Chapter 15
Adam had a bit of an unusual task. He had to move the adolescent fluffies deemed as ‘marbled’ or ‘tie dyed’ to a new pen. Apparently the stock for them was low and they needed more. So they were to breed with each other…so long as they weren’t related. Adam re-read what design was considered for this. Dual colors in the coat that formed no particular pattern. Right. He could do that easily. He got a green transport bin before entering the room.
Once again the heat hit him as well as the noise and sounds. There was some smell, but nothing overwhelming as the rooms were regularly cleaned. Every half hour or so the litter was scooped. Adam was swarmed by the little fluffy foals, some almost at the age of sexual maturity. Well, that was someone else’s job. His job was the new breeding program. He didn’t say much to the fluffies that babbled at him. He only made an occasional grunt or ‘Oh?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Uh-huh.’ The foals only needed the affirmation, not a full on conversation. He found two right away. One was white with brown markings throughout his fur. He reminded Adam of ice cream with caramel. A perfect example of marbling. He gently scooped up the fluffy and put them in the bin. The foal was startled, but their only distress came from now being alone.
“Huuhuuu…whewe fwiends gu?” He asked, pawing at the sides of the container.
Adam found another, more of a gradient. Pink and blue with purple between it. Tie dyed. He scooped her up and put her in the bin. The two fluffies in the bin immediately hugged each other, apparently forming a bond to become the best for friends.
Unfortunately this pick did not go unnoticed.
“Sissy! Nu! Gib back!” A fluffy approached Adam. Unfortunately for her, she was not marbled or tie dyed. She was a very pretty violet color with a white mane and tail. She even had a white belly. But she was not the desired patterns.
Adam was going to ignore her and found another foal. This one was black and brown. The marbling was more striped than swirled, but it made a pretty effect. Pretty enough that he was not eliminated for not being pretty enough. As soon as Adam plopped him in the bin, he felt pressure on his knee. He glanced down and saw the little lavender filly acting up. “What exactly are you doing?” His voice was a tad colder.
The lavender filly, who’d been bopping Adam’s knee with her hooves flinched, but then looked at Adam and puffed up her cheeks. “S-sowwy hoofsies!” She declared. All fluffies that heard this gasped. There was a firm rule in place; NEVER give sorry hoofsies, poopies, or bites to a caretaker. Never be disrespectful to them in any way. Even the prettiest fluffy was not immune, as smarty syndrome was incurable. They would either be eliminated or made into breeding stock, and usually after they were pillowed first.
“You’re not allowed to do sorry hoofsies to a caretaker.” Adam reached forward and flicked her in the nose, hard. It was enough for her to bleed a little, but that should be allowed. Hopefully that allowed the lesson to sink in. He got another foal, this one looking more like a true tie dye with psychedelic colors. An OCD nightmare, really. Not a lot of fluffies seemed keen to look at him either. He set it in the bin, then heard the dreaded words.
“Take sowwy poopies!”
The shit splattered over his uniform’s apron, only getting his knees and stomach…but it was the principal of the matter. Adam’s face darkened, and he grabbed the disrespectful foal up by the tail, dangling her.
“SCREEEE! BAD USPIES! WET GU! WET GU!”
Adam flicked the filly’s belly a few times, which sent her swinging.
“Huuhuuuuu….wai huwt babbeh? Am onwy widdle babbeh…” she sobbed, wiggling her little legs pathetically.
“You know why.” Adam said, then stood up, her still in hand.
“Foals. It’s time for an example.”
Gasps from foal and nurse mare alike were heard. An example was what nobody wanted to hear. It was what happened to the bad foals that couldn’t be saved. At first the Mill punished the nurse mares until a couple workers who had kids pointed out they struggled with keeping their eyes on their kid and functioning. These mares had dozens of foals to look after. They couldn’t possibly notice every budding smarty. So now they just punished the foal.
Adam looked over her colors. They were good…so she’d be spared. But he had to make it look bad enough that nobody wanted to cross a worker. Adam first used the filly to clean off his apron the best he could. They were meant for the scaredy poop splatters every now and then one inevitably got from working with weak bladdered animals. Adam would have to get a fresh one after this.
He rubbed the worst off, the filly crying the whole time, spitting out poop that got in her mouth.
