Chapter 10
Adam had a brief little visit to the office. Not for anything discipline based. It was part of his next job. Clients called in for specific patterns or color combinations as well as type. Adam delivered the order forms to the science teams. There was electronic forms, of course. The Mill had plenty of tech, but apparently the scientists liked a visual reminder. Something about distractions. They would also inform the higher ups if there was already a foal with the color combination and if it needed any modifications done to it. Certain customers didnât mind the mods, others wanted it to be purely that type of fluffy.
As he walked, Adam took a peek through the orders, curious of what kinds of fluffies people wanted. One was a pegasus that was green and gold. Kinda reminded him of Link from Legend of Zelda. He looked at the next. Red white and blue, but wanted the mane striped. They gave a certain toothpaste brand as an example. Was the dude a dentist or something? He snorted and moved to the next. âŚEssentially Pikachu. He didnât know if this sort of color coordination was possible. Yellow with brown in the tail and in spots or patches across the back. Black ears and red cheeks. Adam was sure the scientists would have fun finding if it was possible. It would be an expensive one for sure. The last order in this batch was an albino fluffy. They wanted pure white with the red eyes and pale hooves. Exceedingly rare and difficult to care for. Even certain night lights could be too harsh for them. Adam had looked it up when theyâd had an albino fluffy born and was immediately taken to a special care facility in the mill. It had caused a big stir.
He slid the orders through the slot in the door. The science department was locked. They had essentially a mail slot with a tray for orders or other deliveries. Sometimes someone trying to curry favor would slide a candy bar or two through the slot to feed the scientists. Adam was fairly sure they had access to their own cafeteria in there. He heard a faint and muffled âthank youâ after he slid the orders through.
NextâŚhe was doing a âtestâ of modified fluffies. While he did the cutting off modifications, others did adding ones. Adding a horn or wings. Adam had to make sure they worked right. That they had sensation and the wings could move. That the ones made alicorns werenât going in a wan die loop. That happened at times. Like a teenager in a YA fiction becoming a monster. Since the foals were essentially little kids, it made it even worse. It was like a kid afraid of snakes waking up to find he was a snake.
First up was a pleasant surprise. Mare Number 1. Sheâd jumped and had to have all her legs amputated and her jaw wired shut. In fact, it looked like she was fed through a tube. Adam smirked. âWas jumping such a good idea now?â He asked the white rainbow dash. âNow you have no legs or teeth.â He said. He heard what might have been whimpers from the crying fluffy. He checked the mare all over, especially her stumps. That always got them crying, but they did actually have to check. There were signs of infection to look for. He took a good look at them and nothing seemed wrong. Same with her mouth but Adam wasnât quite as experienced at fluffy dental work. He couldnât check her tongue either with her jaw wired. Her wings were still intact, so she seemed to be in as good physical health as she could be in the moment.
Adam checked the next one. The colt recently had a horn transplanted on him. He was a soft gray color with a curly brown mane and tail. He had unusually large wings. If he trained them up, or jumped, he may be able to glide a tiny bit. That was more than most fluffies got in their lifetime. Adam checked on the fluffyâs forehead. He was complaining about âhead huwtiesâ and had a cone of shame to prevent himself from pawing at it. He also had on a diaper. Many of the fluffies in the recovery area had a diaper due to not being able to move around much. The diaper was taken off as soon as they were mobile enough to walk or crawl onto the litter box. The horn seemed to be taking to the fluffyâs skull. He didnât know the whole process, but the surgeons were careful to connect the horn, the nerves, and everything to the donor so it would grow with the fluffy. This horn was brown with swirls etched in. Looking close, the fur was growing around it fine. The fluffy was good, other than the usual pains of healing from surgery. A clean bill of health. Good.
Next was a wing transplant. The fluffy was meant to be a custom Pinkie Pie. They wanted wings on her. She was an energetic and hyper earthie, though the filly didnât look terribly happy now. She was whining about not being able to run, laying on her belly. She had to be restrained in what equated to a half circular body cast. She had to rest so she didnât tear stitches. Adam looked around them, then did a inspection of the wings themselves. He lightly poked one, and heard the filly squeak in pain, but it got the needed result. The wing fluttered. Good, it was working. However the left wingâŚbarely a twitch. He tried a different spot and got no movement from the wing. Hm. It looks like a nerve or muscle didnât connect right. He made a note on the chart, and stretched out the right wing. It was pretty, at least. All the feathers were there. Pink with lighter pink under feathers. Other than some internal problem with the left, they were all outwardly good. No sign of infection.
