Chapter 18
Adam didn’t normally want to punch his boss in the face, but this was one of those times. The Mill was…most of the time a reputable fluffy business but sometimes they succumbed to the demands of capitalism. Trends lasted longer than a fluffy’s lifetime. Foals were in, but they grew. They became Fluffies, and it was only their colors, training, and intact reproductive organs that kept them from being tossed out like a lesser bred fluffy.
What did this have to do with Adam’s anger? Well, The Mill found a way. They found a way to breed sensitive babbehs. Essentially foals with a brain defect that kept them from growing and developing like a regular foal. They stayed with their eyes closed, learning very few words. They were even injected with a chemical to keep them small. Forever Foal was what they were being branded. Adam found it sick. These foals were already defective like derps, and yet now they were being sold. Even the derps were as well. Marketed as a fluffy that loved you no matter your faults. Ugh. At least they weren’t selling pillow fluffs. Crying and sad foals and fluffies were bad for business…and nobody up there in management was that depraved…yet. They still sold enfie pals and huggy friends.
Speaking of the huggy friends, they were often sold alongside the Forever Foal. Claiming they needed a reassuring friend, and huggy friends just LOVED to hug. Funny, since they had pretty much nothing else to do. Hug and talk to their friend. They don’t get TV since they were seen as a toy or an accessory for their fluffy. Who got a whole TV for their toy’s toy? Basically, the huggy friends were just as doomed as the Forever Foal.
Adam had to do a check on the Forever Foals, huggy friends, Derps, and the enfie pals. The enfie palls were first up, and the farthest away. They were by the stud stallions. Usually ones that were still getting used to being a stud, or enfie pals that needed to learn the ropes. Unless for whatever reason a creep ordered the enfie pal to be…unused. Untested. Adam got creep vibes from those orders, usually from the wording alone.
He made it to the enfie pal room, and as soon as he opened it, he wrinkled his nose. That was NOT a pleasant smell, and he did not linger too long on it. The room was noisy, full of the sounds of fluffies crying and pleading for freedom. The enfie pals were the fluffies who just didn’t make the cut for beauty or the Mill’s standard. They were usually replenished via a note to a single employee’s pager to save a few female non poopie color rejects. They were to be taken to the modification room. They would have their front limbs cut off and spayed. Then…they waited. Waited until sexual maturity when they were told their purpose was only to give stallion enfie. If they were really resistant, they would be silenced by a cut to the vocal cords. Sometimes they had a fluffy that was eager to please…those were the rare and weird ones.
Adam checked on the broken in ones first. He had to make sure they hadn’t picked up any infections. Somehow fluffies could get STIs. Adam didn’t want to know any more about that than was strictly needed. He didn’t need or want to know how they got them, why they got them, or anything else other than the signs to look for. The disturbing thing was he’d noticed the original owners of some of the enfie pals were humans…he hoped to whatever god was there that his suspicion of how they got the STI was unfounded. Adam went down the line, able to check easy as most enfie pals faced the corner sobbing, or eating. Most of the toys were towards the back of the crate so their back ends faced out. Most looked fine, though there was an odd color to EPM12. It was red and irritated. He made a note on the chart. This was the easy part.
Now…he had to check the new arrivals. This was always a worse part. They didn’t know why this was happening to them. They were programmed to want love and hugs. Now they got unwanted special hugs and their front leggies cut off. It was essentially fluffy hell, short of being sold to an abuser.
The new arrivals were always crying, and as Adam checked the first one; a red pegasus with the wings cut off, tried to garner sympathy from him.
“Nice mista! Pwease! Hewp fwuffy! Nu wan bad enfies!” She begged, her face fluff almost sopping with how much she was crying. She scooted close to the bars of the cage, her stumps outreached as if she could still get hugs.
“No.” Was all Adam said. He could have come up with a lie, elaborate or comforting…but he simply didn’t have the energy to deal with these things.
The fluffy’s face fell and she started loud sobbing.
Adam sighed. He still had to make sure she hadn’t torn anything. He opened the cage and reached in.
The fluffy thought she was getting huggies and gasped happily. She went into upsies pose, only to be grabbed by the scruff of her neck. “Eek! Bad upsies!” The fluffy instinctively tried to reach back, only to be reminded of her lack of front arms. “Huuuhuuu…wan weggies back…”
Adam inspected the stumps, ignoring when the fluffy flat out sobbed to have them touched. He saw no tears in the stitching, no signs of infection. Now…the not so fun end. He turned her around so her rear end faced him. The enfie toys were emptied regularly to prevent worker and fluffy alike from being blasted with shit. The less baths needed, the better. Enfie pals were even more suspect to drown than other fluffies even pillow fluffs. Their front legs being gone kept them face down, rear up. Washing was risky.
Adam sighed as he had to inspect her ‘special place’ just to make sure there was no infection. He tried to get it over with quickly, especially with how the fluffies reacted.
“SCRREEEEEE! NU TUCH! NU TUCH SPESHUL PWACE!”
Adam winced, feeling disturbed and guilty all at once. “Calm down.” He said. “I’m making sure it’s not infected.” He had to explain that to them so they didn’t cry, thinking they were being assaulted again. “If I don’t do this, you might get worse owies.” He told her.
