Tuesday: 08:59 am
Lewis Carter waited, he had a single minute until he had to clock in, he would’ve done it already but Management had been on him before about working outside his contracted hours. So to stick it to them, Lewis made sure he was always at least five minutes early for his shift so he could stand in front of the clock-in machine and wait until his shift properly started. It might have wasted his time, but for Management to see him on the cameras standing there, not working when he could’ve already started, was worth those five minutes.
Lewis worked for Frederick’s Filthy Fluffy Farm, actually it was Frederick’s FAMILY Fluffy Farm but its reputation as a dingy breeder mill had sullied its reputation, not that Management ever admitted that. To Lewis and his co-workers, it was just The Farm.
When the Fluffy population got out of control in the city, The Farm started rounding them up to dispose off, until Frederick Peterson, almighty prick that he was, had to idea to start breeding the Fluffies and selling off the best ones, the city still got its Fluffy population under control and The Farm made a profit off the foals.
Now five years later, Frederick was owner of the whole company and did everything he could to squeeze every penny out of his Fluffy stock, from forced breeding to smaller food portions. He was a money grubbing asshats and The Farm’s fall into disrepair was his legacy.
But Lewis, like many of the city’s inhabitants, needed work, and since Fluffies are always breeding there was always need for workers. He’d been working on The Farm for just over two years now and while he hated every minute of it, it did pay him well enought.
The clock hit 9am and Lewis clocked in, he double-checked his work belt for everything he needed; wet-wipes, pen and paper, sorry-stick, switchblade, radio. That last one he picked up and switched on, calling up to Switchboard to let him know he was up and running.
“That’s me online Jackson, let me know where you need me.”
“Lou, you’re 15 seconds late, I’ll tell Management to dock your pay.”
Lou chuckled, Jackson had been with The Farm since basically its inception, he was a war vet so the scars on his face scared the Fluffies meaning he couldn’t work directly with them, and his missing right leg meant he wouldn’t have been able to even if he wanted. But he could micro-manage with the best of them so Jackson took residency in the Switchboard and kept everyone on track of where they should be. Not an easy job but Jackson kept on top of it better than anyone else.
“Oh please no, I need that money to buy 1/20th of a chocolate bar today.”
“Alright just for that cheek you’re going to Bay 7, the stallions need their toy cleaned out.”
Lewis face dropped, Bay 7 was where they kept the stallions, the REALLY horny stallions who spent their days eating, shitting and fucking their enfie-toys. And it was those enfie-toys which collected their sperm and needed to be cleaned out and replaced so the stallions could fuck them again.
“You’re shitting me Jackson, I’m literally just in the door.”
“Sorry Lou, Management says it needs doing and you’re the only one on shift who’s trained for it. I’ll make it up to you after lunch.”
“You’d better.”
Lewis took a moment to calm himself, sometimes it was easy to forget that most of the time Jackson was just the middleman between the workers and Management, he didn’t choose where to put people but he had to be the one to tell them where to go. Once he felt his heart-rate slow back to normal, Lewis set off for Bay 7.
Bay 7 was one of the few locations on site which wasn’t set up in the usual Eleven Stack System, the stacks here were only Six high to account for the extra space taken up with each stallion pen. Back in the early days of The Farm, maturing stallions were treated much the same as other Fluffies save for the use of the enfie-toy to curb their libidos. The problem being that for a lot of stallions, that toy was their first experience with companionship so they tended to get quite protective of it, especially when a ‘dummy human’ came along and started touching it.
It took one too many ‘sorry-poopies’ for Management to finally outfit Bay 7 with fully enclosed pens complete with lids and built-in safety gloves so all Lewis had to do was place his hands into the gloves, deposit the full semen vial into a little drawer on the front of the pen, then replace it with an empty vial, all without having to even open the pens at all.
Not that that stopped the vicious little shits from trying something of course, as Lewis found out when he prepared himself at 07-01, he reached in with the safety gloves and picked up the enfie-toy, earning a crossed look from O-One.
“Dummeh hoomis gib bak enfie-toy. Hab sowwy-poopies.”
O-One turned his ass to Lewis and let out a stream of wet shit, all of which thankfully just splattered onto the side of the box, just leaving the Fluffy’s pen a stinking mess, though it did make Lewis’ job slightly more difficult with the obstructed view. But he continued on, unzipping the toy’s stomach, pulling out the vial of Fluffy Sperm, dropping it onto a drawer on the front, then replacing it with an empty vial, attaching that to the toy’s ‘special-place’ and zipping it back up again.
When he placed the toy back down again, O-One immediately snatched it from his hands as though trying to protect it, and starting fucking it’s overly expensive flesh-light there and then.
‘Enf, enf, enf, enf, wub enfie-toy. Enf, enf, enf.”
