After some lurking in this community, I have finally created a story I want to share with others.
Thank you for reading this and I hope you enjoyed it!
Rage in a Cage
By mawpmawp
“Welcome to Rage in the Cage! Where we lock you up and you go hog-wild!”
Through installed wall speakers, the owner’s voice cheerily echoed in the empty lobby. Layla flipped through the channels, checking for any signs of vandalism or break-ins. Nothing so far since the last time a group of activists attempted to break in to rescue the fluffies, but Mark was quite adamant anyone who opened do a check just in case. As the one tasked with coming in a couple of hours early and setting things up, it fell on Layla’s lap. At least she was getting a little bit of overtime out of this.
“Just checked the feed and nothing new, chief.” The text blipped up and within seconds a thumbs up appeared in response.
“Don’t forget, the ‘bweathie-munstah’ will be here soon! We got a new toys incoming!” Marcus texted with an accompanying mixture of various laughing emotes. Right. There was a note placed in the break room fridge a few days ago, how they managed to secure a more stable source of fluffies. While she waited, she might as well get the rooms set up and give the goods a check up.
Layla checked today’s schedule and the client’s preferences for each room and any special orders. One caught her eye. A regular who paid well wished to completely demolish a herd alongside his usual objects.
Coincidentally, a herd had been captured a week earlier. Perfect.
Layla grabbed a cart and loaded it up with furniture, particularly fluffy beds, littler boxes, and other saferoom accessories.
Compared to most rage rooms, this one was one of the largest and most popular for abusers and thrill-seekers. Most businesses would simply pillow the fluffies and leave them around to be smashed and that was it. It was for anyone who just wanted to scratch an itch, that was it. For anyone who wanted a real experience of what it would be like to be truly destructive and broke mind, body, and souls if the little bastards had them, this was the place.
Each room was designed to look like a perfect saferoom with additional furniture to make it look more 'lived-in.” Countless (for a fluffy) toys strewn about the floor, dozens of small beds lining the walls and gigantic bowls perfect to be filled with ‘sketties’. Litterboxes too, but they were rarely used. The fluffies were waited hand and foot. It didn’t matter if the ball was red or blue or if they had just eaten their meals half an hour ago. They had it all. No misbeheavior was punished and the only thing that was ‘sowwy’ was the hooves the fluffies gave to their human caretakers or the shit they would blast out all over the floor and walls.
It took days, if not weeks, but the end result was always satisfying.
The entire family or herd would become extremely spoiled and become an almost homogenized mass of bestest bastards. When they weren’t bullying the staff that came in to check on them, they would pick on each other or engage in fights to assert themselves as the head smarty.
There was something about facing a creature so revolting, petulant, and obscenely confident at its perception of dominance over the humans that added some real spice to demolishing them. People paid good money to watch the things insult and command their obedience, only for their worldview to shatter after witnessing their foals or special friend being reduced to gore in front of their eyes.
Speaking of which, she had to check in on the latest room. Layla opened the door and feigned surprise at the smarty. “Oh! You’re already awake? I didn’t realize you were up so early!” Her voice coming out confused and the last syllable of each of her statements always ended on a higher note. “Silly me! I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to be up early next time.”
She mentally counted them. Six adults and seven foals. Okay, all accounted for and none of the foals got stomped to death by their ogress of a mother.
“Stoopi wady!” The off-yellow and red colored fluffy stomped his off in frustration. “Gib sketties nao or ou get sowwy poopies!” He trotted over and stomped on Layla’s shoes, then headbutted the padded shinguards repeatedly in an attempt to hurt her with his horn. The other fluffies were also awake and circled around her like a demented ritual circle, stomping their hooves down and yelling similar remarks to her. Even the foals chimed in, with some of them defecating on the spot while sticking their tongues out.
“Sketties nao!”
“Ugh, fucking fluffies. “Okay, I’ll get you your sketties~” She stepped out to the cart to grab the freshly made bowls of spaghetti and poured them out into each bowl. The last drop of sauce didn’t even hit the bowl before the herd charged in, fluffies ready to stuff their bloated faces before the smarty butted in with his entourage of toughies. “Smawty and tuffies first, dummehs!” He bellowed before burying his maw into the food and inhaling it, vomiting a little back out every time his body forced him to breathe in between bouts of snarfing.
