[NexTech Bio-Industries parts 1 and 2 by Dildofarmer]
[NexTech Bio-Industries parts 3 and 4 by Dildofarmer]
[NexTech Bio-Industries Parts 5 and 6 by Dildofarmer]
[NexTech Bio-Industries parts 7 and 8 by Dildofarmer]
[NexTech Bio-Industries parts 9 and 10 by Dildofarmer]
[NexTech Bio-Industries parts 11 and 12 by Dildofarmer]
[NexTech Bio-Industries Parts 13, 14 and Epilogue by Dildofarmer]
NexTech Bio-Industries
7 Inoculation Day: Evening
You are Hazel. It has been a long time since the humans attacked your herd and captured you, and you still donât understand what is going on. When you were a silly filly, the older fluffies told you that humans were the worst monsters in the world and that they would num on fluffies and give them the biggest owwies ever. If you ever saw a human you were to make fastest runny leggies and quiet hidies.
There were a couple of mares in the herd who said differently - they said that humans would take fluffies home and give them a nestie and sketties and huggies, but that they would be mean to fluffies in other ways. Human daddies and mommies would yell at fluffies, put them in the sorry box and never let them have babees.
Granted, those mares were dummies - they were Worstest Mare and Nyu Worstest Mare. A monster nummed on the older one and the younger one never had any babees even though the toughies gave her bad special huggies all the time. It didnât matter in the end, though, because the Worstest Mares were just as wrong about humans as everyfluffy else.
The humans came, all right, and they gave some of the herd biggest hurties, but not you. You were full of your first tummy babees ever when they dragged you out of your nestie place. You cried because you were going to be nummies and never even meet your babees. But after a long, scary time and the biggest scaries, noisies and saddies, the humans gave you a housie, like Worstest Mare said - but unlike her story it was a horrible little boxy housie in a giant room full of crying, screaming fluffies. Then they just left you alone.
The humans brought you nummies and fresh wa-was - none of the fluffies you met there ever had tummy owwies. But they would also give hurties and forever sleepies to fluffies and yell at them. Every human was like the meanest, biggest smarty ever, not a nice daddeh who gives you num-nums. They didnât gobble up fluffies, and they also didnât stop you from having your babees, as it turned out.
You had your babees in the awful little housie, all alone without even a helper-mare to help you and give you huggies. You tried to be brave, but it felt like a giant human was giving bad squeezies to your tummy, and another one was pulling your special place apart. So you screamed and cried until your first babee slid out of you, and then the whole thing happened again. And again.
You have scaredies, angries and saddies all the time now, and are always confused. The humans take your poopies away and bring you fresh wawas and nummies all the time, but they act like they hate fluffies and have a thousand ways to give them owwies and hurties. They scared you and hurt you, but then suddenly pulled you out and gave you a bigger, nicer housie and the softest, prettiest blankie in the world. In the shelter the humans ignored you as long as you made good poopies in their poopies boxies, but this James human pulls you and the other fluffies out of your housies and gives you hurties and scaredies for no reason just about every day. The only thing you know for sure is that you want to keep your babees safe.
Maybe you can get back to the Tallest Tree and the Big Safe Place. Maybe your foals will get to run and play under the pretty blue sky and num grassies and have a herd, even though the humans gave almost every toughy the worst hurties. Maybe you can find a way to give James owwies so he leaves you alone. Itâs been so long that your leggies donât make wanâ-runnies very much anymore, and your babees are talkie babees now. Eating human nummies every day gives you the most milkies ever, and they are growing up fat and quickly. That gives you happies, but when you think that they might never eat berry-nums or see the sky-ball you have the biggest saddies.
Today James and his giant human friends gave you bad upsies and owwies, but he left your babees alone. Thatâs fine with you. You didnât try to give him owwies or sorries, either. You still have meanie owwies and booboos from a brighty-bright time ago - your face has hurties on one side and your leggies and back have owwies that make you cry sometimes. The gang of giant humans gave owwies to all three mares one at a time and left. The dummy stupidest mare next to you screamed and cried, and the quiet saddies mare in the far housie didnât.
Then they all whooshed out the door, and after a while James did too, leaving you shaking with the memory of sharp, burny owwies in your neck. You try not to cry in front of the biggest poopies meanie, but you canât stop yourself sometimes.
You rub the saddie wawas out of your eyes with a hoofie and look down at your three babees. Good babees. Maybe even the Smartyâs babees. They make good hidies when James is in the room, but when he leaves they toddle out of your nestie.
âMummah! Babee wub baww! Wub baww!â coos your brown filly as she runs up to hug the bright red ball. You gulp as you realize that you love the ball, too - it is the best, prettiest toy you have ever seen in your life, and James just threw it in your cage for no reason.
The dummy red mare in the next cage is at it again. James gives her meanie owwies when sheâs too loud, but now that heâs gone she shuffles up to the front of her housie and cries out.
âWanâ Dadeeeeh! Dadeeeeeh! Huuu huuu huuu! Eh! Eh! Huuu huuu huu!â
Her babees start crying, too. Itâs a lot of noise, but you are getting used to it. You walk back to the very back of your housie where you can see across to the wingie mare, Spring. She is laying on her side, petting her grey-blue babee while it nums milkies and gives babee-squishies to her milkies place.
âSpwing⌠wha yu say to hoomans?â
She glances up at you and then looks down again. âSpwing⌠ask hoomans pwease nu gif sickies to babees. Spwing pwomise tu be bestest fwuffy evew.â
âWhy hoomans gif sickies to babees?â you ask. It sounds like dummy mare talk - herd fluffies got sickies sometimes, but how would a human make it happen? And why?
âNu know. Dat wha Bweeding Yunit. Hoomans gif fwuffies âspewiment. Fwuffies come back wif sickies anâ owwies. Offew times nu see fwuffies nu moaw. Now Spwing anâ Muffin anâ Hazel am âspewiment fwuffies.â
You stare at her, trying to figure out what she means. Fluffies were taken away a lot at the Shewta, too - you learned about the âhuuhuu room,â and you remember some fluffies coming back from it with booboos and sickies. But youâre not in the Shewta anymore. Are you? The whole thing makes your head spin.
Muffin turns around when she hears her name. Her dark red face is wet with tears, and she makes loud saddies. âHuuu, huuuu, Muffin wanâ daddeh! Wanâ daddeh! Nu wike stupit dummeh pwace! HATE STUPIT PWACE!â she howls.
The sudden noise startles your foals, who stop playing with the ball and stare at the pudgy red mare through the wires. One of them starts crying, followed by the other two. You have angries and walk over between your foals and the red mare. You turn and look down at the crying dummy mummah.