“What’s your problem, shitrat? Its your poop. You should have no problem with it.” He growled. After it was about as clean as he’d get it, he put the filly in the industrial sized tub. He flicked the light on the side. It was made of a darkened glass that could go two way at the flick of a switch. It could be used as a punishment this way. Adam plugged the bottom, and started to fill it. He didn’t intend to drown her…just scare the absolute hell out of her. He stopped filling the water at chest level, making the filly have to hold her head up, her snout pointe dup. She didn’t stop screaming.
“SCREEEEE! WAWA BAD FO FWUFFY! SCREEEEE! SCREEEEEE! WET OUT! BABBEH SOWWY! NU NO WHAT DID, BU PWOMISE NEVA DU IT AGAIN!” The foal tried its guilt tripping, not knowing she exhausted herself by waddling around in the water and screaming.
Adam looked at the foals and nurse mares. “Anyone else have a problem?” He growled, looking over them. Every set of eyes in the room dropped. There was plenty of scaredy poopies all over the room. He couldn’t punish them all for that. Adam roughly washed the filly, then plugged in a pair of Pillow Scissors. A special set of scissors mostly sold to abusers or pillow fanatics. The blades were heated up and one could snip the legs off a foal and cauterize in one snip. It was recommended only for foals, though. There was a shear size recommended for grown fluffies. Adam was sure they had a pair somewhere, but they mostly used their fancy modification station. These scissors were for examples, and left on display in the room to remind the foals that just because they were pretty did not make them exceptions.
Adam dried off the still crying filly and angled his body so the room could see. He also positioned her over the sink in case she somehow hadn’t emptied herself. He began pulling the legs to dislocate them.
“SCREEE! WAI HUWT BABBEH! BABBEH HAV SU MANY HUWTIES!” The foal screamed, barely able to wiggle her little leggies.
Adam held the filly by the scruff, and used the scissors, the blades now red. Four snips of the scissors, and the legs fell into the sink. He put the fluffy on the counter after, and called one of the employees.
“I had to make an example of a filly. She’s pillowed now. Please give her a number and cage in the breeding section. She tried to hit me, then shat on me.”
He heard a laugh on the other end. “Damn, Adam. You sound pissed! Got all the marbles and hippies?”
“Not yet. I was interrupted by the sibling of one. I’ll need someone in here to clean up the mess.”
“Got it. Make sure you get em all.”
Adam returned to his job. The fluffies no longer resisted, trembling a little if he lifted them but they did not dare resist after what happened. The punished fluffy was still on the counter, crying her eyes out.
“Foals. You see what happened to her? All she gets to do now is get enfies and have babbehs. She’ll never get to see her babbehs. She will have her milk stolen and never walk or play again. That’s what happens to bad fluffies. That’s what will happen to you if you misbehave.”
He finally got all the requested fluffies, and left, just as one of the janitors came in, swearing at the amount of work he had. Adam heard the start of protests of ‘Bad wordsies!’ as he left.
He made a quick pit stop to the supply room. The high walls of the container made it so the foals couldn’t escape. And nobody was going to leave a container alone for more than ten minutes. Adam carefully untied the apron and left it in the cloth bin full of other bits and pieces of uniform stained with blood, piss, shit, and other fluffy bodily fluids. He got a clean one hanging from the rack, and put it on, glad to not have the smell of fluffy shit wafting into his nose.
With that done, he picked the container back up, taking them to the newly repurposed room. It had some adult fluffies in there, but only two males. Ah. So that’s why they needed a new generation of foals. They only had two stallions that fit the bill. The mare must have died, as Adam remembered seeing one a few weeks ago.
The foals were settled in, separated by gender, then being marbled or tie dyed. Finally, that fiasco was over, and Adam could move on from this.
Or so Adam thought. The investigation on the ‘foal diddler’ as they were called, had suddenly found someone suspicious. Red hair had been the identifier. Only three people had red hair, and one was a woman. The other’s hair had been dyed red and suddenly was dyed back to black. It was a mighty coincidence, especially since the one with natural red hair was one of the scientists, who had little reason to go personally see the fluffies. So it was him that they chose to investigate.
The culprit covered his tracks well enough. A different employee’s name to sign into the rom and he’d worn a mask when he walked in. He only had red hair for a short time. On camera, his back was angled towards the camera so nobody would see what he was doing to the foals. He likely held its mouth shut since there was no sounds from them and crying was not out of the question for such emotional animals. They cried often when so young and thinking every worker was their new mother or father.
Unfortunately the red hair was damning. He wasn’t allowed to go into the foal room, and didn’t last under questioning.
