MicroFluff: Fluffy Processing: Chapter 1 [by SilverOwl]

MicroFluff: Fluffy Processing [by SilverOwl]

*MicroFluff Inc processes thousands of Fluffies per day to online orders. Before they are shipped out, the customer’s the order is tailored to exact customer request. This includes pillowing services, spay and neuter, and other custom requests. Here we follow in the day of two MicroFluff certified Processing Technicians, Britney and Steven.

Britney and Steven sit at their assigned work stations in fluffy processing room 14b. Each processing room can process two fluffies at a time with two technicians. In total there are 250 processing rooms for a total of 500 processing techs. Each station of the two stations is situated on either side of the room with incoming fluffies divided into two conveyor belts. The two belts deliver the order form, fluffy, and shipping instructions. Their work-shift had barely begun when fluffy orders started streaming down the conveyor belts from fluffy sorting upstairs.

Britney picks up a box with a bright orange colt, with a yellow mane and tail. The fluffy wide-eyed and smiling starts to wag its tail with excitement, “Ou be nuw mummah noa? Gib fwuffy big yawd to wun and pway!? Fwuffy wuv to wrun an pway!” Britney already has a headache from these things and she hasn’t even been clocked in for an hour. Its going to be a long day, she can tell already. The fluffy’s irritating prattle snapped her back to conscious thought, “Wrun and pway wif fluffy fwuffy’s babbehs an feed sketties. Babbehs will be gud babbehs an make gud poopies” Britney glances down at the form.

Processing form 34829
Customer: Karen Cox
Color: Light Green
Quantity: 1
Size: Small
Sex: Colt
Tier: 5
Special Requests: Neuter

Without saying anything she picks up the fluffy and places it on its back. The fluffy immediately starts chattering away about some nonsense “pway wif fluffy gonna pway gamsies?” Britney with a quick motion pulls on the fluffy’s balls away from its body, which provokes “SPECIAL WUMPS HURTIES!” and in an instant SLICESLICE. The fluffy immediately let out a loud “SCCCCREEEEEEE!!!” Britney slathered some InstantHeal on the wound and packaged the chirping fluffy for transit. As it is being placed into its shipping crate, it whines about its balls, “Fwuffy neba hab babbehs noa wit nu spwecial wumps”. Britney closes the lid on the fluffy as it “huhuhus” quietly.

The next processing crate was sent to Steven’s station. Its a olive green stallion with a brown mane and tale. The large fluffy jumped around in its processing box, “Hwello be nu daddeh? Be gud fwuffy and make bestest dancie for daddeh. Make gud poopies in the witta bwax”. Steven shook his head, and wonders why anyone would custom order a fluffy with these colors. Then he glances at the form.

Processing form 34830
Customer: Cliff Huxtable
Color: drab green
Quantity: 1
Size: Large
Sex: Colt
Tier: 2
Special Request: Remove tail, and quadruple amputee

He nods and laughs, “Oh ok! I was gonna say…ok so they want a custom litter-pal…cool. Sorry buddy. No more dancing for you ever again”. The fluffy looks confused and starts to cry “why fwuffy nu moar make dancie fo daddeh?” Steven heaves the fluffy that is the size of a large cat up to his station for pillowing and tail removal. He straps the fluffy down on its stomach and adjusted five guillotine like blades above the fluffy’s shoulders, thighs, and tail. Closing one eye and approximating the final cut, he pushes a button and the five blades slam downward on heavy springs through the fluffy’s flesh and bone like it were warm butter. The fluffy immediately starts to “SCRRREEEEEE!!! WHEWE FWUFFIES WEGGIES?! DEY IS GUD WEGGIES!! FWUFFY HAB BAKSIES WEGGIES NOA?” The fluffy continued to panic like this and demand its "weggies as Seven slathered it in InstantHeal, and packaged the poor creature for shipping. The fluffy began to wheeze and panic as the lid closes on it. The fluffy can be heard from within the box still talking, “Fwuffy wub ou why takie weggies? Dey is gud weggies and fwuffy need weggies fo wrun and pway”. The fluffy’s voice trails as it is sent to shipping on a conveyor belt leading away from Steven’s station.