Disgusting.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Layla dipped out to head into a side room. A light cocoa fluffy lay curled in in the corner, alongside an orange fluffy. Both having a cream colored manes. Four pastel colored foals huddled against both of them, quietly chirping while one of the adults tenderly licked them clean.
“Nu huwt fwuffy, pwease. Huhuhu…” The orange fluffy whimpered. “Am gud fwuffy. Onwy eat kibbwe and wawas.” The foals chirped and leaned against the fluffy while occasionally saying ‘no huwt’ and ‘scawy’.
This was true; these fluffies had been relatively calm compared to their herdmates and were surprisingly obedient. They rarely misbehaved despite Layla’s encouragement.
“Hush. It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” Layla slowly reached her hand forward and placed it on top of the fluffy. Expecting to be struck, it tensed before realizing there was no force behind the impact.
“Fwuffy am not bad fwuffy?” This was… different. Before, the human had put them in a quiet room with simple toys, a litterbox, and a bed large enough to fit them, but the staff had rarely interacted with them. They came and went, each time refilling the food and water respectively. Sometimes, a plate with a small serving of sketties would be placed, but they weren’t allowed to have it. None dared, fearing the punishments that would incur if they did so.
“No, you aren’t. You’re a good fluffy! You listened to me when I said don’t eat the sketties.”
The two perked up. They didn’t know how the humans knew they didn’t eat it, but the simple compliment was more than enough to raise their spirits out of their depressive slump. “Fwuffy and babbehs are gud!” The fluffies beamed with pride and cooed out of happiness.
Layla found the shitrats generally disgusting, but the good ones were at least tolerable. She’d never loudly admit it, but she did have a tiny soft spot for them. Only because she used to have one she loved dearly as a child.
“You’ve been so good and someone wants to take you to your forever home!” She was sure the entire sentence went through one ear then out the other, but the last two words lingered. The fluffies froze for a moment, letting things registering before increasing their cooing and tapping their hooves against the floor in joy. “Nyu housie! Nyu housie! Fwuffy go to nyu housie!” The foals looked up with bright eyes, smiling and chirping in shared excitement.
Sometimes it was almost startling how easy it was to cheer these things up. “Yep, but she’s not here yet, so you gotta wait, ok?”
“Otay, nice wady! Fwuffy wait!”
“Good.” She patted them one more time before leaving celebrating fluffies behind. It was weird do this whole sparing thing in a rage room of all places, but the boss wasn’t complaining. It kept the costs down.
As part of the agreement with their latest supplier, new stock were placed in a quarantine room for observation and to test them.
She had theorized that ferals would make the best candidates for their rage room as many of them were either spoiled domestics who ran away to indulge in their selfish desires or ferals from multiple generations of fluffies with variations of bestest babbeh complexes and bitch mare syndrome. Smarty syndrome was quite common and it usually didn’t take much to turn them into absolute egotistical degenerates.
As Layla remembered, they were often called hellgremlins.
Despite this, there was always a small percentage of fluffies who were more inclined to be gentle, but with the harsh nature of the outside world and the herd itself, they rarely had a chance to prove themselves to people.
The fluffies were placed in a plain room with food and water. For a few days, human food or sketties would be placed in the center with the command to not eat it and just stay with kibble. Most fluffies would wait until the human had left the room to indulge themselves, but a few would stay back and stick with the fluffy food.
Strangely enough, they would just continue to stick with the processed food and apart from the occasional cursory sniff of the forbidden fruit, they obeyed.
So maybe she was onto something or she was just selling fluffies as a side hustle and the rage room was a convenient way to filter out the shit products. Layla can’t really blame her. Fluffy exterminators don’t get paid much in this city.
The door chime rang and Layla briskly walked to the lobby to greet their supplier. A woman wearing a jumpsuit and respirator stood in the lobby. She held a large carrier in each hand stuffed with upset fluffies demanding freedom or their promised luxuries.