The fourth fluffy was not so lucky. Heâd recently been turned into a huggy fluffy. His back legs were removed, leaving only his front legs. He was fire engine red with a yellow mane and yellow streaks in his fur. Adam sighed as he took a look at the incision sites. They were red and swollen. Touching them showed they were too hot for a little foal. The stitches got infected. It wasnât cleaned enough. He made a note that they needed to be fixed. Likely opened and drained of infection, then washed and closed back up. Heâd need antibiotics also. He was huuhuuing about leggie owies. If only he knew the extent of themâŚ
Adam got those checks out of the way. He got to go to the recovery unit now, where those were further along in the healing process. These fluffies had just recently had the surgery. The next ones were aware of their changes. They could be a bit more difficult.
These fluffies had to be put in a small cage. Similar to a breeder mareâs cage. This was just to ensure the ones who did not like what they saw didnât try to bash their heads in. Like every other policy, it was policy because a fluffyâs unerring stupidity caused it.
From the first cage he could hear a faint âhuuhuuuuâ. He knelt down to see a fluffy caught their reflection in the water. A created alicorn. The horn had been implanted, and the foal was crying about being a munsta. Adam wasnât sure if it was due to being an alicorn, or just having something sewn onto them. Normally they werenât happy to have anything added to their bodies, or taken away. This foal was light red with a pastel green tail, mane, feathers, and horn. Soft Christmas was what Adam thought of when he saw him. âYouâre not a monster.â He told the foal.
âB-buhâŚpointy on head nu dewe befoweâŚâ the foal tried to paw at his head, but he was prevented by the cone of shame. âNu wike coneâŚâ he cried.
âYour new mom or dad wanted you to have wings and a horn. But you were only born with wings. The horn means they love you more.â They were encouraged to comfort the fluffies having a hard time. âThe cone is to keep you from getting yourself more hurt. Like if you have an owie and keep poking it. It wonât get better.â Some of the foals could be cute. He felt sorry for the little ones like this. He gave the little one a sketti treat for âbeing a good patientâ. No, it was all procedure. Calming them down with treats. It was also a mild sedative. Very mild, as it only made the foal drowsy, but didnât make them sleep. It was a little like how smoking calmed a person down, but didnât make them sleepy.
His next check was a fluffy that was given an artificial cutie mark. The skin from that area had been cut away and replaced with the desired shape from the skin of another fluffy with the desired coat color. Usually the coat was âgenerously donatedâ by a fluffy whoâd met its end or was about to. Or a fluffy that could afford to lose some fat. When it healed, and the healing process was carefully monitored to ensure the scar was hairline or less, the fluffy would have the appearance of a cutie mark with their normal fur.
A mint green filly with a soft blue mane was sobbing in her cage. Though she was a bit bigger, meaning she was likely recently sold and the owner decided recently they wanted one. The cutie mark was thankfully simple; a pink heart on the flank. âYouâre hurting?â He asked.
The poor mare nodded. âYus, mista. Haf owwies. Wai mummah weave? Fwuffy bad?â She asked.
Adam sighed. âNo, honey. Sheâll be back. Youâre just here to be prettier. When youâre feeling all healed up, sheâll pick you up again.â He said to her. âHere, have a skettie treat. The owwies will go away soon.â He knew that the mare that looked just recently grown would look pretty when it was all healed. The mare took the treat with as much enthusiasm as it could muster.
The third fluff in the room was a fluttershy colored fluff. The wings had been attached, but the colors and personality matched. She was trying to hide her face under her hooves, despite the cone of shame.
âSqueeeâŚâ it squeaked pathetically. Then yelped in pain as the wings fluttered. âOwies! Wingies huwties!â
Okay, Adam felt a little sorry for that one. The wings were very functional and made her sore. âHey.â He said to her.
âSquee!â The fluffy tried to hide.