âNu gif saddies tu babees! Yu yeww at babees, make cwy! Dummeh!â You turn your back on her and face your three babees - you can see the dark brown one is trying to stop making huuhuus, pinching her little foal mouth shut and trying to stand tall. Sheâs a good babee. The two wingie babees are sitting on their bum-bums and reaching up to you for huggies and uppsies. Instead, you give them both a gentle bop on the nosie and make mummah frownies at them.
âBabees nu cwy. Babees nu haf owwies, nu haf scawedies. Be bwave wike big sissy.â
When you tap their noses, their eyes go from pinchy-shut-huuhuus to big wide scaredies, but you know they are listening. Choking back sobs, they look at their big brown earthie sissy, who makes smilies at them. That helps them settle down and only make bitty babees-sniffies. Only then do you give them huggies and coo mummah-happies at them. This is how your mummah and the other mares in the herd taught the bestest babees. Fluffies who canât stop crying get nummed by monsters.
The door rocks open and the biggest meanie of them all walks back into the room, tilting his head back and throwing some nummies in his mouth from a crinkly bag. All the warmies and happies in the room seem to slip away. By the time you glance down, your babees are already waddling and pop-hopping to the nestie to make quiet hidies. Good babees. James sits down with his little boxies and toys.
âMistew?â says Muffin from the next cage. âMisteeeww? Whewwe Daddeh?â
James ignores the dummeh mare and starts playing with his flat boxie toys. A long time goes by, and you relax a little and walk to the back of your housie to let your babees num milkies from your milkies places.
Before too long, he gets up again and walks over to the hutches and glares down at you and the other mares. He always does that before hurties-and-scaredies time. You feel your heart start hoof-hoofing louder in your chestie. Youâre not going to let James hurt your babees or give them sickies.
âOkay,â he announces after a while. âItâs bath time. Christ.â Even his words are mean. âOkay, Stupid,â he says, unsnapping the front of Muffinâs housie, âGo take a shit and have a piss.â
The dummy dark red mare fidgets a little and backs up deeper into her housie and says âMuh⌠nu haff make poopies.â This gives James angries.
âYou just never want to do things the easy way, huh?â he snarls. The dummyâs eyes have big saddies as he reaches in and grabs her meanie neckie thing, then they squeeze shut as he drags her out of her housie. Her huuhuus are cut off when he drags her to the edge of the meanie deep sink and folds her half over, giving her tum-tum and milkie places bad squishies. Then he jams his fingers into her tummy place and she gags.
You must have looked like that when James did his meanie tummy-pokies trick to you. She opens her mouth and sticks her pink licky-tongue out, and then closes her peepers and shakes her head to side to side, like she wants wakies from a scary nighty-dreamy-story. Then a dummy sickies noise comes out of her and she makes poopies and wee-wees into the sink. Soon it will be your turn - you will be folded over and given owwies just like that.
James lets Muffin go, and she squirms and makes huffies as she tries to turn over. Your own breathy-places burn in sympathy. Crying and making gaspy huuhuus, she crawls away a little like a scared babees while James yanks the wawas-spitty thingy down and blasts meanie, scary wawas into the sink. When he notices that Muffin is trying to make runny-leggies away, he just laughs.
âWhere are you going to go, Stupid? Going to jump off the table?â He turns away and fiddles with the wawas-thing some more. It starts making different noisies, and you hear deep splashy sounds. The red mare looks over the edge of the shiny table, and then collapses and puts her hoofies in her peepers and cries.
It only takes James two giant steps to grab her and drop her in the deep wawas place. You hear a splashy noise.
âWHEEEP! WHEEEEEEEEP! WHEEE-GBBPT!â screams Muffin.
âJesus! Shut the fuck up!â Snarls the huge human, stooped over with both hands down out of sight. His right arm moves like a giant tree-branchie, and you hear a wet slapping noise. Then another. Then his left arm jerks and you hear a dull clunking noise. Muffin makes a strangled cry of pain.
âNeghhh! Negggh! Sowwggh! Sowwy! SOWWY, PWEASE! NU WIKE!â she howls
You think Muffin is a dummy, but you donât want to watch her get the biggest owwies from James. Still, you canât turn your peepers away from the sight until you catch something moving in the corner of your eye. Itâs Spring - she has walked to the back of her housie, and is squatted down to make poopies. She looks at you, too.
âWh⌠wha James du? Why gif meanie wawas?â
âIs baff. Hoomans take poopies anâ diwties away wif wawas.â
âWawas⌠wawas bad foâ fwuffyâŚâ you say lamely, looking down at your own brown and white fluff. In the Shewta, the humans gave you meanie wawas right after you had your babees. It was scary, but quick, no worse than being caught outies in the sky-wawas. And Muffins lets her dummy babees make bad poopies everywhere, so she usually didnât smell pretty. You look back at James and Muffin. He has produced a little bottle the color of berry-nums and is playing with it. Then he reaches back down and starts giving the crying mare more owwies, or whatever heâs doing. You grit your teeth.
The end of the bath is the scariest. James smacks something, and suddenly itâs like a monster is gurgling and numming in the bottom of the deep place. Muffin seems to think so, too, because she starts making out-of-breathies scaredy-screams, and you hear a few head-owwies noisies and thumpy-thumps of her running into the walls of the dark, cold sinky-place. The human responds by pulling down the wawas-thingy and giving her a long blast of meanie wawas. Only when he stops can you hear the burgundy mare making babees-chirps. James whips out a big blankie and holds it up over the sinky place and starts yelling at Muffin.
âOk, Stupid. Shake the water out.â Muffin only chirps. âHey! Shake, Stupid! Yo!â he barks, making bigger angries. After a few seconds, he rolls his eyes. âFine, fuck it.â He pulls Muffin up by her neckie-place and gives her meanie shaky-shakies, then sets her down and roughly bats and shoves her around with his blankie, like a meanie colt being too rough with another babee. Sheâs still sitting in a puddle when he tosses his meanie blankie aside.
The red mare makes a loud âHuuuuuu!â noise and stumbles to her hoofies. James reaches for her, but he is caught short when the burgundy mare plants her leggies and makes the biggest wawas-go-âway shakie-shakies ever. James yells at her to stop, but it is no use. Wawa goes everywhere with a thousand wet spitty splatty noises.
âYOU FUCKINâ BITCH!â roars James, louder than youâve ever heard him make angry yells. Muffinâs eyes go wider than the sky, and she tries to back up too quickly and falls down. James whips away, wiping his mouthie and peepers, then reaches out grabs Muffin with a huge handful of her blue-purple tummy fluff. You see her scrunch up her eyes and nose and make chirpies in pain. You expect her tummy fluff to rip out in his grasp, but it doesnât.