“'Hey there.” Layla nodded.
“New delivery. I have three herds. About eight fluffies each.”
“Alright, just leave them here and I’ll get the rooms set up.” It took the better half of an hour, but soon the new fluffies were put in their rooms and the supplier was gone with her payment and fluffies.
Layla knelt down towards the new herd and addressed who she perceived to be the smarty, usually the shitpig puffing out his cheeks at her.
“Okay, fluffies! I’m going to leave you alone so you get used to your new safe room. There’s only one rule while I’m gone and that’s to not touch the sketties.” She made sure to have eye contact with each fluffy to confirm they understood her instruction.
“Hmph! Dummie wady! Sketties am for smarty and hewd! This is smarty wand now!” The bright green fluffy trotted over to the bowl and began to dig into it, not caring at the woman’s rules. He was promised sketties by the long-faced breathie-munstah and he was going to eat what was rightfully his.
“Riiiight. Well, for the rest of you fluffies, no sketties! Okay?” After making one last check, she went to leave the room, pretending to not notice the fluffies who didn’t even wait for her to leave to make their way towards the smarty.
Layla stepped back into the active safe room to see what the herd was currently up to.
“Heyyyy~ Anyone miss me?”
The smarty snorted, bloated from his meal and reclining on a raised platform covered pillows and stuffy toys. A throne befit for a king.
“Dummeh wady! Smarty no miss ou, but wan moar toysies and stuffies!” He stomped his hoof. “Spechul fwen wan new nesties and sketties and smarty wan enfie mawes! Nao!”
“Oh, I don’t know if we have any more of those.” She smiled, crouching down to be level with the smarty. “I’m sooooo sorry, but I couldn’t find you a pretty mare and we’re out of sketties!”
Out. Of. Sketties.
Impossible!
Bunching his fat face into a scowl and snorting, the smarty rose up and lumbered over to Layla.
“Ou wiww gib smawty sketties, and toysies, and enfie mawes and ou will nebah teww smawty dewe will be nu moar sketties! Dummeh wady! Stoopi humin!” He lifted his fat-smothered leg up and shot it out at Layla’s head, hitting it to emphasize each word of his next demand.
“Sketties, enfies, toysies, NAO! Dis am smawty wand! Smawty desewbe aww!”
“Smawty desewbe aww!” Repeated the herd, stomping their hooves at the ground while a few bolder fluffies moved to stomp directly on Layla to smear their shit all over her boots and legs.
Layla let the painless beating go on for half a minute before raising her hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay! Smarty wins! I am a dummeh human and I’ll give you what you want! Promise!”
Satisfied, the fluffy stopped and simply puffed his cheeks. He walked off and stopped to lift his soiled tail, showing he could’ve shit all over her, but chose not to today.
Layla looked down, acting like she was beaten down and finally gave in to the smarty. She returned with more food and toys, but no enfie-pals. Before the smarty could even question her, she had left him alone to rage vent it out on his herd.
The hours passed by with clients going in and out.
Finally, their favored regular stepped. A large man with a balding head and thick beard. Always polite, but there was something off about him, like he could blow up like a firecracker at any minute. He looked more miffed than usual and this time, he was carrying a box.
“Welcome.” She waved at him. “Not renting any tools today?”
The man simply shook his head and rattled the box. “No, I’m going to have some special fun today.
Layla could barely tell what was in the box, but it was all manners of glass objects and what looked like to be kitchen utensils. “Um, okay, but remember the rules. Any electronic object must be supplied with its own source.”
“Of course. I know the rules.” He filled out the form and paid the rest of the deposit before leaving to his room.
The herd lazily laid about, waiting for their servant to return. Instead, a man slammed the door open and shut it with equal force to startle the fluffies. “Hello shitrats.” He set the box down on the counter and grinned. “I’m here to play with you.”
Surprised at the new human, but unafraid, he stepped down from his platform to confront him. The rest of the herd approached him to demand treats. “Maek wae fow smawty and tuffies!” The stallion pushed the others aside before standing before the man.