Adam rolled his eyes, and gently poked her nose. Not even enough pressure to hurt. A boop, if you will. The fluffy slowly opened her eyes to look at Adam tearfully.
âNu mowe huwties?â The fluffy asked in nearly a whisper.
âI wonât give you any hurties.â Adam promised. He could make that promise easily. Heâd never hurt the fluffy. Now whether she had more work doneâŚthat was out of his hands. He gently handed her a treat, which she ate tearfully. She was left somewhat dazed as Adam left her.
Now he had the final one. Heâd been preparing for the challenge. It sounded like a live one in the cage. An angry one. He peered in to see what looked like a bulky earthie with the sharpest horn heâd ever seen. It was like a sharpened stick, rather than anything too sharp, but it was better than anything other fluffies had. The earthie was maroon and bulky. His mane and tail were brown with red speckled in, and red hooves. The horn was bright red, and long. GreatâŚ
âAnd whatâs your problem, hm?â Adam asked, not leaning close like he had with the others. This thing looked overindulged, bulky not just from muscle but also fat. It had its cheeks poofed out to the max, and was pounding his hoof against the cage floor. Pounding was far too generous a word. The marshmallow hooves made a âplafâ sound like soft leather.
âSmawty nu wan be in cawge. Wet out!â He yelled.
âMake me.â Adam sneered. He hated smarties, even if they belonged to a client.
Well, that enraged the smarty. It tried to charge. The cone stopped him mostly.
Adam couldnât grab the horn and risk dislodging it while it was healingâŚso he grabbed the sides of the cone instead, keeping the smarty close. His horn peeked through the bars, but his face was smushed against them.
Foolishly the smarty tried to bite the bars, and nearly cracked his teeth on them. âSCREEEEEE! OWWIES! MOWF OWWIES!â It screamed, trying to rear back but finding himself unable to.
âNow look at you. You hurt your teeth for nothing. Your owner might put up with this shit, but we donât like smarties here.â He growled. âYouâre going to shut up, or Iâll give you a lesson you wonât forget.â It had to be without marksâŚand maybe his attitude would improve at home. It would certainly improve while he was here.
âSmawty du wha smawty wan!â The stupid little creature insisted. Adam had a feeling it would end up like that. He let the cone go, and the smarty backed up. He knew what would happen next.
Sure enough, the smarty turned around. âTawke sowwy poopies!â Unfortunately for him, Adam was ready with a cork. Theyâd had plenty of practice corking fluffies on a dime at The Mill. These were developed reflexes due to the desire to not be pooped on. A good motivation as any.
The smarty strained, his bowels audible. He seemed confused that nothing was coming out. âWhy poopie pwace nu wowk!?â
Adam wasnât content with just a cork. No, that would be too easy. He grabbed the smartyâs tail and pulled him so his rear end and balls were against the cage bars. He grabbed a needle. It was a simple little punishment that left little physical marks. He jabbed the stallionâs balls a few times with the needle.
âSCREEEEE! OWIES! NU HUWT SPESHUL WUMPS! SCREEEEEE! HAF HAF SCREEEEEEEEE!â The smarty had to pause a few times for breath, but received several pokes with the needle before he was sobbing and apologizing. Adam decided to take him out briefly to uncork and empty him in the sink.
âBad huggies!â The smarty exclaimed after being squeezed out. There was a litter box in their cage, but Adam didnât trust a smartyâŚand would feel sympathy for the poor guy who had to clean angry smarty shit from the sterile area. He had squeezed him out over the biowaste, and back into the cage he went. He made a note of the punishment on the chart. âYouâre going to be better. Or everyone else who comes in will give you owwies.â He warned darkly.
Now onto something more cheerful. Feeding the special foals.
These foals were not runts or defective in any way. No, those were disposed of right away. These were foals with exceedingly rare colors, patterns, or features. They were immensely expensive, and required special care to ensure their survival and health. Adam was nearly jealous of the care they received. Nearly.
Still, despite their care, they were made to be polite and trained all the same with nothing permanent. They did not drop their standard, especially not for a more expensive fluffy. If anything, they needed to be even better trained. They needed to be the best of the best. The creme of the crop.
