?What is there to say that isn’t totally obvious by the fact that I’m posting yet another fan fic about Care Bears? No one writes pleasant, nice erotica about the Care Bears. No, if you’re writing about Care Bears fucking, you’re writing about them raping each other, despite the fact that consensual sex is much more in the Care Bears’ caring nature (or so I would think). But no, stories about Care Bears fucking have to be dark and twisted, and this story by Rose Fox is no exception. You can blame Weevil for sending me this one.
One morning Grumpy Bear woke up and found that he did not, in fact, care.
His response to this was to go back to sleep: but then, waking up ten
minutes later, plodding to his bathroom and brushing his teeth, he still
didn’t actually care. (In response to this, he didn’t floss.) It wasn’t
even anything unnerving. He simply could not give half a darn. In fact, there was so much darn he didn’t give that it became a damn, which was another thing entirely, as anybody who has said either darn or damn will know.
He ate cookies in bed and wallowed in the crumbs. Then Grumpy dozed off
fretfully until one o’clock in the afternoon, whereupon he was roused
from his uncomfortable sleep by the screaming bleat of a car horn
outside. He attempted to ignore it. This didn’t work.
“Grumpy!” Honk, honk. Hooooonk. “Grumpy! Get out here, lazybones! You’re going to miss the picnic!”
“You know what,” shouted Grumpy, “you and your stupid picnic can go to hell!” Slam.
Care Bear stare your way to the jump when you’re ready.
I’m going to skip ahead for a bit, because none of needs to read 800 words about Grumpy Bear being grumpy. That’s his thing. You get it. So let’s get to the part where the Care Bears decide how best to deal with Grumpy’s extra grumpiness:
“I’m glad you all found the time to be here today,” said Tender Heart,
at the head of the table. “I hope you understand just how important this
(The assembled Care Bears and Care Bear cousins nodded. The Caring Meter
had been attempting to go past the lowest rung for the past three days,
creating such a horrible constant donging noise that they had to stop
it up with sticky tape.)
Why is this paragraph in parentheses?
“Of course we do!” huffed Brave Heart Lion, crossing his arms. “Grumpy’s gettin’ unbearable!
He’s broken the Caring Meter, y’all can hear it! I went in there
yesterday to have a good long talk with him about caring and show him a
thing or two, but would you believe he said he didn’t want to be a Care
Bear any more? He kept on saying all this stuff about child welfare and parental responsibility, he’s stopped makin’ sense!”
“No, Brave Heart!” Tender Heart said sternly, stopping an immediate wave
of low muttering about Grumpy’s varied wrongdoings. “Don’t you see?
It’s not us we have to be worried about, it’s Grumpy. Not caring
is the worst thing in the whole entire world! Look at what it’s doing to
him. Can’t you see how lonely he is? How frightened he must be? Without
caring, there’s… nothing. There’s less than nothing. We can
complain all we want, but in the end, it’s Grumpy Bear who’s hurting
right now. It’s our responsibility to help him.”
So to be clear: It’s rape < murder < Orangina TV commercials < mass murder < not caring. Good to have that sorted out.
Share Bear’s purple paw waved in the air. “But what can we do, Tender
Heart? We’ve all been trying everything we can for days. Nothing works!”
Tender Heart Bear had only the barest time to look Brave Heart Lion in
the eye before he picked a letter up from the table. “This problem is
beyond me. I decided the first day I needed to ask somebody who might
have seen this before… True Heart Bear. So I wrote to True Heart, and
she sent me a reply.”
“Oh, True Heart will know how to fix him!”
God help me, I had to look up True Heart Bear, because I’d never heard of her. Apparently she’s the mother of all the Care Bears and co-founder of the Kingdom of Caring. She’s like the Earth mother-goddess of Care Bears. This was an incredibly stupid thing to learn, and the fact I learned it from an erotic fan fic depresses me to no end.
“Noble Heart Horse, too!”
“You’re the best, Tender Heart!”
“C’mon, Tender Heart! Open it up!”
