Lewis stood outside the doors to Bay 4, even before his change of heart he hated this place; it had been so long since he last stepped through these doors that he’d forgotten the particulars, but the overall stench of fear and pain had stuck to him for years.
And now that stink was stronger than ever.
Lewis could feel the eyes of the camera focusing in on him so reluctantly, he walked inside, preparing himself for the horrors within, only to find it was worse than he imagined.
Bay 4 was The Bad Breeding Pen, the place where Bad Fluffies go to get punished, the stallions were hopped up on so many drugs and supplements that they were more cock than Fluffy, forgetting all about friend or family, only focussing on when they could get their next enfing, and they were never gentle about it.
The mares though, they got the rough end, while the stallions essentially had their minds wiped cleaned y the drugs, the mares were forced to remember everything. They were pillowed, silenced and were either blinded or blindfolded depending on the mood of the surgeon, they were then stuck into an immobilisation board and placed into a small box with an opening at the back for the stallions.
They would never see the Fluffy that raped them, they would never see their babies or feel them or feed them, as soon as they gave birth the babies were taken to the Nursery, they were given an hour to calm down, then the whole process started over again, a lifelong punishment until their little hearts gave out.
Lewis walked through to the main hub of the pen, his senses overwhelmed by the sounds of wailing and enfing, the smell of shit and cum, the sight of vicious stallions and distraught mares. For a moment he wondered if he made a mistake picking this over Mongola’s surgery.
But then he remember if he stayed in that room he was going to kill either Mongola or himself, this was the better solution. If only just.
Ignoring the sickening sights around him, Lewis made his way to the central hub, there the two main workers of Bay 4 waited for him. Tommy Beecher and Sammy Daniels both claimed to be two separate people, but to look at them you’d swear they were some fucked-up twins, both had the same balding haircut, the same pear-shaped bodies with thin chests leading into large bellies, and both had that dumb fucking expression on their faces, most of the time stuck to gormless but occasionally they switched to cruel evil when dealing with Bad Fluffies.
Whether they’d turned cruel from spending so long in Bay 4 or if were they always abusive prick Lewis didn’t know, and honestly he didn’t want to.
Tommy – or was it Sammy – grinned at Lewis when he saw him. “Well, well, well, look at our new arrival.”
“Supposed to be here at 9am Tommy.”
“And what time is it now Sammy?”
“Not a good start to the week is it?”
“No it is not.”
Lewis glared at the two fuckwits, hating their double-act style of talking. “Guys, I clock in at 9 and it takes forever to get here, I’ll be faster tomorrow ok?”
“Tomorrow isn’t today is it Sammy?”
“No it is not Tommy. If we wanted him on time tomorrow.”
“Then we wouldn’t be asking him to be on time today.”
Lewis fought every instinct to roll his eyes. “Look, just tell me what I need to do, am I matching pairs and just cleaning up cum today?”
“Listen to him Sammy.”
“He thinks he’s matching Fluffies Tommy?”
“But he’s not doing that.”
“No he is not. He’s on dead duty.”
“Why don’t you tell him what dead duty is Sammy.”
“He’s picking out the dead Fluffies Tommy.”
“Lot of dead Fluffies in them pens.”
“Some might have been fucked before they died.”
“Some might have been fucked after.”
“He still gotta clean them pens out all the same.”
Dead Fluffies, Lewis has dealt with that before, might as well get on with it to get away from the Blunder Twins. “Ok, I’ll get on that. Do we have gloves or anything?”
The laughter from the Humpty and Dumpty told him probably no but he left before they could start talking again. Luckily he was able to find some plastic bin-bags in the cupboard and used them as make-shift gloves, not great but better than nothing.
Bay 4’s design was mostly automated, Tommy and Sammy would match a stallion to a mare by type and colour, the computer would place the stallion on a conveyor belt running around the outside to the chosen mare, then he’d do his thing and that was it. Simple work physically but mentally it took a lot out of you, having the listen to the whining, the mumbled crying, the indecipherable yells for ‘babbehs’, it either annoyed you or broke your heart. Most of the time, both.
Lewis found a bio-waste bucket and set to work, he was horrified – but not shocked – to find there were more dead mares than he realised, every fourth or fifth box had either a dead or dying Fluffy inside, some had been dead for days and were left to start rotting. Again Lewis couldn’t tell if it was sheer laziness or a fucked up way of exploiting the Fluffies acute sense of smell.
He thanked God, Buddha and the tooth fairy for providing him with the bag when one corpse nearly tore in half as he tried to lift, some fairly fresh cum left dribbled out and Lewis felt sick thinking about how doped that stallion must’ve been not to notice.