âWHEEP! WHEEEP! Sowwy! SOWWY! NU HUWTIES!â gibbers Muffin.
âI TOLD you⌠to shake in the FUCKING SINK!â he hollers. Keeping one hand on Muffinâs neck, He leans over and makes some more wawas, and you see him snatch up his red bottle of goo. He is pressing Muffin down very hard, and she canât put her back hoofies down firmly because her milky places are bulging out. She can hardly open her mouthie, either. You see her crying, and then she makes scaredy whinnies a split second before James slaps her in the peepers with a handful of bubbly wawas.
The big human throws her back into her housie. Muffin falls over and then brings her front hoofies to her eyes and starts rubbing them.
âNuh⌠Nuh! Nuuhhh! Buwnies! Buwnies! NU WIKE! BUWNIES! HEWWWP! SOWWWYYYY! PWEASE STAWP BUWNIES!â she starts screaming, rolling around and digging at her peepers with her front hoofies. She tosses her head and scrabbles her leggies senselessly until she is crammed into the back corner of her nestie, making such bad shaky-shakies that the cage is rattling. She screams about the burnies in her eyesies, then she chirps, and then you think she is giving biteys to her leggies and the cage bars.
You have lost track of the towering human. He is breathing a little fast and his eyes are still full of angries. He reappears at the front of Muffinâs cage and dumps her wet foals on the floor. A big step sideways puts him at the front of Springâs cage. The saddies mare is sitting on her tailie in the front, with her ears flat and her sniffer pointed down. Her babees are hiding behind her, only the cloudy blue earthie-colt peeping over.
Just the sight of her seems to calm James down. He unsnaps the front of her housie.
âOkay, youâre going to be a good girl, right?â he says.
âGud fwuffy. Spwing make good poopies anâ weewees. Weady foâ baff. Nu woudies.â
âThank fucking God.â sighs the huge human, suddenly seeming like a tired stallion-daddeh.
Spring gets a very different bath from Muffin. She doesnât scream. James doesnât hit her. You canât see her in the bottom of the deepy-place, but you donât hear any splashies or clunky-noisies. While sheâs gone, her three foals watch from a little fluffpile, and when her green filly-babee starts chirping and crying, the other two give it huggies and make it have happies again.
Next door, Muffinâs two soggy, cold babees try to crawl all the way across the housie, but they have to stop to chirp, huuhuu and hug each other. To a pair of babees, it must seem like crawling across the whole Biggest Grassy Place while meanie sky-wawas fall on them. The red one tries to give babees-lickies to the orange one, but it falls over because it is making have-coldies shakies itself. When the orange one finally clambers up to its mummahâs rear hoofie, Muffin moans and kicks it in the tum-tum without even looking. Then she kicks at the air a few times, and her poopie place makes noises but nothing comes out. Muffin doesnât take her hoofies away from her eyesies.
James holds his bathie-blankie up over Spring and says âOk, shake.â It makes a really funny noisie when a fluffy does wawas-go-âway shaky-shakies in the sink, but it doesnât spray everywhere. For some reason, it makes you have angries when James is right about something. It even makes you have angries when Spring is too nice to him and does what he says.
âNice mistew?â Comes Springâs soft voice.
âHuh?â says James.
âCan hewp wif babees? Hewp howd babees foâ baffie-time? Hewp babees nu make woudies?â
âOh! Uh, yeah. Okay.â says James, sounding sort of happy like a dummy colt.
And sure enough, Spring gets to sit on the big shiny-place and hold her babees while James gives them a âbaffieâ one at a time. They still chirp and cry, and he swears at them when they make scaredy poopies. And you can see that it gives Spring saddies to watch the human be meany to her babees, but she cuddles her scared babees even closer and doesnât say anything.
You sniff your good babees. They smell so good it gives you heart-owwies. They donât have any poopies in their fluff - you give them mummah-lickies like a good mummah. Youâre not Muffin. But youâre not Spring. Youâre not going to help James hurt and scare your babees just because you got scaredy-poopies in your tail. But you donât have to get the biggest hurties and burnies and coldies like dummy Muffin, until you canât even help your babees.
It makes your head spin. Is this what itâs like to be a smarty?
Your heartie-fluffy is galloping when James opens the front of your housie, but you try to sit still between him and your good, quiet babees.
âYour turn, Ugly. What do you say? You want to take it easy or end up like your god damned neighbor?â
âFwuffy make gud poopies anâ weewees. Weady foâ baff.â
âIs that a fact?â James cocks his head at you like a little pointy-friend-babees who is about to ask where babees come from.
âYus. Wiww be gud fwuffy, buh⌠babees nu neeâ baff.â You try not to shudder as James straightens up and his brow creases a little.
âIs that a fact?â he says again, but this time it gives you big scaredies.
âYus. Hazel be gud fwuffy, nu woudies, buh pwease wet babees⌠weave babees⌠nu baffies. Pwease. Babees nu haf poopies. Mummah wickies. Cwean babees. Pwease.â You think very hard, and force your ears to go flat, and you take your peepers off the giant human and point them at the floor. Just like Spring does.
âWell, OK, fuck it.â he says, in his nu-cawe voice. You try not to show it, but you feel like you just took the biggest breathie ever, and you barely even notice when James gives you uppsies to the sink.
Your bathie might be the fastest one of them all. Itâs scary in the deep, dark well, and it makes you think of the last time James gave you owwies here. You try to do what Spring does, and stare straight ahead while James splashes you with wa-was and you feel it sliding down your sides and tummy and making you heavy. You look at the shimmery-dancie surface of the wawa, and it reminds you of the little stream that ran down the side of the Grassy Place. As long as you made careful-steppies, the wawas wouldnât hurt you. After a second, you think that you are having a daydream in your sniffer about the pretty flower-nums that grew at the edge of the forest, but it turns out that James is rubbing some smell-pretty stuff into your fluff. It tingles and gives you such happies that you giggle.
When James plunks you down on the cold table, you feel burny-face ashamed because you started to like the bath, and because you see that you have been a no-smell-pretty fluffy your entire life. Your white tummy-places are whiter than they have ever been, and even your brown mane is all pretty and sparkly and smells pretty. It makes you proud and makes you want to give yourself owwies at the same time.
Suddenly, you hear your greenie wingie babee chirp. Dummy! You were staring at your tailie while James was walking over to your housie! He is getting your babees!
