Abuser’s Web Guide, Episode 18
By: Turboencabulator
A small herd of fluffies are curled up in little beds, in a half-lit room, watching a projected
film. A smooth sax line and the opening shots of Poirot are playing. Interocitor waves from
behind the collected fluffies, before making a shush gesture and creeping out of shot.
A quick cut later and he’s in another room, a window visible to the little fluff cinema behind
him.
“Hey folks, it’s movie night, which means tomorrow is checkup day. Now, if you’re like me, you
probably know enough about fluffy medicine you won’t need a vet for most things, but if you’re
a hobbyist at this, or just a casual fluffy owner who likes the show, you really should get
them checked out twice a year. Naturally, don’t take them to anyplace branded or endorsed by
Hasbio. They’re crap.”
He picks up a large plastic toolbox affair and sets it on the table. “Which brings us to
today’s topics, checkups, and caring for disabled fluffies. The ‘avoid hasbio’ goes double for
this step, unless you hate your fluffies. Now, here I have a standard Alenix ‘House Visit’ vet
kit, which should be a perfect first purchase for any of you all interested in doing your own
checkups. This will set you back a few bills but it’s very worth it. I’m going to be restocking
this tonight in preparation for tomorrow but let’s go over what we’ll be covering in detail
today.”
“First, how to give a basic checkup, from chirpies to the old farts in your herd. Some of this
was covered before when we talked about illnesses fluffies can get, but some will not
be. Second is going to be some fluffy basic care, including treating sicknesses, heatstroke,
things of that nature. After that, we will be covering some of the basics on how to care for
fluffies who are physically disabled. Finally we will be covering how to make disabled
fluffs, which can be a lot of fun even if you screw it up.”
“Some of you were asking where my fluffy recipe videos were for thanksgiving, and the answer
is, I didn’t do them. Sorry, but this year the missus came home from Iowa with a goddamn
forty-six pound turkey. Forty-six pounds. We’re going to be eating turkey sandwiches until
Easter.”
The shot cuts to overhead as Interocitor opens up the box, setting out empty trays and sliding
out drawers. “Now, naturally you can assemble your own vet kits, and I’ve taken the time to
augment the Alenix kit with some stuff of my own. Let’s go through what you should have in a
basic veterinary kit for fluffies.”
“The first thing is you really should have is a decent sized case for things. If you have a
fluffy injured outside somewhere, it can be a lot like when a human is injured, moving them
might do more damage. If you do need to move a fluffy that’s been seriously injured, get them
on a piece of plywood or other firm surface first, and remember. Do not lift them on to the
wood, roll them. This keeps their spine aligned in case of trauma.”
“So, you’re going to want something with decent depth and capacity, and you’ll want at least
one big section. I’ve found that Plano cases or machinist’s toolboxes work alright, but big
tackle-boxes are also an option. As a side note one of my buds has a ‘first aid box’ set of
files up on Thingiverse, so those of you who are so inclined can 3D-print your own. The Alenix
kit can be purchased with or without a case, so double check that if you purchase it.”
“Right, big stuff first.” Interocitor says, putting all the drawers but one
aside. “Stethoscope, for checking heartbeat and breathing.” He says, putting one
in. “Otoscope, for inspecting inside the ears and nostrils.” He flashes the light at the camera
and then turns it on edge, pointing to the tip. “Make sure you get fluffy sized tips for it,
and you’ll want to have spares on hand. Plastic disposable ones are cheap but if you get metal,
make sure you both can clean them correctly, and your fluffies aren’t allergic.”
“Shaver.” He says, holding out a barber’s buzzer. “Yes this is a medical device for fluffies,
technically. You’ll find these more effective than soaking a fluffy in water for treating
heatstroke, and are required if you want to use, drumroll…” He puts a blue and white zipper
case down, and opens it to reveal a box and some accoutrements. “A fluffy defibrillator. Yes
they make these, no you can’t use them on their head to ‘reset’ them. The reset doesn’t
exist. That’s a myth started by 4chan to get people to electrically lobotomize their fluffies.”
He packs everything neatly in one tray and throws in a rubber-banded bundle of tongue
depressors. “Yes, these too. With some zip-ties they make excellent limb splints for basically
any size fluffy.”