That made the fluffy calm down a little bit. Just a little bit. It was still sniffling pathetically.
That fluffy didn’t have an infection, so Adam put her back, without any huggies. That seemed to devastate the fluffy more than the rest of the procedure. Adam went down the lines, going over the sobbing fluffies, many which just pathetically pleaded to be let go.
There was one incident Adam didn’t anticipate. It was a newer arrival that had more spunk in her than the rest. She was braver than most fluffies. As soon as Adam opened the cage, the fluffy dashed out, her back legs speeding her along. Adam had been reaching for the clipboard, and the fluffy’s mad slide/dash took her out of the cage….straight down to the floor.
It was about a four and a half foot drop from the chest level cages down to the floor. The fluffy falling headfirst didn’t stand a chance. She smashed face first onto the ground, breaking…just about everything short of her pelvis. Adam swore, as it looked like he’d have to explain this to the superiors. It wasn’t every day they had a suicidal fluffy, but it was bound to happen at some point. He sighed and picked up the thing but he tail, tossing it in the biohazard bin. One less to check. He sighed to hear the screaming as the death traumatized the other fluffies that could see. At least the rest of the investigations went smoother.
Now he had to check on the Forever Foals. Ugh. He still hated that word. He went into their special ward. It was like a babbeh room, with a lot of sensory toys for the fluffies to play with. Play mats, things to snuffle, many huggie toys…and most of all…huggie friends.
They didn’t look terribly happy. The huggie friends only had one function; to act like a living stuffed toy for a fluffy. Normally they were used for pillow fluffies, but the Mill had found another use for them. He went over to the first one, a drab blue one with a grey mane. He was in a diaper that needed to be changed. Adam picked him up by the scruff.
“Bad upsies!” He declared, but was hugging Adam’s hand for all he was worth when he was laid on the table. “Wong way upsies!” He wagged his little leggies. “Huggies! Pwease? Nee huggies!” Right, Adam heard of this. They got very anxious when they weren’t hugging something. Anything. Adam found a random huggie toy and handed it to the huggy friend, who latched onto it, nearly hyperventilating. Pathetic thing.
Adam checked the huggy friend over, morbidly curious of the thing. It didn’t move its back legs much, nor did it seem to be too uncomfortable with its lower body being touched. He gave it a rougher poke on the rear and was surprised there was no reaction. He gave pokes until he got to the lower spine, and the fluffy yelped, then looked up tearfully at Adam. “Wai huwt fwuffy?” He asked, sniffling. Adam finished changing the diaper, and took the stuffy toy away before putting the huggy friend by the nearest forever foal, which the huggy friend latched onto. He picked up another huggie friend, plucking it from a stuffie friend. He put the one he yoinked from the one he was just working on into its arms before it could start bawling.
Doing the same experiment, he found that this one reacted much the same. Oh. So they numbed the lower body. It made sense. A diaper was a sense of shame. If they couldn’t feel their lower legs, he supposed they wouldn’t miss it much. He sighed, and went about changing the rest of the diapers of the huggie friends. Then…the forever foals.
Adam picked up one of them. It was a shimmering white with a pastel blue mane. The foal was about the size of a walkie talkie babbeh, but still had its eyes closed. He gently poked its cheek, but the fluffy just tried to latch onto his finger, attempting to suckle. It really was like a little foal. He pulled his finger away and carefully cleaned the thing up, going for a bigger one this time.
This sensitive babbeh was pastel purple with curly fur and a lighter purple curly mane. Its eyes were open and were a soft green. Though when it opened its mouth to speak, it peeped before a soft ‘wuv!’ Was made. So they were only able to make a few words. Just like a foal. By all rights, this fluffy in front of him should be eating solid food, but it still had no teeth. Well. That was a shame for it. He saw it didn’t wear a diaper, apparently old enough to start litterbox training. He had to admit…he was a bit curious, even if he never wanted one.
He put it back, and looked over the rest of them. On the TV was even an ad for the Forever Foal.
‘“Foals are cute but they grow up far too fast. Wouldn’t you like to savor taking care of a babbeh for years? Or even their whole life?” The announcer came onscreen and was holding a fully grown fluffy, albeit quite small for its size. Its eyes were half open. “Wuv daddeh.” It said before chirping. It nuzzled into the announcer.
“Introducing the Forever Foal! These fluffies live the same amount as a regular fluffy, but stay dependent on you forever! They won’t run around dangerously like other fluffies. They’ll crawl around like any other foal and crave attention. Unlike those pillow fluffies or other modified fluffies, these Forever Foals aren’t depressed. In their own minds, they’re just babbehs.”
A growth chart was shown, showing that the foals grew at a slower rate, and only got up to the size of a small fluffy. It stayed that way the rest of its life.
The next shot was of several Forever Foals in a room of all sizes and ages. They were peeping and chirping, some of the older ones managing to toddle a few steps before losing their balance. There were milk stations and kibble mashed with milk.
“Forever Foal. Get yours today.”’
Adam made a face. Nope, he didn’t like them anymore. Damned things. He sighed and left the room. He’d rather hang out with his Angora fluffs.
(Sorry it’s a short one. After this it’ll be The Mill in its early days.)