The next fluffy is sent to Britney’s station. She is greeted by a Pink Fluffy mare that greeted her “HEWWO FWUFFY WUV OU!! Fwuffy am gud fwuffy make gud poopies in witta-bawk an gud dancie babbeh fo ou!” Britney glances down at the form hoping to see something like “ship as is”, but instead grimaces. She reads the first few lines of the special requests line and squints. She hates these complicated, not to mention creepy orders.

Processing Form 34831
Customer: Eric Von Goebbels
Color: Cotton Candy Pink
Quantity: 1
Sex: Mare
Tier: 8
Special Request: This beautiful mare shall become a piece of living art unt horror, for my amusement. She will be a tribute to agony, with each whimper she utters from the pain of respiration. Remove her legs, ears, eyes, tongue, tail, mane, and fluff. Then cover the fluffy with ants so that it arrives to me covered in their painful bites.

Britney reads it twice and shakes her head, “People are so fucking weird”. Leaning back to Steven she asks, “Do we have any fucking ants?” Steven laughs, “What?!” still laughing. Britney shakes her head, “Yeah this psychopath wants me to ship the fluffy covered in ants…like I have that.” Steven picks up a phone calls their abuse department, and after a few back and forths, goes “yeah they’re going to send some up to us”. Britney still shaking her head, “Jesus…I almost feel sorry for this one”. Just as she said that the stupid pink fluffy begins to chatter, and Britney loses any empathy for the creature. The fluffy starts to dance around, “Fwuffy gonna be good soon mummah and hab babbehs and new daddeh wif sketties”. The fluffy dances around for a while chattering, and Britney decides to just get started and not wait for the ants, which will probably take a good half hour to arrive. She checks the order again to make sure she gets this complicated order right. The fluffy wiggles in Britney’s arms as she positions it on the pillowing station. Pushing the fluffy down, “Sorry girl, you’re going to be a no leggie, no see-places, no hear-places, no talkie, no fluff, fluffy”. All of this is too much for the fluffy to comprehend all at once or handle and starts ranting, “Fwuffy nee cee-pwaces for cee and weggies for wrun an pway, an fluff fo be pwetty”. The fluffy is strapped down, the five guillotine like blades aligned to the fluffy’s shoulders, thighs, and tail. She pushes the button, causing the five blades to slam down with a wet slap sound. Britney likes this part, having them watch her tease them with the button. She smiles coldly at the fluffy, “When I push this button, you will be a no leggie no tail dummy poopie fluffy”. The fluffy’s eyes widen in horror, “Fwuffy nu wan be nu weggie poopie fwuffy! Ne weggies fo wrun an pway! Ne weggies for huggies an dancie!” With the fluffy’s eyes locked on her hand over the button, she pushes it. As the fluffy starts to scream from the “worestest hurties weggies!!!”, she puts what look like a virtual reality headset with a green button on the top. She whispers in the fluffy’s ear, “Now I am going to take away your see-places because I am a monster”. The fluffy begins to squirm its legless body around, “Nu wan be nu cee-pwace dummeh fluffy nu weggie poopie fwuffy!” Britney pushes the button and a wet squish can be heard. The machine had scooped both of the fluffy’s eyes while also filling the empty eye holes with some InstantHeal. She slathers some InstantHeal on the fluffy’s stumps and tail stump as the fluffy cries out “Nu touchie fwuffy on nu weggies pwaces pwease.” The fluffy can feel the headset being taken off but it still can’t see. Then it happens and the fluffy finally works it out that its eyes were taken, “NUUUU MUNSTAH!!! NU TAKIE CEE-PWACES!!! WAN WEGGIES AN SEE PWACES!!! Gib back cee-pwaces an weggies wight noa”. This screaming made this next part easy for Britney, and she took the opportunity. She quickly slips a tube into the fluffy’s mouth which is attached to a cord. The apparatus suctions the fluffy’s tongue into it, and a blade slides across the cylinder like a cigar cutter. The fluffy lets out a raspy wheeze unable to scream and just makes a tone-deaf groan. Britney snipped the fluffy’s ears, and put the poor fluffy into a box for shipping, leaving the lid off. Finally after 45 fucking minutes, an interoffice delivery guy brings a small box to the processing room. Britney opens the box to find a few dozen fire-ants. Opening the package, one of them crawls on her hand and bites. Searing white hot pain blazes over her hand as she lets out a loud scream. Holy shit that hurt, she thought as she looked down at the big red whelp produced from the bite. She tosses the few dozen ants into the box with the fluffy, which almost instantly starts groan-screaming without its tongue. The fluffy in an inaudible groan, said something that translated to fluffy is monster fluffy now, as it “huhuhuhued”.