“Finally you’ll want one of these.” He says, holding out a box on a cuff. “This is a digital
fluffy-specific sphig-, spi-…” He sighs, then slowly sounds out. “Sphygmomanometer. Blood
pressure cuff. Thing.”
“Now, some more fluffy-specific tools.” He says, rattling off a list of items as he puts them
in another drawer, in their own dividers. “Fluffy nebulizer, which is actually one of the best
ways to get high-volume drugs into sensitive fluffies. The ever needed rectal corks, with or
without epoxy coating, elastic castration tools if you don’t want to go the surgical route, a
pill injector for shovin’ meds down their throat if they’re not cooperative, reflex hammer for
fluffies, and a folding light-duty immobilizer, which slides into the bottom of this bin unit
quite nicely.”
“Now, meds. Alenix have made IV and oral painkillers that won’t also kill a fluffy, so please
stick with those.” He says, shaking a bottle of tablets and putting it in a tray. “For IV drugs
you’ll want a 1cc max syringe, and 16 gauge needles or smaller.” He stocks those in a bin, and
puts in a few vials of drugs. “I’m including in mine a basic sedative, some antibiotics, and an
antipyretic. This.” He says, holding up a bottle of liquid with a green and orange striped band
around the top. “Is an abortion shot. You will want this on hand. It works from a few hours
after the fuckin’ happens up to almost literally when she starts screaming. It is not nice, and
she will definitely be traumatized by it. Which might be your thing but keep it in mind.”
“You’ll also want the usual array of fluids and stuff. Alcohol wipes, iodine, q-tips, cotton
pads, bandages, topical antibiotics, antifungals, and the like.” He says, populating the
drawers. “You should also have on hand sterile gloves, a good pen light, and aspirin for you in
case the little shit is a handful.”
“Now, my own additions.” Interocitor says, and puts down a pill bottle of gelcaps. “This is a
fluffy anti-constipation mix. You will use these. It’s a small gel cap, with one gram of
senna powder and the rest is powdered milk. Even adult fluffs will need only one. And they will
shit themselves empty, so make sure they stay hydrated.”
A tub of balm is set down. “This is a homemade mixture of essential oils and a bit of
capsaicin. This is not for punishment, but it works incredibly well for old, arthritic
fluffies. The recipe will be in the description, make sure you use cold pressed olive oil and
real goddamn beeswax, no petroleum garbage.”
After some fishing and rattling, Interocitor sets down an old jar. “Vick’s vap-o-rub. I swear
by this if you or your fluffies have a cold. We’ll cover how to use it with fluffies in the
next part but keep this stocked up.”
A bottle of children’s aspirin is thrown in. “Yes, from your grannie to your grandkids, and now
fluffies. Bayer has you covered.”
A little rectangular case is set down. “Remember Listerine strips? Benadryl strips. Yes. They
work.”
A dropper bottle is set down. “Diluted syrup of ipecac, for when you need a fluffy to vomit and
you don’t have a John Waters film on hand.”
“I was once asked about anti-diarrhea meds for fluffies. I gave them a cork. Really all you can
do.”
“And finally, for the cracked hoofpads, bag balm.” He says, putting down a tin of cream. “Yes,
that bag balm, for hard working hands or cow udders. It works on hoofpads like nothing else,
but don’t put it on their teats if they’re nursing.”
“So, that should be a basic vet kit for you to get started with. I’m including a link to
Alenix’s online bookstore for some recommended reading in detail, but in the next part we’re
going to cover a basic checkup, and treating the three most common sicknesses in
fluffies. Colds, heatstroke, and gas, plus a bonus fourth ailment.”
The shot opens with Interocitor setting an alicorn stallion down on a towel on a bench. “Right
everyone, say hello to Edison, he’s going to be helping me show how to do a checkup.”
Edison waves, his blue-grey coat sparkling silver under the light. “Hewwo.” He says, shifting a
bit nervously.
“So, fluffies tend to have a resting heart rate of around 80-90, though in juveniles this can
be as high as 110. Pressure is about human, with healthy at around 110/60 or thereabouts.”
Interocitor says, gently laying Edison on his side. “Your blood pressure unit will be tapered
and have a line on it. This line should lay along the front of their flank, with the dot at the
end right at the knee on their hind leg.”