They all clustered around him, getting their elbows in each other’s
faces, clambering on top of each other’s shoulders with Swift Heart at
the top of the pile and squashing poor Gentle Heart, Love-a-Lot trying
to peer desperately over the top of Tender Heart’s head as he peeled
open the delicate kitten stationery carefully and read the insides
“Dear Care Bears,
The only thing I can suggest is a brutal monsterfuck.
– True Heart”
I must admit, I enjoy that’s how that’s the only suggestion she has. She ransacked her little Care Bear brain, and the only possible solution it came up with to make Grumpy Bear care again was “a brutal monsterfuck.” Frankly, I blame the Care Bear educational system for not teaching more, less rape-y ways to cure grumpiness. Flash forward past one trip to the sex shop later…
Grumpy Bear awoke, suspended.
His arms and legs were tied up behind up, tied to something,
though he couldn’t see what it was: he was facing down, staring at the
tiled floor of the main hall in Care-a-Lot, uncomfortably spreadeagled,
cold and shocked. There was movement going on around him, and he
groggily thought that maybe he was still dreaming as he tried to crane
his head up to see what was going on.
“Hey? Hey! What – what the heck are you guys doing? Let me outta this thing!”
“Slave Bear speaks,” said a voice.
“Slave Bear is tied to the rape rack,” said another.
Here’s a fun thought: The Care Bears didn’t have to purchase or order a rape rack. They had one already, just hanging out in Care-a-lot castle. You know, in case they needed to rape the bejeezus out of somebody. Maybe that’s what happened to Professor Coldheart.
“What the – Funshine, that’s you! I can hear you! What the hell are you doing? Wish Bear?”
For his pains, Grumpy Bear received a hard whack to the face with what
looked like a long stick: it was pink, with rainbow decals. The sting of
being hit shocked him into silence for long moments, before he began
complaining louder than ever.
“Ow! Ow! Goddamnit!“
“Slave Bear talks out of turn,” said another voice, worryingly familiar. “Gag him.”
“What? No! I – urghahghaghrrg,” managed Grumpy, before an arm that
looked suspiciously like Funshine’s forced a ball gag that reeked of
pink glitter paint was shoved into his mouth. Grumpy Bear felt it being
tied, yelled against it, and for the first time began to feel afraid.
Here’s where I get confused; because if I was grumpy, tied to a rape rack, bound and gagged, and then gang-raped, I think that would just make my mood worse.
“Slave Bear, you are in the rape rack for crimes against caring,” said
the first voice, and Grumpy identified it: Tender Heart. “Slave Bear,
you will only come out of the rape rack when we think that you’ve
started to care again. Until then, you will no longer be Grumpy Bear,
but Slave Bear, and you are the property of every Care Bear or Care Bear
Cousin in this room. You are going to be punished.”
“Mrrf,” said Grumpy.
“Your first punishment is – Love-a-Lot, are you giving him a magazine?“
“It’s just an old Paula Deen cooking magazine. It’s part of the torture.”
Love-a-Lot snatched away the New Yorker she’d been putting helpfully in
front of where Grumpy’s eyeline had been positioned, staring hollow-eyed
at the floor, and gave an anxious titter as she hid it behind her back.
“Safe word is ‘Professor Coldheart’,” she whispered kindly, head close
to Grumpy’s own. “At least, it would be, only you’re in a gag so that’s
totally useless! I’m fifth in line! Count for me!”
He watched her chubby pink legs as she ambled back to the grim circle of Care Bears. Tender Heart cleared his throat.
“I guess there’s only one thing we can say to you now,” he said. “And that’s this: scream like a little bitch, fuckbitch.“
?I’m sorry for not commenting more, but like all great works of it, this story often stands on its own.
Grumpy’s blue-tinted ass jerked like a cheerleader attached to an
electrode as the riding crop came down on him, over and over, shrieking
like a gagged banshee and getting glitter on his tongue as he arched
into the beating. What was worst was the silence: only Tender Heart’s
caught, ragged breath as he brought down the crop, nearly incoherently,
and the weight of the Care Bear Stare all around him. And then it was
What’s broken? The stare? The crop? Grumpy’s ass?
“Gooo~oooo, Tender Heart!” cheered Cheer Bear. “Beat his filthy bear bitch ass! Slap it good and red! Hit him with your fuckcrop!“
“You are so creepy,” said Wish.