Steven looks back at Britney as he wraps up his fluffy pillowing, “Is it lunch time yet?” Britney laughs, “still have two hours until lunch. You wont believe the weirdo request I just got. The guy sounds like a war-criminal.” Steven laughs, “My fluffy requests have been pretty standard so far.”

A fluffy package slides into Steven’s station, as he is greeted by a dull brown foal. The foal immediately starts dancing in an attempt to be adopted. The foal waves its hooves in around, “wook am gud dancie babbeh fo ou!” Steven glances at the clipboard to see the foal’s fate and winces. He glances at the foal still sitting and waving its arms around, “dancie babbeh wuv ou bestest dancie babbeh fo ou!” Steven shakes his head, “tough break little dude”, as he glances again at the clipboard.

R&D Processing form 1264
R&D Hud Origin: MicroFluff Factory 392 Lab 8.
R&D HUD Destination: MicroFluff Factory 422 Lab 13
Instructions for Processing Technician: Remove the fluffy’s fluff and skin. Place the fluffy on an ice pack, and then use standard live animal packaging protocols.
Date: 09/12/2022 Origin
R&D Purpose: This experiment tests the lower limits of the temperatures that live fluffies can successfully be shipped without expiring. The fluffy will be shipped under the worst possible circumstance, on ice, with no fluff or skin to thermal regulate for three days. If the fluffy arrives alive, the next shipping test will attempt to push the limit to four days.

Steven takes out a special tool used to skin fluffies, and gently picks the foal up on his workbench. The foal dances around for a few seconds by wiggling its forelimbs while sitting on its butt, “Wook babbeh is dancie babbeh fo ou!”. Steven without any conversation with the fluffy holds the fluffy down and takes out what looks like an exacto-knife. This tool has a blade long enough to cut through the layers of the foals skin, but not so long as to cut muscle or organs. Steven had nicknamed the device the “shrimp peeler”. At first Steven wondered why MicroFluff even made such a device, then he got a lot of orders from customers and R&D that requested the fluffy be skinned. Picking up the still dancing foal he places it down on his workbench which will serve as a cutting-board. Steven runs the knife over the unsuspecting foal’s back, zips the blade around, and runs it up the foals belly and chest. The foal immediately starts chirping, peeping, and crying out, “Mummah!!! Sabe babbeh from munstah!!!” Worstest hurties!!!" Steven makes a few cuts around the wrists and ankles of the foal and drags the blade up the foals front and hind limbs. With the foal bleeding in a series of lines surrounding its body, the technician starts to rip large sections of fluff and skin off. After a few minutes of the foal screaming in terror, Steven has skinned the foal which now shivers on the desk. The foal starts to mutter “wan die…SCREEE!!! …WAN DIE…CHIRP!!!.. wheeze Wan…die… wet babbeh die pwease”. Steven places an ice-pack into the box and places the skinless bleeding fluffy carefully on top of it. He places a couple smaller ice-packs on the sides of the fluffy, and closes the box. The fluffy inside is in a loop thinking “wan die wan die wan die wan die wan die wan die…” as it hurts too much to move talking or screaming. The shivering cold, skinless fluffy is in agony and cold. Steven ships it and wonders how long the foal will last. He shrugs and waits for his next processing job.

Britney looks up from her desk to see a box slide onto it from the conveyor. From the sound of it there were a lot of foals in the box. Looking over the side, she sees too many foals to count easily. She glances at the form and sees 30 tier 1 foals. She shakes her head and goes “quantity over quality I suppose”, and then glances at the form. Her eyes light up with a smile, finally an easy one, she thought. These 30 foals were heading to “Mike Dundee’s Reptile Park”. They don’t feed live foals there because it would upset the park’s visitors, so they have them shipped on ice pre-killed. She looks into the box and bullies the foals, “All you babies are going forever sleepies”. The foals in horror started chattering about how they need to “wiv to gib huggiies an pway an wrun. Babbehs am fo wuv an huggies nu foreba sweepies”.