Interocitor puts the pressure cuff on Edison. “Now, the first time you’ll need to guide them
through it, but because this one is designed to use their femoral artery it needs less
pressure, and so freaks them out less. Edison is used to this so he’s calm.”
After the cuff cycles, Interocitor reads it off. “76 and 105/55.” He says, taking the cuff off,
and putting the stethoscope on. “Breathing is next, you want to listen for crackling,
crunching, hissing, or flapping.” He says, then listens to Edison. “Follow the line of the
curve down the ribcage, on both sides, and then down the back on both sides, about a finger
length off the spine.”
“Right, that’s all fine. Now, the nose and ears.”
The shot changes to show the inside of Edison’s ear. “This is normal, no reddening, no odd
nodules, and the skin inside is smooth and pink.”
The nose is next, showing a few bogeys but otherwise smooth. “This is good as well, though some
fluffies can have seasonal allergies, so watch the mucal membranes at the top there for
inflammation and reddening.”
The shot cuts back to Edison and Interocitor. Edison is pawing his nose and snuffling a
bit. “So, reflex checks aren’t done usually unless you notice an issue with their gait or
balance. Edison here is a show-jumper so he’s been giving me plenty of options to watch, and
he’s entirely fine. Check down the throat for the usual suspects, sore throat, tonsilitis,
strep, what have you. Fluffies need their teeth checked for the same stuff you see in horses,
but they tend to have fairly robust oral health as long as there’s no overt trauma. Or they’ve
been eating feces.”
“After this, is the skin check.” Interocitor says, taking out a comb and beginning to check
Edison’s skin, gently combing the fluff aside. “Usual trouble spots are the line of the mane,
the back of the neck, the belly, and around the anus. Edison is well behaved so he doesn’t need
corked but he’s one of the few I don’t need to worry about. Make sure you also check the base
of wings, tail, and the horn for irritation.”
“Ah, here’s something.” Interocitor says, and the camera switches to a shot of the underside of
the joint of Edison’s wing, revealing a black protrusion. “Ticks love this spot. Just put some
petroleum jelly on it, wait about ten minutes, and then you can pull it out with tweezers.” He
says, daubing some jelly on the tick’s protruding posterior. “'Cuz the little bastards breathe
through their butt.”
Edison twitched his ear. “Wut? Dey butts?”
“Yeah, ticks breathe through their rears.” Interocitor says, patting Edison. “Weird little
things aren’t they.”
Edison giggled and nodded, tail swishing as Interocitor finishes his inspection. “Ok. So. Wings
next, just make sure there’s nothing loose and the bones aren’t getting burrs.” He says, gently
feeling both wings from base to tip. “After this, there’s little more you need to worry
about. Fluffies tend to be either completely fine or completely hosed and very little
between, except for specific things. So let’s go see about one now.”
The shot returns to Interocitor with an absolutely lurid magenta-pink mare under a blanket,
shivering and coughing, her fluff matted with mucus under her nose.
“This unfortunate gal is Paris, and she has a cold.”
Paris sneezes, and coughs heavily before laying down and pulling the blanket more over her.
“So, we have respiratory involvement, chills, and low energy. First, we need to get her
breathing better, or this could get into pneumonia territory, which is very very bad for
fluffies.” Interocitor says, setting up a small mylar fluffy tent. “We’re going to be doing
this with a Vick’s tent. The human version of this is just as effective. Set up a space that
you can enclose, for fluffies a little camping tent is perfect, for humans, a towel over a bowl
so you can stick your head under.”
Interocitor sets up a hotplate and a large kettle of water. “Take one half gallon of water, add
one tablespoon of vick’s vap-o-rub and stir thoroughly.” He says, dumping in a little more than
a tablespoon and stirring it with a wooden spoon. “Now you’ll need to get a length of garden
hose and adapt it to the end of your kettle, I’ve done it with a cork.” He shows the cork,
sticking it in the spout of the kettle, then puts it on to heat. “So this will make a
mentholated steam generator. Just make sure your hose is long enough the steam cools to a
comfortable, warm fog when it enters the tent.”
“Come on Paris, time for the breathy-tent.” He says, gently putting Paris in and zipping the
flap halfway.
“Dis da funny-steam?” She asks, coughing, and hoarse.
