The Recycling Center (By: Kersploosh)

“MUMMAH SABE BABBEH!” Those words echoed through the mostly empty house. All the mare and her mate wanted was shelter from the storm, so they decided to take shelter under a deck. Unfortunately, their children didn’t get the memo that making noise was a bad idea and started babbling while exploring. This led the owner straight to them, and ended with the family captured. Now the owner of the house, a man name Charles, was poking and prodding one of the older weanling foals. In total there were eight foals, three weanlings and five that had just opened their eyes a few days ago.

“Quit yer belly achin’ dumb ass.” He sat the brown earthie filly down in a box separate from her siblings, “I haven’t hurt a damn hair on yer head, but that will change if you don’t calm down. Understood?”

“Y-yes mistah.” The little filly curled into a ball and in the corner of the box after answering and started to sob quietly.

“Good,” he then picked up another weanling. This was a dark green unicorn like his father with a piss yellow mane. “Got dang yer ugly. No sense in lettin’ ya keep yer bits. No woman would touch ya.” The colt was too afraid to say anything, but the tears were welling up from the cruel words Charles had uttered. He would have a real reason to cry as Charles lifted up a box cutter and sliced off the little abomination’s balls.


“Oh quit yer bitchin’. Not like you need the damn things anyways.” Charles dropped him next to his sister and grabbed the last one. Another male, but this one was a dark blue pegasus with yellow and white specks in his coat with a snow white mane. “You’ll make me a pretty penny when I sell you to Roy. Congrats, you get to keep yer lumps… for now.” This one was sat in a separate box away from his siblings.

The younger foals were much easier for him to asses, and their manes were at least in enough for him to spot any thing of value. Two of the five were placed with their speckled brother and the other three went into the other box, but not before the two males in that group were de-balled. The three rejects were various shades of puke green and brown, and the other two were a yellow and black bumblebee patttern pegasus filly and a true albino unicorn colt. All things considered, a really good haul for feral. The adults had already tested negative for chips, so no owner would complain about stolen property. All that was left to do was call Roy and inform him of what he found.

“Hey Roy. It’s me Charles” …. “Yeah I got a couple recyclables you might be interested in.” … “Three, one male weanling with an interesting pattern and two week to week and a half-olds. A male albino unicorn and a patterned pegasus filly.” … “Seem to be in decent health.”… “Yeah I got the parents, nothing special, just your average shit colored forest ferals. Half their brood are ugly as sin as well.” … “Okay, I’ll throw the parents in a pen and see what their next litter is like, and throw the rest in the orphan pens.” … “See you in an hour.”

Charles began his work while waiting on Roy to show up. He ran the local Fluffy Recycling Center, which was basically where fluffies that were no longer wanted would be dropped off to be disposed of. Unlike shelters, these fluffies were not up for adoption to the general public. Organ/limb donors, enfie pals, fluffy hides, and fluffy meat were the fates of those who ended up in a center. Similar to shelters, these places received government funding, but the standards were much lower. While a shelter had to keep fluffies somewhat happy to appease potential adopters, and not give someone a mentally damaged toy, Fluffy Recycling only had to not release fluffies into the wild.

To keep fluffies under control, and reduce the chance of an escape, all weaned foals and adults were kept in separate wire cages. The younger ones were placed in cages together with an auto feeder, and chirpies were always kept in incubators. No mare got to keep their children if she gave birth and would constantly whine and cry for their children. Not that breeding was the point of these places. Breeding was only done to test for potential genes and most test foals were culled on birth. Only exceptional ones were kept alive for resale to mills and breeders.

“Hmm, where did I put those ear tags.” Charles looked around the processing room and eventually found them on top of a high shelf. He placed a tag(a smaller version of the ones used on cattle) in the pliers and noted the number on a piece of paper, along with a description of the brown filly, and prepared to tag her.


SCREEEEEEEEEEE! HEAW PWACE HUW-.” Charles grabbed her mouth and held it shut.

“Knew I was forgettin’ something.” He grabbed a small rubber band and placed it around her mouth. “There, that’ll shut ya up.” He chuckled and proceeded to do the same to the other weanling and the three not quite walkie-talkie foals. “Time to escort you five to your new homes.”

“Wan… chirp… mummah!” One of the shit brown geldings cried.

“Well tough luck, you’re never gonna see her again.” The quintet started to cry, and Charles ignored them as he took them to their cages.

You could feel the despair in the air. Rows upon rows of cheap cold cages that were barely big enough for a single adult lined the general population holding area. A water bottle, litterbox, and food dish were the only amenities afforded to the fluffies. The ability to talk to each other through the walls was the only thing that fulfilled their social needs. About half of the cages held a fluffy, as fluffies were removed for execution almost daily. The older siblings were placed in their individual cages and Charles made his way to the infant care area.

The infant care area had cages that doubled as incubators. The three siblings were dropped in an empty one and Charles filled the auto feeder. There weren’t any more foals in this room as a man had purchased the dozen or so that were here the last week for an abuse session that involved his bratty mare who kept demanding babies. After watching an assortment of young foals killed in brutal ways in front of her, she went catatonic for an hour. Afterwards, the mare started to cry if the owner brought up foals and hasn’t asked for them since.

Dealing with the parents was the easiest part. They hadn’t seen what Charles had done, so it was easy enough to convince them that he was a nice person and would give them back. The only stipulation was that they had to eat some food first, which was laced with aphrodisiacs. Twenty minutes later, and the sounds of fluffies fucking could be heard as Charles handed the good foals off to Roy. Once they finished, the dark green unicorn passed out, a side effect of the drug, next to his dark blue pegasus mate. They would stay asleep as they were tagged and caged in the potential sales area. When they awoke, the reality of their situation would hit them, but it didn’t matter as there was no escape.

While the family was busy coping with their new hell, Charles typed the sales info into the database. He also made sure to add the info about the new arrivals in as well. He leaned back in his chair and stretched. No matter what some people said about his business, he was still the good guy in all this. Recycling was a good for the environment after all.






This was awesome! Using a rubber band to shut the little fuckers up was brilliant. Wish there was a little slow burn ya know but business is business I can respect that. Can’t wait for more!


This cheered me right up! More please!


Interesting and to the point. I’ve been faffing around too much in my stories.