Processing form 34832
Customer: Krikey Erwin
Color: bargain bin random poopie foals
Quantity: 30
Size: small
Sex: Random
Tier: 1
Special Request: Euthanize and pack on ice

Britney opens up a sealed box with no air-holes, unlike the live shipping crates. She places a few ice packs on the floor of the crate, and begins to load the foals into it. The entire time the foals are chattering.

Babbeh am gud babbeh!
Babbeh bestest fo dancie (this one wasn’t fucking listening about forever sleepies)
Be nu mummah nu foreba sweepies pwease babbeh wuv ou!
Babbehs am for wuv an huggies
Wook babbeh bestest at singie ‘wa wa wa wa! la wa!!’ (also wasn’t fucking listening)
Babbeh nu wan be dummeh foreba sweepie poopie fwuffy

Britney places the lid on top, and opens a port on the side of the crate, and attaches a hose. With the press of a button she fills the crate with carbon monoxide, and waits 3 minutes. Then she vacuums out the CO and vacuum seals the crate on ice for shipping.

Steven sitting at his desk is awoken from a daydream as a crate slides into his work station. He glances at the form, its another R&D processing request. He rolls his eyes and looks it.

R&D Processing form 1265
R&D Hud Origin: MicroFluff Factory 392 Lab 3.
R&D HUD Destination: MicroFluff Factory 312 Lab 13
Instructions for Processing Technician: Place light-bulb (enclosed in fluffy transport box) into processing crate with fluffy with shipping. Do not secure the bulb or the fluffy for transit.
Date: 09/12/2022 Origin
Destination ETA 9/16/2022
R&D Purpose: Can fluffies endure lacerations and puncture wounds and survive shipping? This question must be answered.

Steven reads Britney the request with, “What do you make of this weird R&D request?” Britney laughs, "Some of the R&D people are abusers, they’re just messing around between different MicroFluffs with these abuse experiments. Steven shrugged, “makes sense I guess, they’re just blowing off steam.”

Steven places the fluffy and then the light bulb into the shipping crate. The fluffy doesn’t understand what is happening and starts chattering to Steven, “fwuffy wuv ou, be new daddeh? Be gud fwuffy an make gud poopies in witter-bawk! Cee babbeh am dancie babbeh!” As the baby starts to dance it kicks the light bulb and instantly slides its leg open on the broken glass. Steven shakes his head at the stupidity of the creature as he hears more broken glass shuffle in the box with the flailing fluffy. Steven bet it would bleed out within the hour, and rolled his eyes.

After what seemed like the longest morning of their lives, Britney and Steven went to lunch, shared some laughs, dark fantasies, and headed back to their desks. Steven sipped his soft-drink as a crate slides on his desk. He glances at the tag and goes “Hmm neuter…great”. The rest of the day was less eventful, than the morning, with the usual pillow fluffy orders, along with spays and neuters. They finished out the day each processing about 20 fluffies. Although they enjoyed each-others company, they loved being in peace and quiet more. Each of them got into their cars with the intention of not socializing with anyone for the rest of the day, let alone deal with any fluffies. They went home to their empty houses, and enjoyed the peace and quiet. Trying to forget about the fluffy processing tomorrow, which would depress them, they both turned on their televisions, ate, and fell asleep in front of the TV.


It probably helps if you’re slightly leaning more towards the abuser side when working at a fluffy processing place. Extra plus if you’re deaf. Heck, I bet that would be one hell of an opportunity because you can’t hear the insane blabbing of the fluffies and you get paid to do a bit of mutilation. :hmm:


Eric “Antman” Von Goebbels sounds like a delightful, whimsical fellow.


Hahha this was a good bit of fun

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This series is a treat.

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Pop in some headphones with nose cancelation and set up a pod cast playlist and you’ve got a pretty decent job


Now THIS is what fluffies are all about. Bravo my friend :metal:

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Sometime tomorrow or the next day I’ll write another chapter of Fluffy Processing.

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Some nice industrial abuse reading. :slight_smile:

Was the first colts description wrong? Or did they ship the wrong foal for the order?

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We will go with “wrong foal for the order” and not the author was a little stoned lol.

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Do these R&D folks work for the SCP Foundation? It sounds like some of the crazy stuff they would pull off.

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