“Yes, dear, it’s coming up to steam soon.” He says, pulling the end of the hose over. “You just
lay down and rest.”
Paris is already on her side, intermittently coughing. Soon the hose beings to emit steam,
which Interocitor checks on his hand before putting the end of the hose in the open tent
flap. After a few minutes, the tent is filled with fog, and Paris is coughing clearer and
clearer as gunk in her loosens up and comes out.
“So, about ten minutes should be enough.” Interocitor says, after a fast-forward segment, and
he takes the hose out of the tent, turning off the hot plate. After pulling Paris out, he sets
her on a pad and checks her over.
After one sneeze off to the side, Paris is breathing easily, though she’s still shivering.
“Better?”
“Yus, nu haf breaffy-owwies.” Paris says, tiredly.
“So, let’s get you a warm bath and then back to the hot pad.” Interocitor says, to loud whining
and grumbling.
“So, next. Heatstroke. It’s November, so I had to improvise.” Interocitor says, before turning
the shot to show a fluffy in an empty aquarium with heat lamps and a space heater pointed
in. The fluffy is drinking water, panting heavily, and looking around with unfocused eyes,
disoriented.
“This is some random little fuckwit that decided one of my best nurse mares would make a good
rape target. Unfortunately he also picked the one that was known for smacking bad mothers, so
he lost that confrontation. Found her sitting on him and making him eat his own sorry poopies.”
After moving the fan and lamps, Interocitor fishes out the unicorn stallion, now a rather nice
green color in normal light, setting him in an immobilization board. “Now, hydration is
important, but the main thing you need to remember about fluffies is uh, they’re fluffy. Their
fluff traps a lot of heat, and it can be a lot harder to cool one down than to warm one
up. Your first instinct might be to soak them in water, which unfortunately does not help. The
water evaporates from the surface out, so while it might cool them down a little, it doesn’t
help the heat get through their fluff from their core any faster.”
Interocitor fishes out the shaver and turns it on, immediately running it down the fluffy’s
back. “You want to shave your fluffy, from the top of their skull to the base of their
tail. Right over the spine, at least two inches wide. This lets the heat radiate out from their
spinal cord and brain, which is the first point of concern.”
The fluffy yeeps, but starts relaxing, drinking more water from a provided bottle.
Interocitor continues, “Yes, icewater in their stomach helps a lot, but if you have a really
bad case, the ‘fun part’ is now.”
He holds up a small bucket of icewater, and a large plug. “Cold water enema.”
One quick motion and a loud yelp from the fluffy and the plug is inserted. Interocitor pours
the water down a funnel connected to the plug and the fluffy immediately urinates, his hips
buckling downward as his whole abdomen contracts and spasms, the fluffy making a little creaky
reeeek sound, and crossing his eyes.
“Wait two minutes, then…” Interocitor says, turning the fluffy over a sink and pulling the
plug out.
A loud whining, groaning flow of disgusting water later and the fluffy is breathing heavily,
collapsed in the leg immobilizer, in a daze.
“He’s fine.” Interocitor says, putting the fluffy back in a cage on the back wall. “And salvageable. Maybe.”
“Right.” Interocitor says, at his fluffing-bench, sans additional fluffy. “This one we have a
bit of an issue. The fluffy that I was going to use to show you how to treat gas is quite
dead.”
He reaches under the counter and deposits a healthy looking earthie stallion corpse on the
steel benchtop. “So we’re going to perform a necropsy instead, and I’ll post the unedited
version on the patreon. This little goober was complaining of gas pains and nausea, which I
took to mean he had gas and had eaten too fast. If this was death by gas it’ll be a first for
me, but we’ll find out soon enough.”
A cut later and the fluffy is in a foam tray, scooped so it rests on its back, splay-legged,
head looking off to one side. “Now fluffies are best opened with a double-Y incision, starting
from above the armpit and meeting at the top of the sternum, and the thighs and meeting just
above the genitals.”
He makes the incisions, carefully. “Next join the cuts.” Another smooth cut, and Interocitor
slowly separates the layers, pulling them back with clamps and retractors, all in fast motion,
until the fluffy is laying open.
“I’m going to say this is for academic purposes but I really wanna use this.” He says, showing
off a shiny surgical saw. “Came in two days ago.”