Adam walked into the room, his access card granting him permission to enter the restricted rooms for only the hours needed. He needed to wear a special medical gown with gloves, and had a camera on him at all times. It was excessive, but The Mill took no risk with these foals and fluffies. They were millions of dollars. Only the riches or most influential could afford them. Adam signed off on the care sheet, and got to work.
He got to feed the little ones first. They were given a special diet. Fed by bottle, but full of genuine mare mummahâs milk. The mares were fed only the best. Healthy sketti with all sorts of nutrients needed. Or food that was made to taste like sketti. These mares had it good without being spoiled. They were also kept to produce milk.
The chirpie enclosure was lavishly set up. The size of a standard box since they didnât need much room. It was lined with real mare fur as well as with genuine mummah scent to calm the foals down. The floor was nice and soft, the whole thing like a nest. The chirpies were kept four to a box fillies and colts separated. If they were from the same litter the same sex siblings were usually kept in the same enclosure.
First up was a cute little white earthy filly. Not just white, but when the light hit her fur, it sparkled iridescent colors. Even her mane did the same. She was too young to open her eyes, but Adam found her at this stage cute, even with the incessant peeping and chirping. She was hungry. Adam carefully picked her up in a gloved hand. The gloves were like medical gloves on his side, but on the outside to the filly it was mare fur. He gently turned her to her back, and put the nipple of the bottle near the fillyâs mouth. Her little nose twitched and she latched on, suckling voraciously. Adam moved his thumb gently stroking the fluffyâs head. He was extra careful around these ones. One wrong move meant he was out millions, and ruined for life. It even took a couple years until they allowed Adam to have some level of care for them.
The iridescent chirpie was fed, and Adam waited a minute before he over to the biowaste area, holding her upright over it. He used his thumb to gently massage the milk distended belly until she used the bathroom. No pain involved. He put her gently back into the nest then fed what he assumed was her twin. He assumed this as she was the same iridescent color but in black. She was a bit more lively, trying to move around. An early developer. She was a unicorn. The horn appeared to be clear like crystal. Whenever light went through, it sent rainbow patterns through the horn and on the other side. She fed as well, not quite as hungrily.
Adam emptied her after as well. Next was the colts. They were fed and emptied similarly, though they looked different. Both were iridescent, but one was a deep blue pegasus with white spots like the sky. The final was a bicorn. A rare mutation where what would normally be an alicorn has two horns, like a deer. Very rareâŚand therefore expensive. It had nice colors; white with a rainbow streaked mane and tail.
Next he signed out of that room and headed to the next. Older chirpies that could use the litter box and move around. But they needed some care. He went into the room. While this suited appearance would scare most fluffies, these foals were used to seeing humans like this since birth.
This room was smaller due to the lack of occupants. There were some nurse mares here, many the mothers of these types of fluffies. Rewarded for providing them with such good foals. Though they still had to feed all the foals. Their sense of smell was chemically deadened so they couldnât tell which foals were theirs and couldnât show favoritism. Many of them were alicorns as well to prevent fear of the foals.
Adam did a check to see if any of the foals had teeth to switch them to âbig foal foodâ. The little ones were excited to hear that. They wanted to be big fluffies. They knew big fluffies got to be adopted. They got their photo taken. Adam got to take the photos, and make a note on the chart of which fluffies were ready for milk softened food. They didnât eat the standard kibble most fluffies did. No, they got a highly nutritious mush. The milk was mostly for a flavor they associated with good things. It would be switched to solids later when they were more adept with their teeth.
Only two fluffies were ready for that. The first was a pretty mare whoâs colors were split down the middle. It was as if a line was drawn vertically. The mane and tail was a solid white, but one half of the fluffy was pure black, and the other side hot pink. She looked pretty cool, along with having longer legs than most fluffies.
The other was what The Mill called âAngora fluffsâ. Like the name implied, they were abnormally fluffy like the rabbit they were named after. They needed to be groomed and trimmed to keep from getting too warm. This oneâs fluff in front of his face was kept out of the way with a tiny hair band. He had the fluff around his feet trimmed to keep him from falling over himself. He had some gorgeous gold fur, slightly longer than normal ears, and a tendency to hop. Adam took some nice pictures that showcased their features, before signing out of the room, then the restricted area.
Adam loosed a sigh of relief. He always felt a little bit on edge in that place.