âNu! NU!â you say, with the loudest voice you can. You trot along the table edge and your heart-fluffy starts galloping and galloping harder and harder. You canât see your babees. James turns around with a meanie-teasie face on. Now your blue wingie babee is chirping, too.
âYou did pretty good today, Ugly,â says James âbut you forgot who was in charge around here. Your little shits take a bath when I say they do.â
âNu! Nu take babees! Weave babees awone! Hazel waâ gud fwuffy!â You are trying to move far enough down the table to see into your housie, but James is in the way and you donât want to get too close to him. You feel saddie wawas spring up in your eyes. Your babees are so far away! âYu teww Hazel yu weave babees awone!â
âYeah? Well, I donât need your permission to do my job, shitrat. So why donât you just shut up and try not to get beaten today?â
âYu meanie anâ teww wies! Weave babees awone!â
âOr what, Ugly? Huh? What are you going to do if I just reach in a-â
The second James turns away, you lift up your tail and hunch over. The noise your not-pretties make on the tabletop spins James back around to face you. His mouth is open, and his eyes are big like heâs surprised. You whirl around and trample through your poopies, splattering them around on the table and up onto your tummy and leggie-fluff.
âYou little mother FUCKER!â snarls James. He seems too surprised to make the biggest yelling angries at you like he did to Muffin. Instead, he steps forward, but you make runny leggies across the table and down the other side. It makes an even bigger mess.
âGif yu poopies! Poopies wiar dummeh!â you snap at James. âYu nu smawty! Hazew see yu haffaâ du what offa hoomans say!â
âThe fuck you just say?â He is getting closer, and you donât want to make runny leggies close to the sink. You start to feel sniffies, but you donât want to let your saddies and scaredies out around him.
âOffa hoomans teww yu whaâ du! Yu nu big smawty! Yu nu âin chawge!â Dummeh cowt hooman!â
You canât help but make a scaredy-whinny and huffies as you run out of table, and you donât want to peep over the edge again. James lunges over at the narrowest point and lashes out with his arm - itâs like heâs the fastest thing ever with the longest arm and the strongest pinchy hurties at the end. You hesitate to give him owwie biteys, and in that second he grabs a big handful of your fluff and tummy and jerks you skidding across the table.
âWheep! Wheeeep!â
âThere we go! You got one reason I shouldnât break your fucking neck?â he snarls, gripping you painfully by the scruff and shaking you.
âYu nu kiww fwuffies! Yu geâ in twubbew wif smawty man! Yu WIAR!â you spit back at him.
âFucking! Bitch! Shitrat!â he slaps you across the snoutie with each word, and when you get your hoofie up to try to protect yourself, he just slaps it into your cheekie. The world starts making sickies-spinnies, and you only catch crazily swinging glimpses of Jamesâ hand before it smashes into your head a few more times, and then he starts giving you the worst hitties in the tummy. He hits you in the tummy so hard you make sickies wawa from your mouthie right onto his fist. Your head rolls around uselessly, and you start crying even before he shoves you over the edge of the sinky-place and you hit bottom on your bum-bum and back.
You roll around, trying to find a way to lay that doesnât give you owwies. Just like last time, you hear James grab his wawas-stick and start throwing it all over the table. When the water and poopies start falling down on your head, you are so scared that you pop up to your feet and scream even though it hurts. Your leggies make the fastest runnies without asking you, and you smash into the metal wall. It goes on and on, and you feel exhausted but every time more bad wa-was fall on you, your mouthie screams and your leggies try to make runnies, even if you have fallen over or given your snoutie big owwies.
Then you notice something funny. The wawas were the coldest thing ever when they started falling on you, but now they are warming up. Soon they are warmer than the bathie -wawas. By the time James appears overhead, the splashes of wawas are uncomfortably warm, making you toddle and dance so your hoofies donât get burnies.
âHuu! Huu! Buwnies! BUWNIES!â you cry.
Then James grabs your tailie and yanks it up sharply, and you cry out in pain as the hottest burny wawas ever blast across your poopie place, special place and milkie places. It sears and scalds the soft skin, and then dribbles down like a trail of fire to burn your snoutie and try to climb up your nosie when you breathe. The steamy, burny wawas starts to fill up the sink, getting closer and closer to your breathie-places. You know that if your face gets into the wawas, you will die.
âWHEEP! WHEEEEP! WHEEEKkk-â you accidentally make bad splashies and burning wawas shoots up your nose. At the same time, James sprays your tummy and milkie places with the hottest wawas in the world, and you think you can feel your skin coming off. You try to scream again, but only a spitty gargling noise comes out. Your leggies beat themselves against the metal and splash in the scalding wawas until they canât move anymore and just hang limply.
âYeah, there you go, little shit. How does that feel? Iâm not a smarty, huh? Well, do you feel smart now?â James smashes your face down hard into the water until your snoutie squishes against the bottom. When you come back up, your body starts jerking around all by itself and your mind starts to go dark. Your face has burnies. Your eyelids, belly and milkie places have burnies. Everything is burnies. You think you make sickies-wawa again, but you arenât sure. You turn into a tiny, hurt, chirpy babee, watching yourself make dummy saddies from a long way away.
You still canât open your eyes when James grabs your meanie neckie-thing and lifts you up. The feeling of the little strap choking off your windpipe is almost comforting to the little scared babee that you have become. He holds you there with your tailie in one hand and your neckie thing in the other, inches above the steaming wa-was, and waits for you to catch your breath.
âNow, whoâs a bad fluffy?â
âGhhhhkkk⌠bah! Bad!â you cough, âAm bah⌠baâ fwuffy!â
âWho?â James shakes you, making your backie-bones creak against each other.
âK-k-Hazew! Hazew bad fwuhh!â
âAnd who is the fucking Smarty around here?â he asks in a meanie-teasey voice
âGhhh⌠Jameh! Jameff! James smawty!â you cry.
âAnd whose babies am I going to fucking kill as soon as this experiment is over?â he snarls. You can see it, in your head - the day that the smarty humans get whatever they want and James gives your babees owwies until they die. It feels like your heart-fluffy is taking forever sleepies.
âNnnuuu! Nuuuu! Pweeeaase!â But the human just laughs. You swing through the air and in seconds you are thrown down onto the bottom-blankie in your cage.
All you can do it lay there and gurgle while the bottom-blankie chafes your burned skin. You hear James slap the brighty-gu-âway place as he leaves. After a little bit, you feel a tiny nosie give you babees-nuzzles on the snoutie, and all of a sudden it feels like you are going to choke again. You painfully open one of your peepers, but all you can make out in the dim nighty-night glow is your three babees, crying, working together to pull your blankie over and cover you with it.
