was written by me, and will contain various parts; this is Part 1.

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This story is rated for Graphic Content due to some violence and sexual themes.
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LISA'S PONY (Part 1)

Lisa Simpson was excited, and not in an everyday-type of happiness, but rather an over-the-moon extreme. She was FINALLY going to get a pony -- a horse of her very own -- to ride, groom, and feed.

Lisa was ready for some of the requirements necessary to keep this type of livestock. But nothing could have prepared her for this! Expecting a full-sized horse or pony to be delivered in an equestrian trailer, Lisa was instead greeted by the driver of a courier van, who handed her a plastic pet carrier. Quite a bit of shuffling went on as the contents of the box were jostled about. "EEP!" "No smeww pwetty!" and "Why huwt gud fwuffy?" resounded from the now-smelly carrier.

Setting the box down on the front step, Lisa sat down beside it. She peered through the cage-like wire and gasped. "Nyu mummah?" the creature asked Lisa. "No, I'm not anybody's mummah," Lisa replied. "WAAHHH! Fwuffy wan gud mummah ow daddeh. Why huwt Fwuffy?" the creature wailed in despair at Lisa. "You want a mama?" Lisa finally grasped the concept. "YUS!! Fwuffy wub nyu mummah! Pwease wet Fwuffy out ob sowwy bocks?"

'Fluffies. Sorry box. New mummah...' where had Lisa heard these terms before? "Stay here; I'll be right back!" Lisa exclaimed to the caged creature, as if it could have left on its own. Lisa rushed to grab her laptop computer and was back outside in no time. "Whewe nyu mummah go? Fwuffy so wonewy..." It had barely been two minutes and this thing had missed her already? Lisa quickly Googled the nearly foreign terms and was immediately bombarded with information regarding fluffy ponies -- some she needed -- and some she would rather not have known about nor seen. "So that's it!" exclaimed Lisa, scaring the poor creature. "You're my new pony!" "Nyu mummah scawy!" it declared, making scaredy peepees.

In anticipation of Lisa's new pet, Marge and Homer began to acquire some things they would need: A saferoom, formerly used as a utility closet; a fluffy-safe water bottle; food dish; Fluffy Chow kibble; a no-touch self-cleaning litterbox with extra litter and disposal bags; a soft pet bed; and toys: Marge picked out some old blocks that Maggie had chewed the sharp corners and edges from when she was teething, some stuffy toys that Marge had knitted herself, and a red rubber ball with a bell inside, which Snowball had grown tired of. Homer picked out the sorry sticks and sorry box. Anticipating the inevitable accident, Marge installed washable carpeting and kept a few packages of fluffy diapers and wipes, just in case.

As Lisa researched the subject of Fluffy Ponies, the one in the box grew impatient and whined incessantly. "Fwuffy wan out. Haf smewwy poopies in fwuff. Fwuffy peepees nu smeww pwetty. Hu-hu-hu-huuu," it cried. "Pee-eww!" Lisa agreed. "You don't smell pretty at all! You're gonna need a bath before I can bring you inside the house!" "Nuuuu! Nu baff! Wawa am bad fow fwuffies!" "Well, then how am I supposed to get you clean?" Lisa asked. "Mummah awways gif wickie-cweanies to babbeh!" The mere thought turned Lisa's stomach. "You want me to lick off your poopies and peepees?" "Yus! Gud mummah gif wickie-cweanies to gud babbeh." "But you're not a babbeh anymore, are you?" The fluffy had to stop and think for a bit, which was no small task. "Nu am babbeh anymowe fow owd mummah," it smiled at Lisa, "but am babbeh fow nyu mummah!" "Well, even babies -- hoomin babbehs (she translated) take water baths. My baby sister loves her tub baths ." "Nyu mummah haf babbeh sissy?" "Yes; her name is Maggie." "Fwuffy wub nyu babbeh sissy!" Lisa was incredulous. How could this creature -- this ball of fluff with legs and a voice -- feel or express love for someone it had never even met? "I'm sure you will love Maggie. She's an adorable little girl." Lisa smiled.

"Fwuffy tink maybe baff be otay." Lisa was glad to hear that. "I won't put much water in the tub, and I'll make your fluff smell pretty." Lisa brought the pet carrier into the garage, where she retrieved a plastic tub that the other house pets bathed in. Using a special Fluffy shampoo and bubble bath, Lisa bathed the filthy floof, who never cried out, but did tremble quite a bit. Lisa spoke soothing words to the fluffy as she worked the shampoo through its fluff, deftly untangling and loosening the filth and debris from its furry coat. It was while bathing the fluffy that Lisa finally noticed its gender, and quite by accident. Running her hands over every inch of its body brought an unexpected "EEP!" and the preprogrammed phrase "Nu touch speciaw pwace!" Lisa jumped a bit as her fingers slid over the fluffy's vulva and breasts. "So you're a girl." "Yus, nyu mummah. Fwuffy am fiwwy." Lisa poured a pail of warm water to rinse the shampoo from the mare's fluff. It was only after the bath that Lisa could ascertain the mare's color. This fluffy was absolutely beautiful, with purple fluff and a gold-and-white striped mane and tail. "I'm going to call you Violet," declared Lisa. "Viwet wub nyu name!" Lisa then lifted the wet fluffy from the tub and wrapped her in a big, soft towel. It was Maggie's old baby towel, and had a hood. Aptly, the towel was lavender and printed with My Little Pony foals. Now that she was clean, Lisa brought Violet into the house and to her new saferoom.