“Dummeh humin! Dummeh pwomise moar sketties, but no see sketties. Onwy gib stoopi fernitawe!” He stomped on the man’s boot, leaving a brown smudge on the surface. Seeing how he didn’t even reply, the smarty headbutted his shin.
“Wisten to smawty nao!”
“Shut it, shitrat.” He knocked the fluffy away with a kick of his foot, sending him tumbling into his bloated herdmates. “I already take enough shit from my boss and I’m not going to take any shit from you.”
“We’re gonna play a game.” He scanned the herd and watched a fugly fluorescent violet mare tend to the fallen smarty.
“Ou otay, spechul fwen?” She nuzzled him while their foals laid on top of her fluff. The things looked almost like baseballs, absolutely stuffed and clearly fed to maximum capacity. He was surprised their hearts didn’t give out.
“I’m gonna need your foals.” He scooped one up, the same color as his father. Green-yellow like a construction vest. “Is this bestest?” He asked, which was confirmed when the foal screamed ‘bad-upsies’ and cried for his parents to save their bestest.
“Now, now. Don’t cry, you little shit.” He placed the foal on the countertop and proceeded to unload the contents of a box. Hollow glass tubes, a meat grinder, hammer, bat, and various other tools. “I’m gonna show your ‘daddeh’ the game I want to play.” He picked up the bestest and presented him to the herd.
“Wet bestest down!” The smarty yelled and puffed his cheeks. “Or smawty gib you foweber sweepies!”
The man scoffed, then chuckled before laughing. “That’s rich, stupid.” I’ll let bestsest down alright. Let me show you.” He placed the fattened foal on top of the hopper and held him down under his palm.
“Mummah! Mu-MUMMAH! EEEEEEEEE!” The foal squealed, feeling his tail wrapping itself around the spiral shaft before the rest of his body followed suit. The foal feebly attempted to use his hooves to grab onto any thing but they failed to catch on the smooth surface.
“NUUUUU BESTEST!” The mare sobbed before looking at the smarty. “Spechul fwend! Sabe bestest! Sabe babbeh!” She ran forward and frantically tapped at the man’s feet in a vain attempt to stop him.
He stopped for a moment, looking down at the mare pathetically sobbing at his feet while the rest of the herd looked on confused and terrified. Even the smarty was frozen in place, unable to comprehend his sudden loss of power. The dumbfuck thought he had it all, but maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to realize he’s nothing more than a worthless shit machine.
“You want bestest?” The man grinned, watching her continue to beat at his feet and plead for her baby’s return. He looked down at the half-ground foal, who could only groan and heavily breathe as just enough of his vitals were intact to keep him alive. “Okay, I’ll give you bestest.” He lifted the mare with enough force to knock the remaining two foals off her fluff and held her up to eye level of the grinder.
“BESTEST!” The foal’s eyes stared into his mother’s, half his body dribbling out as red chunks with brown shit mixed in between.
“Mum…” It whimpered, only to scream when the man restarted the grinder while holding the mare’s open mouth against the exit.
“Here’s your bestest, bitch!” He held her firm, watching her legs desperately flail in every direction to push out against anything, but failing to do so. Chunks of her offspring forced itself down her throat and soon she retched, vomiting some of it back up before she was forced to consume the rest of it. Afterward, he slammed the mare down on the countertop and tied her down with duct tape.
“WAI? WAI KIWW BESTEST? WAI NUMMIES?” She wailed, squirming and trying to break free. “SPECHUL FWEN! HEWP!” Her wailing turned into pained screams when the man took out nails and drove them through her legs with a hammer.
“Now you get a front seat to my game! Isn’t that fun?” The man laughed and watched the herd back away, some scattering to far corners of the room, but their eyes remained glued on him.
He reached down to scoop up the other two foals, only to be bitten by the smarty. Despite his toughies running away and his view being shattered before his very eyes, he was still somehow defiant. “Nu taek babbehs!” He growled, only for him and his foals to be lifted up. “Wet gu! Put down smawty and babbehs!”