NexTech Bio-Industries
8 Exercise Day
The flesh from the base of Hazelâs tail to her lower belly flushed an angry red that the mare could distinguish even in the dim glow of the LEDs and emergency lights. It was so raw that the first time her foals tried to nurse, she whimpered and kicked them away. They seemed to understand somehow, but couldnât restrain themselves from trying to suckle and rhythmically squish their hooves into her teats. In between, they tried licking her scored skin with their tiny pink tongues and hugging her, but in the end she just had to grit her teeth and cry.
Muffin didnât fare much better. The racket from Hazelâs fistfight with James had driven her back into a state of panic, and she didnât move from the rear of her hutch until he left. She crawled to her nest and only allowed her foals to approach after she calmed down and realized it was the only comfort that was coming. Her eyes were cloudy from the soap.
Spring couldnât get to sleep easily, either. She tried to talk to her neighbors, but Muffin was cocooned in her blankie and Hazel seemed too far away in the darkness. She couldnât express the guilt she felt at being unharmed and safe, curled up happily with her cooing, snoring, chubby little foals.
Time passed slowly during the darkness hours, but when James banged back in the door and flicked the lights on, it seemed like too short a reprieve to the three mares. The fluffies couldnât have known, but the lab tech had also suffered a restless night. In truth, he was embarrassed at his lack of control - over the situation and over himself - but this manifested as further irritation and anger. So even though he didnât so much as glance at his charges, he was fuming a little as he slumped down and booted up the laptop. Nobody was happy in the lab that morning.
The fluffies stirred and yawned widely, squeezing their big, soft eyes and sticking out their bright pink tongues. Muffin and Hazel had adopted Springâs habit of corralling their broods over the litter box first thing in the morning. Spring did it with her usual calm, but Muffin was clumsy and distracted. Her big green eyes stared fearfully at James and then swiveled back when she noticed a foal making a break for it. She swatted it back into the corner.
âNu! Babees make good poopies! Nu get mummah in twubbew!â she hissed.
James stood up and stretched.
âBetter get started,â he murmured to himself. He dug into his backpack and pulled out an old nylon cat collar decorated with a silver jingle bell. âThe hell⌠did I see those pliers?â He began searching the cabinets and drawers along the back wall, until: âAh-ha!â and held up a pair of needle-nose pliers. Then he crossed the room and opened the front of Springâs cage.
âOkay,â he said in a firm voice, âDoctor Hopkins wants you fluffs to get some exercise. I mean, run around and spend some energy. So Iâm going to let you out of your cages. I donât want to have to babysit you, so Iâm going to snap this bell on your collar. You run around and make it ring. You stop running, itâll go quiet and Iâll want to know why. Get it?â He shook the bell in front of the hutches.
Spring had started shaking in fear while James was talking. She could barely follow what he was saying. To her anxious mind, every new game or plan James came up with could be the thing that finally brought the curtains down on her and her foals.
âNice mistew⌠wanâ⌠wanâ fwuffies tu wun? Make wunny weggies?â she asked quietly, baffled.
âYeah, you got it.â He reached in, angling to pick her up by her scruff, but to his surprise the powder-purple pegasus scooted backwards and bleated in fear.
âNu! NU! Pwease!â she whinnied.
âThe fuck?â James pulled his hand back and cocked his head. He didnât expect trouble from Spring.
âHahh⌠hahhâ she huffed. âHafâ tu make poopies anâ weewees. P-p-pwease. Sowwy.â
âOh, yeah.â He chuckled and slapped his thigh. âGood idea.â
Squatting over the litter box, Spring looked sadly down at her foals as they hugged each other on the blanket. âMummah make good poopies!â said the sandy-colored unicorn colt. It was the most complicated sentence he had managed to string together so far, and Spring felt a rush of pride for her clever little âpointy-friendâ offspring.
James clipped the cat bell onto the fluffyâs collar and plunked her down on the floor. It was chilly, and Springâs deep blue mane and tail flopped back and forth as she goggled at her surroundings. The only other time she could remember being on the floor was during the last days in the Breeding Unit, and she tried not to think of that outside her nightmares. She could see the crusty underside of her own hutch and the great shining table, and the expanse of linoleum tile stretching out in all directions.
âOkay, get to jogging. You keep that bell ringing, soldier.â James pressed. Spring jumped half out of her skin.
âWh⌠whewe fwuffy gu?â
âI donât care. Go around the room.â James stretched his foot out and gave the little fluff a gentle poke on the rump, and was surprised when she chirped and fell over, raising all four hooves and bringing her dark blue tail up over her belly. âWhoa! Whoa! Okay, youâre fine. I just want you to run around.â
âO-oh-otay. Otay. Fwuffy wun. Gud fwuffy. Sowwy.â Spring clambered to her hooves and chugged a few feet away from James. Sure enough, when the fluffy shifted into her speciesâ awkward, waddling high gear, the bell jingled at her neck. She stopped, dazed by the sound, and then moaned and picked up speed again.
By the start of her second lap, she was puffing a little. The anxious lavender mare wasnât accustomed to exercise, and she had never heard of fluffies being made to run laps. As she chugged around the table, she saw that James was parked at his laptop again and wasnât even watching her. Was he waiting for a chance to hurt her foals? Where were her foals? The fluffy couldnât keep pace and fret at the same time, so she slowed down without even realizing it.
The dull chiming of the cat bell stopped, and Jamesâ head turned towards her. Spring was startled and frantically sped up again, this time gulping air and blinking as hot tears crept up into her eyes. By her third lap, the little biopetâs stride was falling to pieces. Her legs burned, her undersized lungs were going at full blast, and her mindâs eye was focused on what would happen when she finally ran out of energy and collapsed. James would jab them in the neck and spray them with water. James would pluck out her foalâs eyes. James would stick tubes into her foalâs bellies. The bell kept ringing, even though it seemed like the fluffy pony mare was bobbling left and right as much as she was able to move forward.
She was on the home stretch of lap four when she puked. Her vision had gradually filled with throbbing, spinning lightning, and she had been pulling up bile with every heave. The little biopet managed to more-or-less vomit on her front hooves and wipe out spread-eagled. Moaning in fear, she tried to clamber back up, but her burning, quivering legs wouldnât obey. The bell did its job, however - James immediately looked up from his work when the jingle-jangle ceased.
âYou all done? Oh, what the fuck?â he asked, surprised to find the fluffy desperately trying to crawl at the end of a greenish-brown smear. Spring started to panic as soon as James lurched into her sight.