Another burst of fast-forward and the ribs are removed, the whole of the fluffy’s internal
anatomy revealed.
“So you can see this goober’s got a heck of a large stomach when empty, which is not normal for
a fluffy, and his rectum is basically empty, also not normal for a fluffy.” Interocitor says,
taking out some clamps, and indicating with one. “And if you look down here, the valve that
goes into the duodenum is swollen, and there’s a lump here in the small intestine, so let’s
just remove the stomach and that section of intestine and see what we have.”
Quite a lot of fast-forwarding later, Interocitor has a segment of intestine and the stomach
and duodenum clamped shut on a tray. “Right, let’s see.”
He cuts open the intestine and pulls out a heavily stained piece of what looks like cloth.
“What on earth? Is this a dryer sheet?” He asks of nobody, turning it over. “Ok, I’ve heard of
this. Sometimes fluffies will eat things they think smell nice so it makes their poops less
offensive if they’ve been having particularly foul stools. Must’ve irritated his small
intestine and gotten stuck.”
“Let’s look at the oh my god.” He says, unclamping the stomach, which deflates with a surge of
gas and a bubbling spew of green-black ooze. Interocitor is heard retching and the camera cuts
to black.
After a technical difficulties card, the shot returns to Interocitor in a new shirt and a large
pot of tea. “Remember folks. Ginger settles queasy stomachs. I apologize for that last segment
but if hell has a smell I have scented it.”
“So, I went around and talked with some of the deceased’s pen-mates and, well, this is one for
the books on fluffy dumbness.” Interocitor said with a sigh, and a sip of tea. “So he has some
bad stool, real stinkers, and decides he wants to make that not be a thing. So he finds a dryer
sheet and eats it, that’s fine, some laxative or an enema and he’d pass it. Except he also eats
his own stool again. To try and have a second go at making better smelling feces.”
Interocitor sighs and rubs his face. “I can’t even with these shitpigs sometimes but this is
what my mom would say is a ‘bless your heart’ moment. Anyways, he went back to the litter-tray
and couldn’t remember which was his turds. So he ate them all, which unfortunately included
some litter. Which expanded in his gut and blocked him up properly.”
“I’m going to finish my tea, and then I’m going to drive over to the liquor store and get a
bottle of rye. I need a drink.”
“Right.” Interocitor says, with Edison again. "Edison here is our fourth fluffy with a little
problem. Edison? "
“Whuh?” Edison asks, looking up at Interocitor.
“You have an owwie problem don’t you.”
Edison winces and whinnies quietly. “Yus, sumtime, when make pee-pees, no-no stick get wowstest huwties an pee-pees go aww wed.”
“Edison, like a lot of high-performance fluffies, which do exist, don’t laugh, has an issue
with kidney stones.” Interocitor says, as the shot cuts to a microscope view of crystals. “They
tend not to develop as large, proportionally, in fluffies, but they do like to appear in large
clusters, so a lot of bad urinating experiences.”
The shot cuts back to Interocitor. “This is because the diet that high performance fluffies eat
tend to include the sort of leafy greens that are high in stone-forming chemicals, such as
spinach, beets, okra, raspberries, sweet potato, and nuts and beans. This isn’t an exhaustive
list but it’s easy to see why this happens a lot.”
“Now, on the market are supplements that cost anywhere from sixty dollars for 30 tablets up to
four hundred dollars for a month’s supply, which are supposed to ‘help’ this. I give
help in quotes because bullshit they do. They’re about as useful spitting on a wildfire.”
“If your fluffy has chronic stones, what you need is about six bucks and a trip to your local
grocery store.” Interocitor says, putting a six-pack of beer on the counter.
“No joke. Beer. Specifically a pale lager or pale ale works best, a quarter to a third cup a
day. Not enough to get 'em bombed but if you keep it up, it does wonders to prevent kidney
stones and is really oddly good for kidney health. Works on humans too.”
Interocitor pours a little bowl of it and slides it over to Edison, who sniffs it, then sucks
it down.
“Edison likes Modelo.”
“Ok.” Interocitor says, sitting down on the floor in a pen. “Disabled fluffs. We won’t be
covering pillowfluffs, they’re their own category, and we covered them in a previous
episode. We also won’t be covering caring for derped or severely psychologically damaged
fluffies, that’s a whole episode on its own. Let’s start with Stomper here.”