Violet settled into her new life easily, following the rules better than some of the humans, as far as she could tell. The automated litterbox freaked her out a little though, especially if she squatted longer than anticipated and her poopies didn't come out all at once. The "magical litterbox" sometimes disposed of her waste soon after it was deposited in the pan. "Whewe poopies go?" she often wondered, even thinking she hadn't made them after all. So if her poopies were invisible, Violet reasoned, why did she need to put them in the "wittabocks"? Violet decided to test that theory, with disastrous results. One dark time later, a thunderstorm broke through the quiet of night, awakening Violet with its violent noise. Though her nightlight was on and she could easily see her litterbox, Violet really didn't want to leave her warm, cozy bed. The claps of sudden thunder terrified her so much, she had already made some scaredy peepees in her bed. Rearranging her bedding to cover the wet parts, she decided her poopies wouldn't be seen either, so Violet raised her golden/white tail and made poopies right there in her soft bed. "Goo'bye, magicaw poopies!" she crooned to her excrement. Violet fully expected the "magical" poopies to disappear, just as they had in her litterbox. But the smelly turds instead stayed right where they were and worse yet, began to seep into her bedding. "Nuuu!" Violet cried, "Poopies go in wittabocks, not in fwuffy bed!" She didn't understand what was wrong with these poopies. Why didn't they listen to her? She thought of calling for help, but then Violet remembered the severe punishment for making bad poopies: Three sorry stick lashings to her most sensitive parts, and one larger punishment which would be decided by Homer. Violet wasn't told what the larger punishment would be, but it was even worse than having a sorry stick rain down on her special place. She had to somehow make this right, so with the thought of punishment looming over her, Violet began to relocate the bad poopies with her mouth. "Nu taste pwetty," Violet hu-huued the entire time. And wouldn't you know it, the instant the bad poopies hit the litter pan, they disappeared! The magic wasn't in the poopies; it was in the wittabocks! So now, Violet thought she was free and clear of any punishment. The storm turned into quiet, comforting rain, as Violet fell asleep again.

"Violet!" The fluffy awoke, startled. Standing before her were her young mummah and her mummah's mummah. Tears filled the fluffy's eyes, as well as Lisa's, the latter of whom would deliver the first punishment to Violet. Marge got out one of the sorry sticks that Homer had chosen. On one end was a gritty sandpaper surface. The other end was a pink, adult-sized dildo. Lisa grabbed the dildo handle and Marge ordered Violet to lie on her back. "On the floor!" Marge exclaimed. She wasn't happy to see a trail of bad poopies leading from Violet's bed to the litterbox, nor the mare's muzzle full of shit. "So you thought you could hide the evidence?" Marge accused her. "Spread your legs!" Violet tearfully did as Marge commanded, exposing her young pony pussy. *WHACK!* *WHACK!* *WHACK!* Lisa sent the painful lashes down all at once, amid cries of *CHIRP* *CHEEP* *PEEP* *PEEEEP* *PEEEEEP* *HUUU-HUUUHUUUHUUUUU*" Red welts popped up on the virgin flesh of the young mare. The punishment was severe, but Homer believed it was also a future deterrent from wanting special huggies and the resulting foals. But the larger punishment was yet to come. Marge then called for Homer and Bart, who entered clad only in briefs. Marge quickly grabbed a video camera to record the event to play back for whenever Violet might need a reminder. The purple fluffy was now unable to retain her peepees and involuntarily let them all out. The last thing she recalled was the disgust reflected in Marge's face.....

"Violet!" The fluffy awoke, startled by Lisa's voice. She looked around, but her mummah's mummah wasn't in sight. Stretching her forelegs, Violet realized she wasn't injured. She'd been having a nightmare. The only part of the dream that was real was the urine in her bed. Her blankets were soaked; she had wet them while trying to escape the beating. Lisa was still trying to get through to her. "Violet! Why do you have poopies all over your face?" The fluffy's first inclination was to lie. "Fwuffy twipt in wittabocks an' feww in poopies." Since the litterbox was self-cleaning, Lisa knew that was a lie. Besides, the bad poopies were in Violet's bed and a trail led from there to the litterbox. "Come here, Violet, and let me clean you up." "Otay, mummah. Viwet wub mummah. Be bestest babbeh fow mummah." The purple fluffy timidly approached Lisa, with her head lowered in shame. "What really happened, Violet?" Lisa gently asked. "*Huu*....when Viwet make poopies in da wittabocks, den poopies disappeaw. Dey am magicaw, so fwuffy tink can make magicaw poopies anywhewe!" Lisa was amazed at how messed up a fluffy's thinking could be. "Why are the poopies in your bed, Violet?" "Dat am whewe Viwet *huu-huu* made da poopies an' scawedy peepees." "You know what, Violet? Since this is your first big mistake, I'm going to take care of it myself." Lisa didn't want to be late for school, so she swiftly changed her clothing. She returned to the saferoom and cleaned off Violet's muzzle and fluff with baby wipes as best as she could. Lisa then replaced the soiled bedding with clean blankets and bed covers, and brought the soiled ones to the laundry room. Luckily, the washing machine was empty and her mother was nowhere to be seen. Adding detergent and a bleach-free additive, she dumped the wet, stinky bedding and started the load of laundry. This time, the fluffy would not be punished. Lisa was glad it was she who woke up Violet this morning and not her parents or Bart. She hated to think of what types of "punishment" they might force little Violet to endure.

************ Part 2 to come