âHuuu! >KAFF< Suh⌠muh⌠sowweh! Sowwy!â she burbled, trying to do enough of a push-up to separate her gooey underside from the tile.
âJesus! Okay, stop. Stop! Calm down! Christ, you little things - Ugh!â snarled James. He sounded angry, but he was startled and concerned - he hadnât expected the mare to run until she collapsed, and she looked so pitiful sitting there wheezing and still trying to get it together. He knelt swiftly down and scooped her up, one hand knotted in her back fluff and the other on her collar to avoid the greenish-brown slime.
âNuh! Nuh! Pweeeh! CHIRP!â
âCalm down! Iâm not going to hurt you. Okay, just sit still.â
Springâs eyes, throat, and blood were burning, and she couldnât seem to raise her legs up, so once James plopped her down in the sink, she only slumped to her side and tried to look up into his eyes. The fluffy could only perceive a giant, looming shadow, but the manâs face was full of concern - in this unguarded moment, he was sincerely worried about the tame, compliant little critter.
âPweehh⌠nu huwt babeesâŚâ she moaned. âSpwing make muh wunny weggies⌠huu, sowwehhhâŚâ
âAll right, you did fine. I just want to wash you off and you can go back to your hutch. Everythingâs cool. Back to your hutch, okay?â
At that announcement, the mare broke down sobbing in relief, and she kept crying as James gave her a quick rinse-out with the sprayer hose and gently fluffed her dry. Being reunited with her foals so quickly and easily was like a dream come true, more so when they all cheered and waddled forward to embrace her.
âWuh - wu- wub babees⌠wub babees⌠huuu, huuu,â she moaned.
âBabees wub mummah! Gif huggies mummah!â piped the little tan unicorn colt.
âOkay, that didnât go exactly right,â thought James out loud. He looked doubtfully at the little cat bell and then at Muffin. That burgundy mare was standing in the front of her cage, mouth open as she watched the end of Springâs unhappy marathon, and suddenly found herself being scowled at by the lab tech. It made her shiver.
âHow about you? Can you run around a room without killing yourself?â
âM-m-muffin nu wanâ wunny game, can haf huggies?â mumbled the burgundy mare.
âJesus! Thatâs what I get for asking!â He irritably opened the front of her cage and, as usual, snagged her a split second after it occurred to her to try backing up. Muffin gave up and went slack as she was folded in half at the sink and subjected to Jamesâ pressure-point treatment again. After she had spasmed and ejected waste into the sink, the man clipped the catbell to her collar and plopped her on the floor. Instead of peeling out, she nosedived and wrapped her hooves around her head.
âBuuu, huuu huuu! Nu huwties! Nu wike huwties!â she moaned, muffled by her own leg fluff.
With all the grace of a grouchy bouncer, James snatched up the yardstick and jabbed Muffin on the haunch a couple of times.
âGet moving!â he snapped. The trembling mare slowly pressed herself up from the tile, but James ran out of patience and poked the end of the stick between the fluffyâs neck and collar.
âWheep! Wheeeep!â sounded Muffin as James torqued the stick, dragging her into a spastic waddle-slide. She chugged forward with her eyes squeezed shut and the stick slipped free of her collar. For the next few minutes, the bell chattered and jingled in time with her steady bleating: âMuhh! Muhhh⌠huuuuâŚ!â Muffinâs first wind ran out quickly, and she hobbled her way to the middle of the room to look up at James with big, pouting eyes.
âHuuu, haf weggie huwties! Pwease nu moaw bad wunnies!â
The exasperated lab tech cursed and snatched up the yardstick.
âRun, you fat bitch!â he barked, swatting Muffin on the rump two times. Her tail lifted up and a brief farting noise rang out, accompanied by only a few specks of shit. She chugged clumsily off again, making a series of panting moans, but she couldnât make it another two laps. The exhausted mare fell into a heap and started heaving and sobbing.
âNuuu, huu huu huu! Hahh, hahh! Fwuffy sowwy! Hahh, hahh! Nu huwties!â
âOkay, fuck it. Youâre done. Fat cow. No sense in having you puke too.â
Muffin was hoisted back into her hutch without further ado. She immediately shuffled over to her water bottle and began drinking with gusto between explosive, heaving breaths and choked sobs. Her foals toddled about in her wake, peeping for attention, but they had to wait until she had slaked her thirst and flopped over on her blanket.
In the meantime, James had switched his focus to Hazel. He was back to a stressed, angry state of mind, much the same way the piebald mareâs bruises and bumps had begun to knot up. Hazel fidgeted and looked down just a little, but her mind was churning frantically. Her three foals were in the nest, with the brave brown earthie filly hugging her two pegasi protectively and keeping silent.
James decided to play it silent also and popped the latches on the front of her cage. He tensed, ready for action when she scooted backwards, but then he blinked in surprise when she squatted and relieved herself.
âMmmgeh⌠Hazel make good poopies. Nu wanâ huwties.â she said as she waddled forwards.
âGood.â James growled. He grabbed her a bit roughly and snapped the catbell to her collar, then dropped her from a little high up. She took this treatment with only a pained squeak on impact. The lab tech folded his arms and scowled down at her Fozzie-bear-brown rump and tail. The fluffy was obviously sore, and at her limping gait the little bell only gave out a sad clank every few seconds. She clumped on out to the edge of the room and turned to port.
James glared at her for a little, almost wishing she would start a fight, but her pace and the slow rhythm of the bell bored him quickly. Instead, he decided to mop up the smear of semi-digested kibble that Spring had thrown up. He checked on Hazelâs progress again before filling a bucket up with hot water.
The patchy mare was breathing steadily, concentrating on making herself appear lamer and more injured than she really was. An outdoor creature, she had a thousand times more experience running around than Muffin or Spring, and at this pace she could lap the room many times before growing tired. Her soft gemstone eyes focused on one thing over and overeep her tufted ears from perking up every: the door that led out of the lab, and she couldnât k time she got close to it.
It was an overbuilt white goliath with a metal plate halfway up where carts were rammed into it on a regular basis. One edge was a set of double hinges, allowing it to swing either direction - not that this was clear to Hazel . Opposite was a big black rubber flap. On her first pass, Hazel saw that the rubber edge wasnât tightly sealed - there was a bright shining gap half her width, and when she walked past it, she felt a chilly breeze that smelled fresher than the air in the lab.
By her second lap, James had finished with the mop and was back at his laptop, watching Metalocalypse while he paged through a textbook. Hazel recognized the sounds coming from the speakers as something James would sit and stare at for long, long stretches at a time. He seemed totally absorbed.
