My experiment with the bodyless fluffy was an a rousing success. The brain and heart kept the fluffy alive for a wooing 30 minutes!
Now to create a more efficient version and breed him with the Hellgremlins. I’ll need Autism to mess with Hasbio’s production formula one more time. I could easily just make them produce my Hellgremlin, but this is just too much fun.
Another idea came to me when I was having a conversation with a mammal biologist at the college. We were discussing African wildlife and the Hyena came into discussion of how the female clitoris were as large as their male counterparts. This would be perfect for my Mares, though gene splicing a hyena with a bio toy based on a horse would become very tricky. The only man I know who could even accomplish such treason against God is Asperger. And a giant clitoris request would never go through a company whose target audience is children. Then again, the fact that fluffies have the equipment to reproduce and raise new generations is already pushing it.
I could always fix it so the smarty mates think they belong on top during sex. Which could consequently cause the stallion to think himself worthless. You know what? That’s exactly what I’ll do in the Hellgremlin’s next update. For now, I must release my full grown into the cities. I recently heard that some of the fluffies from the PETA raid had returned to the cities and settled in alleyways and abandoned buildings. Of course it was only a matter of time before some of them instinctively found their ways to human populated areas. They’re designed to be needier than real pets. Some people have even adopted a few of them off the streets. Now is the time to act.
I took a small trailer meant for one horse and crammed all but a couple of Hellgremlins into it and drove it to the outskirts of the nearest city to release them.
I wonder how Epstein is faring since I threw him out of my lab. I’m sure by now he’s found a herd and subjected them to his will.
A few weeks have passed and the new generation of abuse enduring foals are already weaned and the Hellgremlins are already working on destroying the cities. Some are already voting to ban these creatures from society. Abuse stories had been around before I started breeding my Hellgremlins, but now the popularity of it has since skyrocketed. Even otherwise pacifists are participating in the purge. I need to make sure though that enough of the fluffies without the Hellgremlin gene are around since that design is why I even helped Hasbio create them in the first place, so I could have a way to channel my own evil. I’m glad to hear that I’m not alone in that train of thought.
There are some hopeful fools out there that have started businesses built around savings fluffies as though they were animals. To each their own, so long as they don’t interfere with my scheme to destroy Hasbio.
I will play the waiting game one more time before finishing the job. The formula to making the fluffies abuse resistant must proceed first. What always annoyed me in my youth was how easy it was to kill animals before you had your fun with them, now I have a chance to solve that problem.
I have two safe rooms for fluffies. One for the normals the other for the Hellgremlins. The normal fluffy’s safe room is always open because I gave them a rule to always stay there. Any that leave are punished by becoming my abuse toy for the day (which happens frequently. They are designed to have the brain of a 5 year old after all)
The Hellgremlin’s room I visit regularly to update and breed for when the time comes to release them once more.
Yesterday, two “splorin’ babbehs” left the safe room. One was barely passed the opened door the other managed to grab my attention next to my work table.
“Wook daddeh, babbeh spwore! Babbeh spwore!”
“I see, so is your sister, I’m gonna go see her.”
I walked to the door and the foal crawled after me saying “ wub spworn’” while chirping happily. The other foal was doing the same thing only she was just barely over the door space so I closed the door on the foal chopping it in half. Causing screams on the other side and from the foal following me.
“Screeeee! Nuuuu, sissy hab owies! Sissy nee’ huggies to make owies go ‘way! *chirp *chirp *chirp!”
“I told you all to stay in the safe room so you wouldn’t get hurt!” I yelled at the foals picking both of them up. The foal that I crushed the lower body was chirping in agony as some of her organs were dangling from the exposed middle scarring the unhurt one even more.
“And now I have to punish you by causing as much pain as I can before you go forever sleepies”
I put on some screaming metal and brought the speakers to both sides of the chirping foals who were crying and hugging each other. The one with a lower half was pissing and shitting everywhere.
I left them there to get some torture tools for foals. A small sorry stick, a needle, some thumbtacks, salt and peroxide. I moved the speakers away and turned down the volume enough for them to hear me.
“After you go through your punishment, you’ll get sketties! You like sketties right?”
“Nu huwt babbehs! Babbehs aw fow wub an’ huggies! New’ mummah fow scawwies an’owies!”
“Shut up!”
“Screeeeeeee!”
I whipped the uninjured foal with the sorry stick six times then sprinkled a pile of salt for the one without a lower half and placed her on top of it. The screams were loader than the music I had them suffer through. Didn’t think they could even do that.
“Mummah, save babbehs!!”
I heard relentless tapping from the safe room and cries for their foals back. Ignoring them I started to take the sorry stick and shoved it up the male foals ass.
“*chirp chirp! Poopie peace! Nuu huwt poopie peace! *cheeep *cheeeep!”
I started thrusting it in him like a Hellgremlin would to an enfie babbeh then planted the stick up right with the foal still stuck on it raving around.
“Dance for daddy,” I commanded it.
It kept chirping and screaming until it ran out of breath then I took it off the stick and put it next to his sister. It immediately started hugging her and crying.Nice Daddeh, pwease nu mowe huwties am gud babbehs.”
“No!” I flicked it across the table and the foal with salt started crawling away slowly. “ you are bad babies, you left the safe room and now you are on the torture table!”
“Daddeh am munstah! Wub ‘way bwudah!”
Chirped the bottomless foal crawling away. The foal with the stick still in its ass started wobbling away from me, so I took two thumbtack and jammed one in each hind leg. It screeched and cried over its hurt legs, then I picked up the salt covered foal and poured peroxide into the wound. She screamed some more and I quickly picke up the male and made him watch as she began to expand with the foam from the peroxide and eventually, it started coming out of her eye sockets, ears, mouth and nose as the rest spilled out where she once had a backside.
“Huu, huu, sissy! Munstah gib sissy foweba sweepies! Hatchu! Hatchu!”
“Yep and your sister is the last thing you ever see,” I told it poking a needle through one eye, the nose cartilage and the other eye. Both eyes began to internally fill with blood then I broke his front legs and left him there on the table faintly chirping for the rest of the night.