Stomper prances over, his missing hind legs replaced with a wheelchair system. “Hewwo.” He
says, linkages in the wheelchair seat letting him sit most of the way down.
“Stomper was rescued from threshing machine about two years ago. Now, some of you might be able to afford proper prosthetics, which are not cheap, and are usually for one leg at most. If
you’re lucky you could find powered prosthetics for them, which are even more not cheap. There
is experimental ‘grow a limb’ type stuff, but I know of exactly four places in the US that can
do that, and three of them are owned by Alenix. The last one is some nutbag in Indianapolis but
I don’t know much about them other than weird things happen there.”
“Stompew daddeh make wheews!” Stomper said, wiggling with a grin in his wheelchair.
“Yeah his current dad, one of my cousins, is an engineer and made this setup for him. Lifts him
up when he moves, sets him down when he stops, patent pending, give him money, all that.”
Interocitor says, patting Stomper. “But, what’s the worst, Stomper?”
Stomper grumbles and huffs. “Owwie-pwaces whewe bewts make wubbies.”
“With strap based prosthetics, wheelchairs, and a few others, you need to inspect yer fluffy
daily to make sure they aren’t developing sores.” Interocitor says, turning Stomper gently and
helping him lean, showing a reddened patch on his stomach. “Like that, yeah. A bandage pad and
bag balm to start, but if it starts getting bad you’ll need medicated lotion and the like. Now,
Stomper’s chair is designed so he can also self-right, but most fluffies won’t have this. So
take this time, go back to the helper-fluff video, and then come back. Cuz basically every
disabled fluffy that you cannot personally spend time with all the time is going to need a
helper.”
The shot cuts, showing a blind mare and a seeing gelding, both an off-orange color.
“This is Duke and Daisy, they’re siblings. Duke was trained as a helper for no-see-fluffs, so
Duke, why don’t you tell them what a helper should know?”
Duke perks up and waves at the camera. “Hewwo. Hepew-fwuffies nee’ wemembew fwee fings. Wun, no-see-fwuffs an hepew fwuffs wawk weggie-tu-weggie.” He says, leaning his shoulder against Daisy’s, who leans back with a giggle.
“Uh, Tuu! No-see-fwuffies can stiww wawk pwaces dey kno weawwy weww, but easiwy get wost, eben in de middwe of de pen.” He continues, thinking.
“Oh yeh, thwee, no-see-fwuffies get scaredsies easiwy, so awways be cawefuw and nu stawtwe
dem.” He finishes, nodding.
“Very good Duke. That really is all your helper fluffies need trained, guide by the shoulder,
teach them where things are, and don’t startle them. You as an owner have your own things,
first is to never re-organize a pen for a blind fluffy without specifically telling the helper
and giving the blind fluff time to re-orient themselves. You’ll also need to make sure that you
schedule appointments for the helper and helpee at the same time, as in non-seeing fluffies
anxiety from separation can be incredibly potent. Also make sure playmates are of a kind
temperament, as some of the mean fluffies will specifically target the blind.”
The shot cuts again to two mares sitting in a cage, talking in a primitive form of sign
language. Interocitor is sitting nearby. “This one I need to recommend a book for, which is
where I got my information. Fluffies can learn a form of sign language that is also taught to
infant humans, and has been extended for deaf fluffies. The book I have in the description is a
full course for you and your fluff to learn. As a side note, studies done on deaf fluffies who
learn this form of communication have shown there’s a statistical correlation with reading
comprehension as well. In general though, there’s enough in the sign language system that
fluffies can communicate decently well, though it does require them to be sitting for use of
both forelimbs.”
“Now, let’s go on to the part you’ve all wanted to get to.”
Interocitor sits down at a freshly cleaned fluffing table, and sets a chirpy down on a warm
pad in the middle.
“Hurray, infant fluffy abuse time.” He says, with deadpan affect.
“So you have a lot of options if you want to cripple a fluffy, and a lot of them can be applied
to infants if you want a disabled fluffy without having the screaming and gaslighting to make
them love you again and all that jazz.” He says, indicating the fawn-colored, peeping fuzzball.