On lap three, Hazel stopped in front of the door, as she had discovered that she could reach up with a front hoof and swat the bell, making an identical ringing noise standing still. She crept up to the strip of rubber and the glowing, fresh-breathing gap that lead to the outside world. The rubber, as it turned out, was very springy and Hazel could shove it out of the way just enough - perhaps - to squeeze through.
She spent the next lap fretting. If she slipped out the door, she would get in trouble - James would beat her again. That was hard, but she was convinced that he wouldnât kill her or her babies - the Smarty Humans wanted something, and they didnât have it yet. And if Spring was right, the fluffies might not live through it anyway if they stayed put.
Hazel wasnât as afraid of a beating as she was of being trapped forever. And the breeze from the door smelled so sweet - not like the fresh air of her youth, but close. It was enough to make the decision. So, with a final, regretful look at the hutches the piebald earthie mare pushed through.
It was searingly bright in the hallway due to a pair of broad rectangular windows facing a courtyard. The fluffy moaned to herself as her big, soulful eyes adjusted, and gradually she realized she could see the upper limbs of a shrubby ficus tree through the glass. It was the first growing green thing she had seen since her capture, and she had to stifle an impulse to run back through the door and tell her foals about it.
From the wooly biopetâs perspective, the hallway looked a lot like the lab: Off-white walls, pale linoleum tile, grey rubber bottom molding and fluorescent lights overhead. But it was narrow, with only blind corners in either direction. And it was quiet, and it smelled of sharp chemicals instead of fluffy ponies.
Muttering to herself in fear, Hazel decided to try around the corner for a way to the little tree and the bright sunshine. Preoccupied, she had long since gotten used to the chime of the bell around her neck, but it was still a peculiar noise to other nearby humans.
So Hazel shuffled around the bend and was confronted with another long, bewildering hallway. This one was lined on the left with ordinary wooden doors decorated with mailboxes, newspaper clips and nameplates. She had hesitantly waddled past the first door when a man in a lab coat opened the second to see what was making the strange ringing sound. To the fluffy pony, it was like a limb of the sky was torn open and replaced with a towering, threatening figure. She froze, too shocked to move, then started shaking in such acute fear that her bladder cut loose, leaking urine onto her tucked tail and haunches.
âWhat on EarthâŚ?â said Doctor Frank frowning down at the brown-and-white mare.
âMmmuuuhhh⌠muh⌠pweaseâŚâ mumbled Hazel, shaking like a leaf in a stiff breeze. Running seemed useless - every human she had ever met was quicker and stronger than ten fluffies. âYuh⌠yu Smawty Hooman? Pwease nu huwties!â
âErm, there, there, no need to be afraid, erm, little girl.â harrumphed the doctor. âHow did you get out here by yourself? Arenât you - arenât you one of Dr. Hopkinsâ subjects? The inoculation study?â
âF-f-fwuffy jusâ wan gu back⌠wanâ gu back to Safe Pwace⌠pweaseâŚâ The humanâs easygoing manner calmed the trembling mare, but instead of making her more docile, she started thinking about bolting. She tried to back away from the human, but her rump scraped the wall. âMuuhh! Pwease, James gif huwties, gif owwies tu babees! Teww fwuffy he wiww gif foweva sweepies!â
âOkay, hang on! Letâs not be scared, there. I can take you back.â Dr. Frank had to breathe in and groan to bend over far enough to lay hands on the piebald little mare. He may have seemed stiff and slow to another human, but when Hazel saw the breadth of his arms as he bent over, she gave up all notions of flight.
âP-p-pwease!â she bleated, âNu wanâ owwies! Nu moaw owwieeeeeees!â she keened and shut her eyes as Frank awkwardly wrapped his hands around her ribcage. When her hooves lost contact with the floor, she started pedaling them helplessly in midair, and her guts tightened up with fear so sharply that a few blobs of runny shit fell out of her hindquarters and splattered on the floor and wall.
âAch, for the love of Pete - okay, hold still! Stop squirming!â The Doctor was carrying her away from his body as if she was a pot of boiling soup. He rounded the corner to the sunny hallway in front of the lab, where he was met by a frazzled, panicky-looking James. Hazel moaned at the top of her lungs.
âGod dammit!â barked James, âI canât believe she got out here!â
âYes! Well! She was making quite a break for it! Perhaps you couldâŚ?â grouched Dr. Frank, handing the fluffy off. James was startled for a second, and then clapped his hands on Hazel. She let out a sharp chirp and thrashed, partly because she was terrified to be grabbed by James again and partly because if she got free, she faced a dizzying, terrifying four-foot drop to the floor. Dr. Frank cleared his throat in a gruff manner, letting James know that the conversation wasnât over.
The lab tech slammed the fluffy pony against the door and shoved hard. He chucked her onto the table from several paces away, making her crash and skid across its surface. She squealed, then moaned through gritted teeth - she was back on the awful, cold, shiny table. The Smarty Man had no mercy for her, and now she was trapped, waiting for James to return and harm her again. Her foals crowded together in the front of the cage and peeped in worry when they caught sight of her.
âAhem,â said Dr. Frank once James had returned to the hallway. âFrankly, Iâm a little concerned about how things are going in your lab.â For a short, white-haired scientist, Frank was able to project grouchiness very clearly. Jamesâ shoulders slumped. âI await an explanation for why one of your subjects was found wandering the halls, young man.â
James breathed in and tried to calm himself. âDr. Hopkins wanted me to exercise the fluffies. I set them down on the floor to run around. It didnât occur to me that they could get through the door.â
âYes, well, I suppose we know better now. I think a little closer supervision could avoid such problems in the future, donât you? Itâs possible that the subject could have made it into contaminated areas or even just escaped. This is entirely unacceptable. You do understand why Dr. Hopkins wants them exercised?â
âYes. Iâm really very sorry about this. It was the first time Iâve been told to give them a workout.â
âWell, on that subject, that fluffy seemed to be in poor physical condition. Almost beat up. Was I imagining things or did it have a black eye? And a limp?â
James started a bit. âUmm, that fluffy has been sort of violent and crazy-acting, we think it was a feral, and it keeps getting into trouble -â
âIt seemed terrified of you.â Dr. Frank pressed, arching one eyebrow and looking at James as if he was a variety of fungus.
âUm, well, I gather it doesnât like me, but I have to give it shots and -â
âVery well. Please remember that while these animals arenât very valuable, we put a lot of time and effort into them for the sake of our work. Iâd rather not see our formula wasted on an injured animal or one that dies early due to negligence. Or mistreatment.â
âNo, I understand. Iâll try to find a better way to get them some exercise.â
âSee that you do. And please take care of the mess.â Dr. Frank gestured faintly towards the puddle of piss and the splatters of shit just around the corner. A few seconds later, his door shut with a thump that sounded like additional scolding.
