Chapter 8
Time to punish the adult fluffies…Adam did enjoy this part of the job. They knew better. Their punishments were harsher, and could leave marks. The foals had to be sellable…the adults were here for life. There was already a punishment room with the adults fluffies in it. All sorts of torture elements…but a majority of these could be used. The only rules were no killing the fluffy, and to keep their reproductive organs intact or able to be used. They still needed to make money off them.
Adam looked at his chart to see who was first. Ah. Mare Number 55. What a surprise…not. She was always trouble. She caused even more trouble after being a pillow! She’d been put in the pen to be bred, but apparently after coaxing a stallion close enough, she bit his member when he tried to give mouth enfies. The little bitch planned it! It had been a stud that was very good with making alicorns. An alicorn himself. Luckily he was okay. Resting in the infirmary and heavily bruises…but he would be able to enf another day.
If 55 didn’t make consistently good foals she’d be terminated…Now she was to be hooded and restrained each time it was time to breed her. For now…she needed to be punished. What could be done to a already pillowed mare? Well, Adam planned to take her teeth and weaken her jaw for starters. Make it so she could never bite again. She’d have to be fed though a tube now. It wasn’t too big of an adjustment. Sometimes the Mill did it when a mare was going into a depressive state. All it meant was that Number 55 would be moved to a new area.
“You never learn do you, 55?” He asked coldly, and saw the panic flicker in her eyes. “It’s a shame you’ve got such pretty fur on that ugly personality.” He said.
“Nu am ugwy! Am pwetty mawe! Wan pwetty babbehs!” She protested, wiggling her stumps.
He couldn’t shave her. It wasn’t against the rules, but it was too cold for that. It would lead to a breaking of rules. “You’re a bad fluffy. I’m going to make sure you never bite gain.” He said. He took a good pair of plier and gave it a couple test grips…just for effect. He used his other hand to open 55’s mouth. The mare tried to resist, but was too weak to. Adam dislocated her jaw.
“Screeeeee! Mouf huwties!” Her worlds came out garbled due to the now dangling jaw. Adam held her upper jaw still, stuck the pliers in, and pulled out a front tooth, blood coming down after.
“SCREEEEEEEEE!” The fluffy screamed, her screams hurting her even more with each jaw movement.
Adam took his time, removing each tooth with the pliers. He did his job methodically and made sure the root was out. He made a careful cut to the muscles in her face that helped control her jaw before popping the jaw back in place. She wouldn’t be able to crunch down on anything with no teeth and now severely weakened jaws. Adam slathered on a good amount of healing gel.
“There’s not much more to cut off, 55. I’d be careful if I were you.” He said. “You don’t want to be like BREE, do you?” B.R.E.E. was the definition of a bad fluffy. She’d been pretty, but horrible. She’d lost all her limbs, all her senses, her teeth. She’d been kept alive on an IV, catheter, and colonoscopy bag, and only bred. As soon as she had the foals, she was bred again. She was dead now, but her preserved body was kept on display. A reminder that the workers could always take more.
He didn’t expect an answer from 55, and put her aside in the cold metal tub at the other side of the room. He was done with her.
Next…Stallion Number 38. That was rare. They pretty much understood all they had to do was give enfies to mares. They were usually happier because of that. Though they wer ok working with fluffies, so of course they could find some way to f*ck things up for themselves.
38 was a good looking stallion. He had robin egg’s blue fur and a white mane. He was perfect for Easter. He looked over the chart…Ah, that explained it. He was a family man, in a way. He didn’t just want to impregnate mares. He wanted a special friend and to start a family. An admirable trait, really…but not useful here. Unfortunately 38 had a habit of hugging the mares. Not special hugs. Just regular hugs and didn’t enf them.
“Stallion 38. You’re supposed to give mares special hugs to have foals. Why haven’t you?” See if he could repent.
38 at least had the gall to look guilty. “B-buh…jus wan famiwy…nu wan enf mawes Nu mowe…”
“That’s not your concern. You WILL give enfs to them.” Adam growled. He wondered how to punish this one…
“Jus wan huggies!” 38 claimed.