Lewis rolled his eyes and detached himself from the safety gloves, he then took the full vial and placed it into his trolley, making sure it was put into the correct location corresponding with 07-01’s pen.
That was his day for the next hour and a half, he’s go to a pen, pick up the toy, get ‘sorry-poopies’ sprayed at him, replace the sperm vial, then move on. It wasn’t the shit spray that annoyed him – if anything the stallions were just making their own situation worse by covering their own homes in liquid stink – it was the fact that he’d done this so many times over so many years, and still the idiots thought he was hurting their favourite fuck-toy.
Half the time he wanted the flick the little fuckers in the nuts to get them to shut up, but Management says no harm to potential breeders. At least he wasn’t getting covered in shit he supposed.
The monotony of ‘Dummeh hoomin gib bak enfie-toy’ stuck with Lewis for so long that it made a lot more noise when it didn’t happen. Such was the case of 07-34, a fairly recent arrival who had already received a reputation for being quiet and withdrawn, normally that would sound like the ideal Fluffy but in a world run by hormones and ‘enfing’, quiet and withdrawn signalled something was wrong.
Lewis found Three-Four hugging his toy tightly, not fucking it, but actually hugging it, a solemn look on his face, unbefitting of a Fluffy of his calibre, he was a green unicorn with red stripes and a glossy coat, pretty much royalty as far as Management were concerned. Lewis put his hands in the gloves and reached for the toy.
“Hello Three-Four, may I see your stuffy-friend for a moment please?”
Three-Four paused for a moment before pushing the toy towards Lewis. “Pwease be cawefuw wib stuffy-fwiend.”
“Don’t worry, I will.”
Lewis opened the toy only to find an empty vial inside, the thing was spotless. He checked the notes for Three-Four’s past inspections and sure enough, this wasn’t the first time an empty vial had been found.
“Three-Four, why are you not using your enfie-toy for its intended purpose?”
“Thwee-Fouw nu wan gib bad-huggies tu stuffy-fwiend, Thwee-Four wan speciaw-fwiend bak, wan see babbehs, babbehs need daddeh fow wub an huggies.”
Lewis was confused, nothing in the notes suggested that Three-Four had been bred yet, he’d only been with them a couple week, not enough time to fully test him for breeding purposes. He pulled his hands out the gloves and called Jackson.
“Yo Jackson, I got a data issue I need cleared up. 07-34’s not been using his enfie-toy, says he only wants to fuck his special-friend, but notes say he hasn’t been bred yet. We missing something here or what?”
“Give me a sec, I’ll look it up. Let’s see, let’s see… here we are, 07-34 right?”
“That’s the one.”
“Says here he was brought in with a female, 09-12, they were separated soon as they got here. Says here 09-12 was brought in for check-ups and testing, turns out she was pregnant and nobody knew until she starting singing to her ‘tummy babies’.”
“Fuck, how the hell was that missed on the original paperwork?”
“Because it was bloody Jamie that found her, says she didn’t ‘look pregnant’ so he never followed up on the testing.”
“Fucking Jamie, that boy must be one of the laziest pricks we’ve ever had work for us.”
“Not anymore, they fired him for that one. Management says all births must be strictly regulated to ensure the best outcome, they forced a miscarriage on her.”
“Christ, sounds rough.”
“It gets worse Lou, after they killed her kids, 09-12 threw a fit, started attacking anyone who came near her. Ah fuck, they took her to Bay 4.”
“You’re kidding. Jesus I’d be kinder telling him that she died, no-one comes back from Bay 4 the same, most don’t come back at all.”
“You don’t need to tell me, Lou, I’ve seen the security footage. What you want done about Three-Four, can’t keep a stallion who won’t fuck.”
“I’ll make a note on his records to start putting hormone supplements in his feed, he’s got good colours, even for a feral, Management would have my balls if I disposed of him. I’ll also put that any questions about his mate need to be by-passed as much as possible, don’t want that stress to put him on edge.”
“Testosterone and ignorance, sounds like my son.”
“Please, I’ve seen your son play football, no way can you call that testosterone.”
“You cheeky fucker Lou, you forget I’m the one who assigns your shifts? I might just put you on clean-up duty in Bay 21 if you keep that talk up.”
“Duly noted, I best get back to it before Management has my ass.”
“Just say it was my fault, I’m too important for them to fire.”
“You kidding me, I always blame you. Thanks for the help Jackson, see you in a bit.”
“See ya Lou.”
Lewis put down his radio and turned back to Three-Four, the look of worry on his face almost made Lewis feel saddened.
Almost.
“Start using your toy to relieve some stress, it’ll make you feel better.”
With that Lewis updated 07-34’s records, and moved on to the next pen, already preparing himself for the sorry-poopies, for the first time in his career the familiarity of shit flying at his face felt oddly comforting.