As Lewis went along the pens disposing of dead Fluffies he came across a familiar sight, even with the loss of her eyes and her legs, she still had her distinctive yellow and black spotted coat and the surgical scar from yesterday.
Why the hell was 27-50 in Bay 4? She was barren, Mongola saw to that yesterday when he carved out her uterus. And now that Lewis was thinking about it, why were the dead mares being used as fuck-toys?
Lewis returned to Tommy and Sammy. “Hey, either of you know why 27-50 is in here?”
“Little thing was a bad mother.
“Bad mothers come here to be punished.”
Lewis had to fight not to yell at their stupid fucking talking bullshit. “Ok, but do you either of you know that she’s got a hysterectomy yesterday? This is a breeding bay and you have a Fluffy who can’t breed, it’s the same with the dead mares, why are you having Fluffies waste sperm, I thought the whole point of this place was to make foals to sell off.”
“That’s what the official motto says.”
“But our unofficial motto is different.”
“Management don’t mind if a couple mares drop dead.”
“If they weren’t nice then we give them a little something.”
“Something extra to fuck them over one more time.”
Lewis turned away in disgust, the two of them were throwing doped Stallions to dead mares just as a final Fuck You to Fluffies they didn’t like. Lewis felt like running to Management there and then to report them.
But from what he’d seen over the last week, Management probably already knew and encouraged it.
“No fucking way.”
Jackson fought back from throwing his lunch up, Lewis had arrived as a way of getting as far from Bay 4 as possible during his break, hoping that the distance would ease his mind.
“I sweat it Jackson, they were just having Fluffies fucking each other for the sake of it, it was almost like they enjoyed the punishment.”
“Christ, I knew we had some abusers in here, I’ve seen it on security, but if I knew those Fluffies were dead…”
“Don’t blame yourself Jackson, Management should’ve shut down that Bay a long time ago. My issue right now is personal, I’m four hours into a week-long shift and already I’m ready to pack it in. I need that vacation and fast.”
“Well Lou, my only advice right now is don’t quit, that’s what Michaels wants from you, he can’t fire you just yet but he’s looking for any excuse to get you out the door. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
“I’m not going to quit. But I may do a murder-suicide and take him with me.”
Lewis laughed, thankful for Jackson’s good humour, he was going to need it over the next week.
Lewis returned from his break expecting to return to cleaning duties, instead he found Tommy and Sammy standing, waiting for him to arrive.
Lewis was instantly on edge. “Should I be worried right now?”
“Not at all Mr Carter.”
“We were told to let you try the computer.”
“Have a hand at choosing the next generation.”
“In a manner of speaking.”
Still iffy about the pair, Lewis cautiously stepped up to the computer and sat down on the chair, trying to ignore the sweat-stains, Sammy – or was it Tommy? – leant over him to explain the computer.
“Now this is dead easy work.”
“A Fluffy could probably do it.”
“Computer picks two Fluffies.”
“One male, one female.”
“And puts them together, from there you look at the colours.”
“And you match the colours to see if they’ll work.”
“Now we got four sets of colours in Bay 4, we got primary.”
“That’s your red, blues and yellows.”
“We got secondary.”
“Purples, oranges and greens.”
“We got tertiary.”
“Browns and other shit colours.”
“And we got shades.”
“Black and white and the likes.”
Lewis nodded, hoping they’d stop their incessant back-and-forth talking, they didn’t.
“Primary Fluffies can mate with anyone.”
“Secondary colour Fluffies only mate with Shades and Primaries.”
“Tertiary Fluffies only mate with Primaries.”
“And Shades only mate with Primaries and Secondaries.”
“Suppose to cut down on the shitty colours.”
“Except when it’s an Alicorn.”
“Alicorns can fuck anyone.”
Lewis nodded again, just wanting them to shit up. “Ok, I got it, thanks, let’s see if I can put that to practise.”
He clicked on the first match-up; 06-23, a red unicorn stallion and 27-87, an orange earthie mare, both seemed a good match so he clicked YES on the computer and the system went to work, taking 06-23 out of his pen and placing him on the conveyor belt to 27-87. Within minutes Lewis could hear the faint sounds of ‘enf, enf, enf’ in the distance.
“I think he’s caught on quick Sammy.”
“I think he had as well Tommy.”
“Let’s see him take on another one.”
At that moment, Michaels walked in, Lewis knew he was only there to torment him but he tried to pay no attention to the ass-kissing fuckheads.
“Well hello there Mr Carter, how you finding Bay 4?”
“Fucking peachy.” Lewis replied, not looking up from the screen.
“And how’s he been fitting in boys?”
“Had a few words about how we work.”
“But he’s learning.”