Wish Bear should remember the old proverb: those who live in glass houses in which a gang-rape is about to take place should not cast stones. Something like that.
“Woohoo! Spank his slut ass harder! C’mon, bears, say it with me! Your crop is your dick! Fuck him! Fuck! His! Blue! Slave! Bear! Ass!”
“Beat him harder, motherfucker,” cried Gentle Heart Lamb, and that opened the floodgates.
He was red and numb now, more tender with every strike, almost
forgetting to cry out and renew his shocked yells when Share Bear eased
off his gag. He spat out a small sea of cheap craft glitter. “Slave Bear
needs a whore mouth,” said Share Bear, and brandished the lipstick.
Share Bear shares a little too much, methinks.
“Share, I – “
“Slave Bear didn’t get permission to speak,” said Tender Heart,
and before Grumpy could comment, felt his small stub of a tail being
lifted up: he made no sound, eyes huge and round, as he felt something
being slathered on his anus.
And that was the day Tender Heart Bear was renamed Tender Asshole Bear.
“Uh, Tender Heart, that looks like Marshmallow Fluff,” commented Swift
Heart, giving Grumpy Bear another good whop right on the ass as she
“What? Oh, it is Marshmallow Fluff,” said Tender Heart. “What am I going to use, peanut butter?”
“You guys are dead,” said Grumpy. “So. Dead. So – arrrghgrhrghargh!“
“Slave Bear is Care-A-Lot’s fuckslut,” chanted Cheer. “Slave Bear is the Forest of Feelings’ felchtoy.“
Actually, I’m starting to side with Wish Bear. Cheer Bear is all kinds of fucked up.
Grumpy’s eyes rolled back in his head as Share clasped his face sharply,
slapping him once as he whined before outlining his mouth in tacky red.
He opened his mouth to protest: she shoved the lipstick in, made him
bite down until he spat the waxy red substance out, rocking his head
back and forth as Tender Heart worked the dildo into his ass. There was a
horrible, sticky warm feeling starting to dribble into his crack and
matt his fur: Swift Heart, with a bottle of maple syrup and revenge in
his heart. “No!“
REMEMBER: This is not nearly as bad as not caring.
“Does Slave Bear want the gag again,” jeered Gentle Heart. “Does it? Does it?”
“There we go,” said Share, applying the last of the eyeshadow. “Slut Bear is ready. Ready to be a slut.“
Tears of pain were already making Grumpy’s mascara run. He had to squint
at the flowers bobbing in front of him, sunflowers with vacant smiles:
Friend Bear was already yanking out his penis, pumping it amiably in his
paw. There was a tiny red heart etched on the glans.
?Oh, I’ll never be able to get that horrific little idea out of my mind.
“Open up, Slave Bear!” Friend Bear piped up happily. “Slave Bear is an emotionless fuck machine!“
Tender Heart had rammed the dildo in, stopped there like some horrible
and inevitably pink obstruction: and there was a giggling that sounded
horribly like Playful Heart Monkey, which never boded well. In the
throes of absolute agony, Grumpy Bear let his jaw hang slack: Friend
Bear took the opportunity to ram himself inside Grumpy’s mouth, making
him gag, smearing cheap lipstick into Friend’s marigold fur. Somebody
had started spanking him again, slow and methodical, butt nearly
steaming with the punishment.
“Hey, Slave Bear.” It was Bright Heart Raccoon, dark eyes mild and
curious as he crouched down to see Grumpy eye-to-eye. He held up two
small clamps: he smiled benignly as they sparked with electricity. It
was a deeply, deeply awful expression. “Tender Heart told me to invent a
“Slave Bear will have his whorish nipples burnt off,” yelled Cheer. “Slave Bear is a useless cockgobbler. Go! Go! Go!“
?JESUS CHRIST CHEER BEAR IS SCARING THE SHIT OUT OF ME
Grumpy shrieked into yellow friendcock as somebody removed the plug from
his anus: it was even worse going out than it had been going in, and
something disconcertingly organic was taking its place. He had no time
to wonder: the leader of the Care Bears thrust his way into Grumpy’s
tortured care-channel, prompting another squeak from the victim. Swift
Heart was spanking him worse than ever. Tender Heart made a deeply
wounded noise in his throat: then he pulled out from Grumpy, and came in
a wash of small red hearts all over his back.