Ah…now he had an idea. “You want hugs, huh? I’ll give hugs.” He reached for 38, who instinctively went into the ‘upsies’ pose. Adam picked up 38, and slowly started to squeeze around his middle. Under his ribs to prevent breaking.
38 looked uncomfortable already. “M-mistah? Huggies awe tu hawd…” he wiggled in discomfort.
“But you want hugs.” Adam said in mock confusion, tightening his grip. “You’re getting hugs from a human. Don’t we give the best hugs ever?”
“T-tu tight!” The stallion cried, flailing his legs. “Huwties!” He screamed. The stallion was empty, but it didn’t stop him from farting heavily from fear and pain.
“I just want to make sure you have the best hugs so you don’t want to give hugs to any more mares.” He tightened his grip even more.
The fluffy coughed and hacked, his face turning darker beneath his fluff. “P-please stahp, mista! Pwease!”
Adam tightened his grip even more. “You give enfies to whatever mare we tell you to.” He hissed, and dropped the fluffy. It was less than a foot onto the table. 38 squeaked out in pain as he was dropped, his rump stinging and feeling the cold. “Understand?”
38 nodded. “Y-yus. Gib enfies tu mawes.” He gasped.
Adam smiled coldly, and dropped the stallion into their bin. He didn’t expect them to have any further problems. New stallions were the real troublemakers. He had one of those on the list…but he’d go for another mare.
“Next…We’ve got Mare Number 5.” He plucked the mare out of the bin. White with pink spots and a pink mane. “Hm. Fitting.” He said. Apparently she’d tried to make a stallion give her enfies in the ‘wrong hole’. Her rear. Well…that was easily fixable. Make her associate that hole with pain. Adam had seen a devious punishment that involved chili pepper paste and an anal probe.
It took a quick three minutes to set it up, and Adam kept a devious grin at all times as the fluffy kept trying to ask what Adam was doing. She toddled around on the table. She’d been bred three times, and knew damn well which hole was used. The stallions knew as well, but she’d tricked a new, young stud. He had to be watched the next few breeding sessions to make sure he wasn’t confused. Adam smeared the chili paste on the probe. The fumes alone were hot enough to make his eyes water. He smirked to imagine what would happen to her. The probe looked like a medieval torture device…judging by the rust on it, it just might be. He turned the fluffy around.
“Wha? Nyu game?”
“…Sure. It’s called ‘Hide the Probe!’” Adam decided and shoved it in.
“Eeep! Nu wike dis game!” Even if the fluffy had tricked stallions, the probe was rougher and larger than any stallion’s member. After a few seconds, the tingling began. Then the burning. “SCREEEE! HAWT HUWTIES IN POOPIE PWACE! SCREEEEEE!” She began trying to waddle around.
Adam slid the probe out, but the chili sauce remained. The sting would remain. It was unknown to most, but the receptors that made one feel like their mouth was burning…it went all the way down the intestines. That was why people felt the burn after eating Mexican food and when it was time to come back out. So Number 5 got to feel like its ass was on fire. Adam had not chosen the mild peppers. The mare was lucky there wasn’t anything stronger than chili peppers. Ghost Chili or California Reaper…now that would have been a show. For now, he contended himself in watching Number 5 crying and waddling in circle. Fast waddling that consisted of running for a fluffy.
“HUUU HUUU! HUWTIES!” The fluffy screed. It tried to rub it’s rear against the cold table, only smearing a bit of the paste on the outside. All that did was made her rear more raw…which caused more pain.
“See, your poopie place is hurting. It doesn’t like having things in it.” He said. She was just lucky he used the normal probe and not the one with tiny spikes to leave her inside scratched and raw. Honestly, he thought it was enough to use the regular one. There was nothing to do except wait for the effect to end. A few times pooping should clear her out. But the lesson would stick. Into the bin she went.