James burst back into the lab, startling the fluffies. They had been having some kind of conversation, and they all clammed up. Muffin stood in the front of her cage, Spring silently shuffled away and flopped down with her foals, and Hazel scooted to the middle of the table and looked up, grim and afraid. The lab tech walked right up to her and half-shoved, half-slapped her across the table into the sink, like a 7 ball into the center pocket. She shrieked in pain and then huddled silently.
James noisily gathered up a double armful of cleaning supplies and stalked directly out the front door without a word. With him gone, Hazelâs foals cautiously left their nest and ambled up to catch a glimpse of their mother. The green pegasus peeped, which brought Hazel up onto her hind legs, appearing at the sink like a curious prairie dog. It was becoming a familiar arrangement. Her two pegasi peeped once each, and her brown earthie foal called out in a tiny, sad voice.
âMummah! Scawwy!â
âYu mummah waâ bad fwuffy.â observed Muffin from next door. âJames wiww gif owwies anâ sowwies.â
âNu! Nu!â said the dark brown filly, attempting to stamp on the carpet. âGud mummah! Wub mummah!â
Muffin stuck her tongue out at the upset foal. James boomed back into the room crackling with anger. Hazelâs foals turned and scuttled for the nest. He lobbed a knotted-off black bag into the trash and then carried a dustpan coated with fluffy shit over to the sink. Ignoring cowering Hazel for now, he dramatically hosed off the dustpan, letting the water and feces splatter down onto the hapless mare. As usual, being trapped, drenched and soiled always served to drive the unruly dam into a panic. She screamed once and cowered in the corner, sobbing. The lab tech reached down and snagged her collar.
With his other hand he pulled down on the hose attachment, bending the spring nearly to its limit, and jammed the nozzle through Hazelâs collar, where it hooked snugly. Then he let go. The springâs tension lifted the terrified fluffy clean off her front hooves, dragging her into a tiptoe stance. To keep the weight off her windpipe, she had to stand tall and arch her back. But she was wet, sore, tired, stressed, cold. Her hind legs immediately began to quiver.
The little fluffy tried to moan, but could only gurgle. Her front hooves took turns futilely batting at the collar or reaching out to brush the cold steel walls of the sink, desperate to find a purchase. James looked down into her eyes and they both shared the understanding that she was slowly being throttled.
âI donât know what the fuck to say to you, Ugly. You just wonât quit, huh? I mean, what the fuck are you going to do next, start a fire?â He paused as if waiting for an answer, but the fluffy could only make a gasping noise. The sprayer fixture rattled a little as she began to shake.
âYou are the weirdest, most pissed-off shitrat Iâve ever met. And Doc Frank is right, I canât just keep on beating on you. So maybe you won that round. I guess youâre real fuckinâ smart, but guess what? I know more about shitrats than you know about me.â
Hazel caught a vague sense of what James was saying, but she was rapidly running out of strength. Her leg muscles felt like they were being peeled off layer by layer, and every second closed off another millimeter of her airway. Her eyes were starting to go painfully unfocused when she felt the manâs hand brush her belly. Then he gripped her right teat, squeezing harder and harder every second. Hazelâs eyes bugged out of her dizzy head, and her mind screamed with a horrified intuition of what James was about to do.
The man pinched her sore, scalded nipple and crushed her crotchboob against his palm. It bulged painfully, like he was trying to twist it off but it wouldnât give. A blurry jet of sweet, pale milk sprayed out, riddling down onto the cold steel. When the first trickle reached the drain, the gurgling noise seemed to break Hazel into a raving spasm.
Straining up every underdeveloped tendon in her chest and back, she thrashed against the hose and shoved with her numb back legs. For a split second, the collar let go of her throat, and in that time she coughed out some phlegm and sucked in a heaving breath.
âNU! NU! NU STEGGHkk!â she shrilled until the spring bounced and she could only make obscene gargling sounds. âNUUUU! PWEEASE! NU STEAW M-rggkk!â It sounded like she was flaying her own vocal cords begging James to stop draining her. He didnât listen. When her foals nursed, it filled Hazel with a warm euphoria. With James squeezing out her udder, it sizzled with eerie pain, and left her monstrously hollow and cold.
Being right-handed, the lab tech instinctively reached all the way under the half-suspended mare, and she found that she could lay some of her weight on his forearm even as he grabbed her other teat like a clumsy prom date. She gasped in her first full breath in some time and twisted, feebly pushing at his arm and batting at it like a declawed cat.
âNu! Nu! Pwease, nu! Hazew sowwy! Huuuu! Pwease!â
âYeah, you donât like this at all, huh?â James taunted her, and switched to a mocking imitation of fluffy-speech: âOh, no! I wonât have any milkies for my babies and their tummies!â He painfully gripped her left crotch-boob and fastened his finger and thumb on the nipple. She felt the burning, draining feeling start over again and began raving and pleading.
âNuuuu, pwease⌠nu du dis⌠⌠Hazel sow-sow-sowwwwyyyy! Nu take miwkies! Pwease! Du anyfing! Du anyfing! Neva wun âway moaw! SOWWY! PWEASE!! PUH - PW - PWEEEEEASE! PWEASE NU STEAW MIWKIES!â Her screams seemed to ring off every surface in the lab.
âNo dice, shitrat. You tried to fuck with my job? This is what you get.â
âHuu! Nuuuuu! Nuuuu!â Hazel stuck her tongue out and bleated, gibbered, swatted blindly at James, tried to empty her bowels, nothing worked. The last of her strength drained out with the last of her milk. James casually unhooked the sprayer from her collar, and she flopped like a soggy, boneless trout to the bottom of the sink. Barely conscious, she saw a little puddle of milk streaked with bright red blood sliding gently towards the drain. She raised a wobbling hoof and tried to touch it, but it just smeared.
Spring and Muffin were cowering in their hutches. Muffin just stared with her mouth open, while Spring was so upset that she whinnied and paced back and forth in the front of her cage, ignoring her foalsâ peeping for once. The two neighbor mares shared a look - a mother fluffy being forcibly drained struck them both with a deep, harrowing fear. Timid Spring even reared halfway up and tapped her hoof against the cage bars to get Jamesâ attention and beg him to stop, but he didnât notice. Both mares retreated when James heaved Hazelâs unresponsive form into her hutch. He departed without another word, smacking the light switch and plunging the room into twilight.