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Academic Studies

By: Catharsis

Part 5

10/14/2021

Sitting in a leather chair, Henry tapped the end of his pen against the closed notebook upon his desk. His eyes faced forward to the tall, rectangular window opposite his desk as he went through the events of yesterday evening’s test after he had shown Charcoal and Stripe Film Three. Henry remembered that after the footage ended, and he had placed the DVD back in its case, the fluffies sat and began to ask him questions one at a time. Their questions were focused on why the film wasn’t as scary as the other two films had been. Henry replied that was because the fluffies were getting used to the materials. The subjects did not quite understand what he implied, but they congratulated themselves on being braver than they used to be, and with hubris typical for the species, that they must be braver than other fluffies too. Then, Henry had to administer the post-film test. Opening his messenger bag once again, Henry pulled out another stuffy-friend. The two fluffies hopped up on their back hooves, leaning against the playpen wall in excitement; giddy to ‘play’ with the new stuffy-friend in exchange for more apple slices. Despite the species’ stubbornness, fluffies can be surprisingly quick learners when positive reinforcement in the form of food is introduced.

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The rules were explained anew; Dr. Janecek told Charcoal and Stripe that this stuffy-friend makes sounds. If the two fluffies can get the stuffy-friend to cry for death, he would give each of them more slices of apple. This specific stuffy friend was a normal off-the-shelf stuffy-friend, but Henry had modified it by adding an audio emitter attached to a pressure band that went around the inside of the toy. The emitter would play different saying depending on how much pressure was applied to the band, sounds which Dr. Janecek had added by downloading them onto the device from a fluffy soundboard. A light squeeze around the band would have the toy emit “huggies!”. Yet increasing amounts of pressure would cause the toy to emit cries of pain, anguish, and eventually, if too much or enough pressure occurred, it would start to repeat “wan die!” in a loop. Dr. Janecek explained to the two fluffies that if they can get the stuffy-friend to say that it wants to die three times, he’d each give them another half bag of apple slices.

The fluffies were confused initially, but after Henry gave the toy a hard squeeze, eliciting “Bad huggies! Huwties!” Charcoal and Stripe began to understand. The fluffies giggled and laughed as they threw the toy across the playpen as its audio device played tracks of a fluffy crying or begging for help. Soon enough, the couple decided to stamp upon the toy. Charcoal, standing on the rear legs, and Stripe on the midsection, began to swiftly bring their hooves down on the toy; who’s cries for help grew louder until it eventually announced “wan die!” in the digitally recorded voice. Charcoal and Stripe smiled even wider, expecting pieces of apple, but Henry reminded them that they had to make the toy say “wan die!” three times before they received the fruit. The fluffies repeated the process another two times; beating, stamping, even biting the toy until it repeated “Wan die! Wan die! Wan die!” in a loop for twenty seconds until turning silent again. Henry, impressed at the fluffies’ willingness to harm a toy that would cause most unconditioned fluffies to cry if asked to harm it, gave Charcoal and Stripe the promised apples slices.

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Bringing himself back to the present, Henry placed his pen down and glanced at the small clock on his desk: 10:37 AM. Broken out of his remembrance of yesterday’s events, Henry donned the light gray overcoat hanging from the hook on his office door as he headed out towards the car. Leaving the driveway, Henry headed towards the University of Virginia campus where he had made a meeting with Dr. Ryang at the Ecology Lab to discuss the choosing and breeding of two feral fluffies for Feral Subject Group #14.

After opening the door to the Ecology Lab, Henry was greeted by Dr. Benajmin Ryang who was slightly bent over one of the lab’s tables as he placed down his surgical instruments.

“Good, Morning, Henry. I apologize for not shaking your hand, but I don’t want to change gloves and potentially contaminate my patient here.” Dr. Ryang announced as Henry joined him near the table.

“Oh, it’s alright, Benjamin. What work are you doing here?” Henry asked, motioning with a lazy roll of the wrist towards the conscious, sobbing brown fluffy who was strapped to a surgical restraint board; its skull opened, and several long steel restraining rods tightened against the fluffy’s skull, just below where its skull was cut open.