“Fuck, you, you little shitrat. You want to be the biggest fluffy and be high and mighty above all, you get it.” He held the stallion down and drove the nails through his legs as well, drawing pained screams with each nail driven in. Now both fluffies were sobbing and their foals attempted to reach them.
“Let’s show everyone what happens to a smarty’s babbehs.” put on gloves and grabbed a foal. It cried and pleaded for him to love it, but he just couldn’t with how fat and ugly it looked. He grabbed a small hollow tube and forced the foals mouth open before shoving it down the foal’s throat. Watching it squirm and choke was satisfying enough, but when he quickly slammed his fist down on it, did the real show begin.
The foal gurgled and attempted to scream, spewing waste out of one end while blood came out the other. The broken glass shards dug deep within his esophagus and stomach and the internal fluids seeped into the wounds. To the horror of the fluffies, the man rolled his palm over the fluffy like he was kneading bread, each one causing the foal to gurgle and spurt out even more blood. Soon, the thing laid flattened on his back with broken glass poking out of his skin and blood pooling out around him.
“BAAAAABBEEEHHHSSS!” The smarty cried, watching the light leave his foal’s eyes before looking at the last one. “WUN! BABBEH WUN!” The panicked foal tried, but his legs struggled to support his obese body and he made no progress before the man pinned his body underneath his thumb and grabbed a second rod.
“Here comes the airpain!” He pressed it against the foal’s anus before firmly forcing it in and listening to its pained scream. The foal wailed, flailed, and chirped for its parents to help it. The noises quickly turned into an intensifying shriek when the man smashed a hammer against the foal’s body and shattered the tube within. He lifted it, watching it shit out blood and small glass shards before placing it in the grinder followed by its deceased siblings.
The resulting mess was a mixture of meat, waste, and glass. He caught the mess in one hand and turned to the two fluffies. Without a word, he grabbed the mare and forced her to look at him before smashing the mixture in and rubbing it against her eyes!
“SCREEEEEE! SEE PLACES! NUUUUUU!” The mare thrashed, forcing the shards deeper into her eyes. The man laughed before shoving some in her mouth and taping it shut.
The smawty heard screaming from the herd and from his mare, but he was so caught up with staring at the man that he didn’t realize that he too was screaming at the top of his lungs.
“See this?” The man grabbed the fluffy’s head and forced him to look at the blind and suffering mare. “You caused this. You were such a fucking shitpig that you got your foals killed and now your mare and herd is going to die.”
“NU!” The smarty cried, only to be slapped hard enough to knock out teeth.
“And you’re going to get a front row seat to this.” He picked up the bat and turned to the rest. “Who else wants to play my game?” Now broken, the herd had completely voided their bowels as they tried to hide and plead for their lives. One fluffy attempted to run, only to be lifted up by her tail and used to destroy the ceramic mugs on a table. Her back a bloodied mess when he was finished. Afterward, he slammed the bat down directly on her, breaking her body open and spilling her innards out. She was barely alive when he slammed the heel of his boot into her skull to cave it in.
Four foals were reduced to chirping and abandoned their parents to try and save themselves. All of them gathered up and placed in a portable blender. The screaming lasted for less than a minute before they became a thick paste and the contents were poured all over the smarty. Finished with the blender, he threw the glass container at a fluffy cowering in the corner. The creature screamed at it shattering against her and before she could run, the man was already on her and grinding her down against it.
He picked up the bloodied fluffy and threw it against the tv with enough force to shatter the display. After smashing and venting his work rage on it, he left the dying fluffy inside the apliance.
The smarty could only sob and choke on his tears and snot, wondering what went wrong. It couldn’t be because he was a bad fluffy. He was a smawty and before this, he had gotten everything he wanted.
It must be the human’s fault, but she was always weak. Why him? Why this one which was bigger and stronger and didn’t listen to the smarty’s words?
He was wrenched back to reality when the third-to-last member of the herd screamed at the man. He had a chair held up high over his head and he slammed it down with all of his might, crushing the fluffy and breaking his bones beyond repair. The fluffy struggled to crawl away, but was soon smashed to literal pieces as he kept slamming the chair over and over over his corpse until the furniture finally broke apart.