“This one is disposable, since, uh, I said so.” Interocitor says, moving the camera
in. “Blinding an infant is simple, just open its eyelids in the first few days of life.”
He holds the chirpy’s head still, using his index and thumb to open one eye until it frosts,
then the other. The chirpy squirms and squeals, pawing and tapping its forehooves against the
table, letting out a little jet of liquid shit.
“Aaaand done.” He says, letting its head go and its eyes slam shut. He watches as the chirpy
squirms and paws at its own face before it settles down again.
“Now, this happens because the lens of the fluffy is still technically developing and contains
a light-sensitive compound that is consumed as the cells develop. The retina of the fluffy is
perfectly fine, it just has a frosted lens now, so while it has no real ‘vision’ per se, it can
still detect light and dark, as well as extremely general shapes. It could probably tell where
a large television was, if it was on, for instance.”
“To covertly blind a fluffy at any age, I recommend extremely dilute methanol in their water. How much? For once I’m going to leave this as an exercise for you, the viewer. Experiment a bit, you’ll
probably burn threw a few fluffies but that’s how you learn, right?”
“If you prefer something more direct, though,” Interocitor says, lighting an alcohol lamp and
holding a needle in the flame. “I like old-school.”
After a minute, he opens one of the chirpy’s eyes again, sliding the needle in with a sharp
hiss sound. The chirpy screams an ungodly, high keening wail for a moment before Interocitor
withdraws the needle, putting a pad on the ruined eye. The chirpy hyperventilates, trembling
and suckling on its hoof.
“We’ll let this little shit rest, it’s for a friend of mine anyways.” Interocitor says, putting
the chirpie away and coming back with a muzzled stallion, already corked and in a board. The
fluffy glares around, snorting.
“This is a smarty.” Interocitor says, tapping it on the nose. “Given over as a surrender after
it decided any babies that weren’t his own were enfie-toys for him and his toughies. Which
meant exactly one foal got raped and the toughies outed him.”
The smarty managed to almost sneer, comical on a fluffy’s face, but Interocitor ignores him,
putting a pair of earbuds in the fluffy’s ears.
“So, we’re going to be deafening him, and weakening his hind legs so he can’t buck. I’ll also
be giving him a penectomy. This little prick is going to spend a while as a fucktoy for some of
my meaner breeders.” Interocitor says, plugging the headphones into a signal generator. “I’ve
found that lower frequencies, very loud, with sharply defined waveforms work the best.”
Interocitor turns on the box, adjusting the knobs as the smarty starts shaking his head,
whimpering and whinnying around the muzzle. “You could of course use a hot needle in the
eardrum as well, but I rather like the sound version. The last thing they hear is a wall of
noise and then, nothing.”
The smarty starts urinating and screaming through the muzzle, his eyes rolling up a bit,
violently shaking his head, then he stops, calming down and sighing. Interocitor turns off the
box and takes the earbuds out.
“Now, for the hind legs, the needle trick i showed you is one option, but that tends to work
better on younger fluffies. For adults like this, I recommend either a hammer to the ankle, or
dislocate the knee. Like so.”
Interocitor lifts one of the smarty’s legs out of the board, then grips above and below the
knee, bending it outwards slowly before yanking them apart with a sharp crack. The smarty
screams again, this time one eye going bloodshot. Interocitor forces the joint back together
with a gritty crackle, then quickly separates and re-joins the other knee. The smarty passes
out mid-screech.
“Naturally, similar processes can be done to the forelegs.” Interocitor says, with a shrug. “Of
course, if you prefer, paralysis by introducing a sterile needle to the spinal cord is also an
option, but with damaged knee joints the smarty can still be raped easily, but not fight back
by bucking. Also paralysis can often be joined by rectal incontinence, which in fluffies is a
damned nightmare, as you might imagine.”
“Right everyone, thanks for tuning in, there’s no mail call this week unfortunately. Next time
we’ll cover working with derped and mentally unsound fluffies, and for the abusers out there,
ten ways to derp a fluffy that doesn’t leave a mark on them. Now if you’ll excuse me, This
little idiot has a date with Boris. Boris is a Ukranian stud fluff. Boris tore my last ‘relief
fluff’s’ sphincter open. See you all!”