“Ah. I am currently attempting to precisely identify the location where a fluffy’s parietal lobe divides from the occipital lobe.” Benjamin replied as he gently rasped the fluffy’s open brain with the rubber tip of a short metal rod. Henry decided to observe for a few minutes before he reminded Benjamin of their appointment. The ferals could wait, and Henry rarely got to see brain surgery happen before him.

The fluffy, lying on its back while strapped tightly onto a metal tray via nylon strap restraints, cried as Dr. Ryang prodded the wrinkles of the fluffy’s brain. Just as with humans and other animals, fluffies have no nerve endings in the brain, so it felt no sensation except for when Dr. Ryang’s prod moved against something in the parietal lobe that affected sensation. Henry watched as Benjamin gently pressed inward on the central core of a ridge in the parietal lobe; the fluffy responded by twitching its front legs.

Hewp! HUhuHUhuHU…… SCREEEEEEE! HEWP! FWUFFY’S WEGGIES AM BUWNIES!” It bleated as Ryang pressed deeper onto the ridge. Retracting the tool, Benjamin jotted new notes as the fluffy calmed down somewhat, confused that its legs were not actually on fire.

“Fascinating.” Benjamin said as he grabbed the prod once more.

This time, Benjamin started to press against the line that he suspected was the divide between the occipital and parietal lobes. Alternating between the presumed areas, Benjamin made note depending on how the fluffy reacted. Certain times the fluffy said, with much sobbing, that his “see-pwaces” were gone and that he saw only “aww-dawkies.” Other times, he cried as Dr. Ryang’s prod pressed against sections in the lower parietal that controlled muscular nerves: causing the fluffy to cry out in agony as it felt that its back muscles were spasming or that its neck was being stabbed. Though of course, the pain was only all in its head. Narrowing his points even more, Dr. Ryang determined an area he felt was the accurate division between both lobes after the fluffy complained about both pain on his sides, and his vision changing color when Benjamin prodded in that area. Satisfied with his findings for his current subject, Dr. Ryang marked the line with a blue permanent marker and took photos of the open brain from several angles. Content with his experiment, Dr. Ryang took out a syringe and a vial of isoflourane from the steel and glass medical cabinet nearby. The fluffy shirked at the sight of the “shawp-dingy”, but had no way of moving as Dr. Ryang injected the mumbling creature with the concentrated anesthetic meant to sedate the fear-stricken feral.

“Well, that was very education Dr. Ryang.” Said Henry as the fluffy, now unconscious, slowly breathed.

“Indeed, Henry. I presume you’d like to take your pick of the lab’s current stock?” Benjamin insinuated as he wrote down the fluffy’s response to the drug. Grabbing a medical staple gun, Dr. Ryang began the process of closing up the fluffy’s skull and skin. This fluffy could still be used for several more experiments before its condition would become unstable.

“Yep. That’s correct.” Henry said as he turned towards the cages of feral fluffies on the wall opposite the door.

Henry observed the thirteen ferals within their cramped cages; enough space to turn around and hold their food troughs and small litter boxes, but little else An adult fluffy, which is about the size of a shih tzu dog, doesn’t require much space to live in, but their will to live can drastically impact their health in the long term. Luckily, most of these ferals were only kept in these cages for a few weeks, a month at most before their existence as lab animals ended. Of those thirteen ferals, three had been used for prior experimentation in the Ecology Lab and couldn’t be used by Dr. Janecek on account of them having previous negative experiences that could affect his study’s results. Looking through the ten available candidates, he bookmarked two ferals of mild temperament and good morale: a green earth mare whose mane was a dark shade of magenta, and a cream-colored unicorn stallion with a black mane. From experience, the fluffies were quiet when being observed by humans, they thought that if they didn’t draw attention to themselves, they wouldn’t be chosen for the next round of experiments. Henry and Benjamin unlocked each of the cages of the two fluffies and placed the squirming, protesting animals into the double-wide carrier Henry had brought with him.

NUU! NU! Nu wan get fowebah-sweepies! Nu wan die! Nu wan hab tummeh-sketties weave fwuffy!” The white unicorn begged as his legs scrambled in an attempt to escape the carrier when he was put in first. The green mare was next.

Pwease hewp, nice mistah. Whubawb am gud fwuffy. Gud fwiffies nu get shawp-huwties.” The green and magenta said to Henry as he opened the carrier gate to toss the mare in.