Michaels smirked, enjoying seeing Lewis put into this literal hellhole. On the computer screen, Lewis matched 09-55, a brown stallion, with 29-46, a pink Pegasus.
“Now hold on there Carter, you can’t just throw any two random Fluffies together, that was a brown stallion I saw on that screen.”
“It was an Alicorn, and according to my two supervisor here, ‘Alicorns fuck anyone’.”
Michaels sulked away, his small chance to berate Lewis taken from him just as quickly as it arrived, he’d stay a little longer waiting for a fuck-up. Turns out he didn’t have to wait long, because the next match knocked Lewis for a loop.
07-34, a green and red striped unicorn male was matched with 09-12, a light red and yellow Pegasus mare.
“Un-fucking-believable. Are you honestly kidding me with this shit?”
“You having trouble with the system Carter?” Michaels asked with a voice full of faux-concern.
“Too fucking right I’m having trouble, what the hell is 07-34 doing here, I had him in Bay 7 four days ago.”
“Well according to our files, 07-34 was continually aggressive to his handlers so they sent him here for fixing. Don’t want to lose that great coat now do we?”
“Aggressive? He was too fucking timid when I left him, wasn’t fucking his enfie-toy, only wanted his mate back and do you know who that mate was? 09-12, the same fucking bitch that your system has matched him with right now.”
Michaels looked bored by the tirade. “What is your point Mr Carter, I’m getting annoyed with your constant yelling.”
“My point is that this whole fucking place is ass-backwards, we claim to be working towards the best foal production and yet nothing we do shows that. We keep our mares in high-stress, dangerous condition, we basically teach the stallions to be nothing more than fuck-machines, we hire a fucking psychopath as our own personal torturer and we punish Fluffies for doing what comes naturally, 09-12 was pregnant with 07-34’s foals and we forced a miscarriage on her. This isn’t a farm, it’s a fucking prison.”
“Mr Carter, are you refusing to do your job, again?”
“I’m refusing to be part of this bullshit anymore, do you know what’s going to happen if I put 07-34 and 09-12 together?”
“She’s going to recognise him, they were mates and she’s going to recognise his smell so when he doesn’t recognise her and starts raping her, it’s gonna hurt her that much more. Whatever stress she’s already under is going to be amplified and then it won’t matter how great 07-34’s coat is, because 09-12 is going to lose those foals from the stress and we’ve just wasted time and money when we already had her pregnant with those same foals the second she was brought in.”
“You know the rules Mr Carter, regulations require…”
“FUCK THE REGULATIONS! Stop thinking like a businessman and start thinking like a goddamn human. This Farm is wrong and you fucking well know it.”
A silence passed in the room as Lewis finished his tirade, Tommy and Sammy stood silently watching the whole thing unfold, Michaels smirked again, knowing he had Lewis dead-to-rights.
“Mr Carter, I’ll ask you again. Are you refusing to do your job?”
Lewis seethed, he knew Michaels had him. “I am refusing, yes.”
“In that case I have no choice but to say you are terminated from your position here at Frederick’s Family Fluffy Farm, effective immediately. Please gather your things and you will be escorted off the premises, Mr Beecher, please tell the computer to proceed with the pairing.”
Tommy nodded and pushed Lewis out the way to press YES on the computer. Lewis watched as 07-34 – now a foaming horny mad-Fluffy compared to his usual shy self – was carried by the conveyor belt to 09-12.
And he got a horrible idea in his head.
Lewis raced towards 09-12’s pen, hoping he could beat the conveyor belt there, he arrived just in time as 09-12 was starting to sniff something familiar in the air.
Lewis pulled out his switchblade, if he was going out, he was going out with a bang.
With that he plunged the knife in 09-12’s skull, killing her instantly, saving her from the torment of being attacked by a loved one. He pulled her corpse from the pen just as 07-34 arrived, he humped the air a couple times before realising there was no mare for him to fuck. Furious he started snarling and humping harder, the pain in his special lumps needing released and fast.
Lewis took the knife and sliced open 07-34’s neck, he bled out in seconds. Lewis then took the two Fluffy corpses and placed them together in the Bio-Waste bin, hoping that somehow they could reunite somewhere else, somewhere better.
Michaels looked ready to burst with glee. “Mr Carter, forgive my language, but you are well and truly fucked now. You just destroyed private property belonging to this company after you are no longer a part of said company. You are gonna get sued so far up the ass that you…
Michaels was cut off by Lewis’ radio going off. “Uh Lou, it’s Jackson, I just got word from Management, they want to see you straight away.”
“It’s ok Jackson, I’m with Michaels right now, he’ll tell me everything I need to know.”
“No Lou, that’s not what I meant. Management want to see you in Bay 1. You’re gonna talk to Frederick Peterson himself.”