I can’t decide if the joint ass-rape/spanking is an error by the author, or if the Care Bears have pacticed this so often they’ve figured out how to synchronize dual ass punishments. Also, FFF has ruined me.
“Grhgaaarghghgh,” Grumpy managed, before Friend Bear jizzed
sunflowers into his eyes. One slopped down his face and hung off his
chin with limp, greasy petals. Before he had time to spit flowers out
his mouth, Proud Heart Cat had taken his place, and somebody had given
Cozy Heart a bullwhip.
Wait a second — the Care Bears ejaculate the symbols on their stomaches? Wow. Does that mean that Funshine Bear, whose symbol is the sun, shoot sunbeams out of his dick? Because that would be the best party trick ever.
There was a slow, blurred parade of fuckbeatings, and Cheer Bear having
gotten a megaphone: Grumpy gazed blearily up, straining his neck as
stars dribbled down his forehead wetly. He stared into the smiling faces
of Secret Bear and Funshine, the first of whom was whispering busily
into Funshine’s ear.
“Ooh, Grumpy, I mean, Slave Bear,” said Funshine merrily. “Secret Bear
says – ” Whisper. “Secret Bear says he’s going to fuck you so hard your
insides burst open and your small intestine falls out on the floor, and
then he’s going to jizz in it so hard your mom will feel it! And your
grandma! He’s going to rape your internal organs, kind of like that one
passage in Lolita! Then he’s going to cut a hole in your belly and bang you that way, bitchbot!” Funshine paused. “Wow, Secret Bear. You read Lolita?”
I HAVE MY DOUBTS THAT THE SHIT GOING DOWN ISN’T AS BAD AS NOT CARING
“Do you like pizza, Slave Bear,” Lotsa Heart boomed, jacking off wildly into a piece of pepperoni. “Because I like pizza!“
As opposed to jacking off calmly into a piece of pepperoni pizza.
“Hey, Slave Bear, looksee,” Love-a-Lot cried, as Cheer carefully and
beamingly applied the last rainbow sticker to her neon pink strap-on.
“Doesn’t this look totally neat-o?“
“Grumpy? Grumpy Bear?”
When he woke up, eyelids gummed nearly together, all he saw were a sea
of anxious faces in front of him, and somebody waving a flower in front
of his nose. He was tempted to pass off the last five hours as some kind
of nightmare: too many cookies at 3 AM, in bed.
I hate when I eat too many rape cookies and dream that the Care Bears through me in the rape rack.
The swollen ache soon
changed that idea. Far from being furious, though, he just felt
curiously empty and weightless, and somehow familiar. For the first time
since his ordeal, he felt something usual: the totally irritated, but nonetheless –
“Hey, guys,” he said weakly.
“How do you feel?” Swift Heart, anxious.
Grumpy Bear gave a beatific smile to the general world. “Know what?”
They all held their breath.
“I care that I seem to be bleeding profusely from my rectum, but I do care.”
They erupted in a loud cheer.
“This calls for a party!” said Birthday Bear. “With cake! And loud
music, and icecream, and piz – okay, maybe not that stuff – and waffles
and pudding and FUN! Right now! For all our friends! Don’t you think so,
Tender Heart? Hey, Tender Heart?”
Tender Heart woke up and found that he did not, in fact, care.
“Aw, well,” said Grumpy, with a faint passing wistfulness that his role
as Bitch of Care-a-Lot was well and truly over. Tender Heart’s, on the
other hand, had only begun. “To the rape rack!”
So what is the moral of this little story?
? You should always care, so your friends don’t decide to gang-rape you.
? Sometimes, a monsterfuck is the only solution.
? Cheer Bear is the most fucked up cartoon character of the ’80s
? If you get caught in a Care Bear stare, you can probably kiss your anal virginity away.
I don’t know, my friends. But whatever the answer is, you’d best care. Care for your fucking life.