The last fluffy sat petrified in the center of the room, watching the man wander with his bat and hammer and smash everything else; plates, vases, and the paintings on the wall. Their safe room, which had been filled with all their toys and bed were now reduced to broken bits. It didn’t resist when he finally grabbed it, simply voiding itself and crying.
The man showed the smarty the herdmate before slamming her down on the counter. “I got something special for this one. He picked up a knife and held a flame to it, letting both fluffies watch the blade glow red before sinking it deep into the fluffy.
The penetration and heat triggered something deep within the fluffy and it screeched. “SABE FWEND! SMARTY SABE FWEND!” It writhed while repeatedly stabbed by the blazing hot knife. With the wounds cauterizing almost immediately and the fluffy’s natural healing put to work, it took several minutes of stabbing the fluffy every which way to finally kill it. Only when he drove it through the fluffy’s eye with a satifying sizzle and pop did it make one last pained scream before finally dying.
Now, the last was the smarty and his special friend. The mare had never stopped trying to scream past her taped mouth. She tried to wipe off the gore, only to dig the glass bits further in. He was sure she was now in a wan die loop, as she kept making noises in a certain cadence and nothing else in between agonized sobs.
“Wan die? I’ll let you die. Do you want her to die, smarty?”
“Nuuu!” Even if she was suffering, he still wanted her around. Selfish prick. He probably just wants someone to blame after this.
“Too bad, I’m gonna let her die, dipshit!” He grabbed the large bottle of water and opened it up before placing it directly over the mare’s nostrils. At first, the mare didn’t realize what was going on before enough of it had flown down her nose. The smarty watched her struggle and try to break free, desperate to expel the liquid while her body let out one last panicked shit. Then she fell limp on the countertop. He poured the rest of the water over the dead mare and slammed his bat down on it, showing the smarty how waterlogged she was before turning to him.
“Now onto you! I saved myself the best for last, and you’re going to be my pincushion until I let you die!”
“NNNNNUUUUUUUU!” The smarty screeched out. His own mortality had been realized and no one would be saving him now. Watching the man take out more tools, a power drill, glass tubes, and a container of thick liquid, he now believed he was not the best fluffy as he thought he was.
The man spent the rest of his allotted time with the smarty. Shoving glass tubes up his rectum before shoving the drill inside and turning it on to blend them together and watching the smarty blow out his vocal chords crying out. He poured alcohol down his throat to make him cry out even more, resulting in gurgles and sounds that could only be described as some dying poultry.
The man removed the fluffy’s nails and flipped him onto his back to expose his stomach, smashing it several times with a hammer before breaking a bottle over his legs. “Fucking piece of shit!” He stabbed the bottle into the fluffy before removing it and stabbing him again. “Motherfucking shitpig!” He stabbed around his hips going as much as he could before moving up to stab the fluffy’s face. He watched with glee how his ruptured eyes spewed out fluid while tried to kick his broken legs at the man.
He watched the fluffy’s blood flow and his movements slow before he put everything down and picked up the bat. “Got ya one last parting gift, shitpig.” Raising the bat high up in the air, he inhaled before slamming it down with full force, breaking the smarty apart and splattering parts of his body in different directions.
He slammed down over and over, each mashing flesh, bones, and fluff over and over until the only thing that was left was a gory pile with fragments of bone sticking out.
Taking off his gloves, the man pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke out towards the mess. Goddamn, that felt good.
Layla ate her sushi while she watched the feed, unfazed at carnage unfolding in front of her. Boss was right. After a few dozen watching of the rage rooms, she had an iron stomach. Watching that smart’s herd being torn apart gave her lunch some spice to it.
Minutes later, the man left the room, sweating and covered and fluffy gore. He nodded at her before leaving with his box.
Now for the other part of the job that sucked; cleanup. Layla grabbed the bucket and mop and walked in, expecting the usual mess of shit and gore. To her surprise, the bodies and bits were gathered up in a pile and a piece of cardboard was stuck to the wall, warning her to watch for glass.
Scooping up the mess into a bag, she stared into it, realizing a good chunk of it was half-digested sketties.
Fucking fluffies.