“Yeah? So what I did it! They’re just fluffies, so who the f*ck cares!?” He snapped, earning looks from others. Disgust and anger. Punishment was one thing; they were doing something that warranted it. It was the ones that violated them that was sickening. Especially so when there was no reason. He’d damaged the product too It was one les fluffy they couldn’t sell and it remained to be seen if they could breed. The fluffy was easily hundreds if not thousands of dollars as a designer glow friend.
He tried to run, which was a mistake. His second mistake was running towards Mike, who used to be a wrestler in high school. He was swiftly taken down and put in a painful looking arm bar. Adam didn’t recognize the guy. He wasn’t one of the people Adam hung out with. He looked like he was either still in high school or just out of it. His face turned red as he fruitlessly tried to squirm out of the arm bar. When security go there, the boy was escorted out, and would likely get charged. Overall…it wasn’t nearly as exciting.
Adam had to go back to work. Next task….ah dammit…breeding the sea fluffies. He might have to talk to management, and tell them he’s having a physical repulsion to the sea fluffies. No one in the fluffy breeding business was expected to love fluffies, especially if it was a big business…but they shouldn’t hate the fluffies or be abusers. That was no good. Still, he couldn’t just ditch this aspect of the job.
Back into the sea fluffy sector. He had a special cart, which was similar to a wine glass box; tons of little dividers, but it was all glass and full of water. Adam went down the lines, taking out sea fluffies with the special net. The stallions, if that’s what they could be called, knew what was going on. They were eager, though they wiggled a lot in excitement, enfing the water as if testing their genitals still worked. Each cage was separate for the studs, but they could talk and swim a little bit. The same setup was with the mares. Their cages were slightly bigger, but they could not be all placed together like normal fluffies. Not when they swam and had three dimensions to work with. Apparently they briefly thought about it, but the fluffies flocked together and it made it a pain to scoop out different ones. Fluffies. Always ruining things for themselves.
He put the male fluffies in with heir prospective mates. They were left to make their ‘speshul hugs’ before being put back.
Unfortunately one decided to make it difficult. The pure black sea fluffy with flowing fins like a beta decided he really liked his match; a white sea fluffy with spiked fins. He had moved her to the bottom of the tank and stared out with puffed cheeks.
Adam shook his head. He decided to forgo the fishnet, and instead go for the clamps. For the more difficult specimens.
Adam reached in with the clamp. Apparently the bravery of a fluffy didn’t last long.
“SCREEE! SCAWY FINSIES!” The stallion screamed and shat…sending it rocketing through the water right onto his new mate.
“SCREEEE! NU SMEWW WPETTY! MEANIE SPESHUL FWIEND! NU WIKE!” The mare screamed. She pushed him away, allowing him to be grabbed by the clamps.
Adam gave the fluffy’s head a hard flick before putting him in carrying container.
Most of the matings went well. A lot were experienced, knowing they did not get to keep their special friend.
There was only one other incident, an experienced stud and a new breeder. She thought the big, handsome maroon stallion was her new special friend. She was quite pretty; rainbow scales like Rainbow Fish, but she was too moony eyed, clinging to the stallion. He looked annoyed, apparently not a fan of cuddling. Adam had to use the clamp and the fishnet, only because clinging was involved. The mare was clamped as the stallion was fished out. He practically set a sea fluffy speed record to get into the net.
“NUUU! SPESHUL FWIEND! CUM BACK!” She yelled, struggling against the clamp.
Adam put the fluffy in his little container.
“Tank you, nice mista. Bishes be cwazy.”
Adam was startled into a laugh. “Who taught you that?” He asked. He figured he must have picked it up from an old owner or worker. Most of their sea fluff stock was feral or from feral parents.
“Owd daddeh. He was meanie daddeh. Put bunnies stickies in housie.”
Ah, so an abusive ass who put out his cigarettes in the fluffy’s tank. “So you like this place better, huh?” He asked as he wheeled them back to their side.
The beefy sea fluff nodded. “Got enfies, nummies, and gud wawa.”
Adam smiled. “That’s what we like to hear.” He said. Who knew. He’d end up not hating one of the sea fluffies. He scooped them back into their cages. Curiously, the sea fluffies didn’t seem to have a problem with the transfer, other than mild complaints of feeling heavier. He heard they could last on land for a limited amount of time. It was the drying out that killed them, not the lack of water.
Adam sighed as that was done. He had to go see a man about a certain type of angora fluff.