“Next…ah, Stallion number 3.” Adam said darkly. Even he had problems with this one. Black with silver streaks and a silver mane. A unicorn. Handsome, but a bit of an addict. He wanted to hump everything. Including his cage. A few times of spraying his ‘good feels’ into the room, and once on a worker…well, they needed to correct that. They’d gotten him an enfie toy; for the high sex drive pones. It even collected their semen to be artificially inseminated…but no, he preferred the cage bars. That needed to be fixed. Adam had just the idea. He got a weight that was normally used to calibrate the machines. A couple grams, and a hook on top. He tied a simple loop with twine around one end, and made a loop on the other. He grabbed the stallion, and forced him on his belly at one end of the table. The free loop? It went around the stallion’s balls. Adam made sure the loop was loose enough that he could take it off, and it wouldn’t take the stallion’s balls off. He gave it a tighten, then flicked the fluffy on his rear. “Run.” He commanded.
“Owies!” The stallion cried. It got up and tried to run, only to fall on his face in pain. “SCREEE! Speshul wumps haf huwties!” It screamed. Stupidly it kept trying to run, and either kept falling on its face or just kept hurting his balls.
“This is what happens when you enf things you’re not supposed to. Us workers hurt you.” He said. “You’ve been told not to enf the bars of the cage. You have an enfie toy to use.” Adam let it go on a bit longer before pinning the stallion down and cutting the string, careful not to give the stallion a snip. Though he let him feel the cold metal of the scissors. “Next time…I might miss the string.” Adam wasn’t serious, but the stallion didn’t need to know that. Into the bin with him.
Next…one of the toughies, surprisingly. He had a habit that he’d been using on other toughies…not allowed. Toughie Number 52. “52…you’ve been dragging weaker stallions by their tails and through the litter box.” Effective on foals. “You’re only supposed to do that with small fluffies we tell you to punish.”
The toughie, more of a smarty, was dark blue with a black mane. He wasn’t especially pretty, but he was especially large. Muscle wise. He puffed up his cheeks. “Nu cawe! Dummeh fwuffy git tu cwose!”
Oh great…food territory issues. They tried to avoid it. Still, it was out of line to drag a fluffy all the way to the litter box and through it when a simple shove or buck would do, and was allowed by them.
“You don’t care, do you ? Lets see how you like it.” Adam took a piece of string. Stronger than the twine, but not quite thick enough to be called a rope. He tied it tightly at the base of the toughy’s tail and hauled him up into the air. There were a few hooks hanging above a person’s head level for more…creative punishments. Adam was able to reach up, and tie the fluffy up there, so he was being suspended by his tail.
“SCREEEEEEE! TAIW HUWTIES!” It screamed, flailing its leggies. Adam grabbed a fun little device. It was like the baby version of a BB gun. They called it the Fluffy gun. It would bruise fluffies, but it wouldn’t kill them. Unless you shot down its throat or into an eye. Much like a paintball gun on humans. There were different kinds of pellets. Regular, which just left a sting. Chili pepper, which left a welt and burning as the oil soaked into the fluffy skin, and stink. Which left a foal odor on the fluffy that tasted awful so they couldn’t lick it off. Since Adam didn’t want to actually have to smear fluffy excrement on anything, stink pellets would do. He put a nose clamp on him so he didn’t have to suffer as well. He made a game of it, standing a few paces back, trying to hit from there. He’d even give the fluffy a push to make a moving target. Each hit was rewarded with a fluffy yelp and crying. Adam was a better shot than he thought. He got all but three shots. One he even got the toughie on his ‘nu-nu stick’. Lucky they didn’t need their special lumps.
“Do you like it?” He asked, his voice nasally from the clamp. “Smelling bad and being dragged by your tail? That’s how your victims feel. What if a bigger fluffy does it to you?” He asked. Sometimes asking after the punishment got through better. Adam stopped the fluffy from swinging so that the fluffy could look at him. The thing’s eyes were rolling, either from the smell, or swinging.
“Toughie am sowwy! Nu mowe!”
That was about all he’d get from a toughie. Adam untied him, and put him in the bin. “That smell should fade in two days. Er, bright times. It’ll help remind you to be good.” He told the toughie.
That was all the punishments for this time. He was pretty fun. He felt rejuvenated, even! What was next? Nurse mare training? Well, that was fun. Often times fluffies had all the right qualities…but couldn’t put the knowledge or training to practical use. Or had the training but couldn’t use it when there were distractions afoot. Adam would be conducting a sort of final exam for them. It would just take a little preparation…