As Henry opened the carrier door, Benjamin readied a handheld foot-long cattle prod and activated the current a few times to scare the white stallion from any attempts at escape when Henry placed the green mare into the box. The unicorn was sufficiently deterred, backing to the furthest corner of the carrier and soiling himself with urine. The mare and stallion cuddled in fear at the back of the carrier, the smell of urine and excrement began to emanate from the box.

Henry washed his hands at one of the sinks on the laboratory tables due to Rhubarb urinating in his palm as he handled her, then turned to thank Dr. Ryang for his help and allowing him to view the surgical demonstration.

“It was nothing, Henry. You should come by this Wednesday on the seventeenth at 12:00 PM to observe, one of my classes will be performing observation of the species’ nervous system. Oh, and before you go, let me get you those pills you asked me for the other day.” Benjamin opened an equipment cabinet full of pharmaceutical bottles and vials of medicine, pulling out a short white plastic bottle full of small pills.

“This is omestral, it’s an embryonic additive that helps in accelerating fetus development when in the mare’s womb. It should cut the gestation time from four weeks to three weeks, maybe even two and a half, so be watchful. Clinical trials show no increase in miscarriages or stillbirths with its use. One pill should be given by mouth every four days, and you can give her the first dose after twelve hours of the conception.” Benjamin placed the pharmaceutical bottle next to the carrier.

Taking the carrier in hand, and placing the bottle of fluffy fetus accelerant in his courier bag, Henry thanked Dr. Ryang for his help once again and left the building towards his car in the parking lot at Gilmer Hall. Arriving home, Henry brought in his belongings and placed the carrier on the floor of the downstairs hallway next to an under-stair closet. This smaller closet was where Henry had placed the Feral Subject Groups while the mares gestated before they were introduced to the Domestic Subject Groups. Only after the current feral mare’s foals had reached a week out of the womb would the two groups be allowed into the same room. This way, the feral adults were fully emotionally attached their offspring and would be protective of them around strange fluffies. The door to the stairwell closet was opened and the light turned on. Inside was a confined space, but not meager in content.

The floor was dark hardwood, same as the flooring in the rest of the house. The walls were the same off-white cream color that most of the house’s interior was painted in. There was a three-foot-high fluffy gate that not even a newborn foal could wiggle through placed on the interior of the stairwell door jamb. On the floor was a litter box on the right with two yellow polyester cushions further right than it, tucked into the area where the stairs slanted down. On the left side of the stairwell closet were gravity-fed water and food dispensers, and in the center of the room was a light gray fuzzy bathroom mat that took up most of the closet floor space. On the mat were a few foam blocks, a rubber ball, and two foal-sized stuffy-friends. In regards to amenities, the Feral Subject Groups would all have the same amenities that the Domestic Subject Groups would have, just with a smaller space. Placing the carrier inside the stairwell closet, Henry opened the steel door and tilted the box forward slightly, with the two ferals tumbling out and onto the wood floor.

Hu hu. Whubawb hab owwies.” the green mare announced as her jaw bonked the floor on the way out of the carrier; proceeding to rub her jaw with her hooves.

Dummeh hoomin!” The white unicorn shouted curtly after he rolled to a stop against the back wall of the closet. Henry had only lightly tapped the back of the carrier, its merely unfortunate that fluffies are so clumsy.

“Here are the rules” Proclaimed Henry, clapping twice to get the fluffies’ attention. “You will poop in the litterbox. If you do not poop in the litterbox you will temporary be put in a very dark ‘sorry box’. You will eat your kibble. You will not complain, and you will remain relatively quiet. However, you are allowed to have babies. In fact, I want you two to have babies.” The fluffies took great heart in hearing this news. For around a week, they were both alone inside cold, dark cages in the Ecology Lab while they watched other fluffies, or in the white unicorn’s case, members of his herd, be dissected and studied alive and with no anesthetic. The white unicorn even woke up at night occasionally at the lab because the pressure of his “no-no stick” woke him up. Thus, the fact that they were paired with another fluffy who could give them affection and sexually mate with them made the fluffies very optimistic.

The two fluffies were both physically intact, and estimated to be between nine months to a year old each by Henry. The green earth mare, Rhubarb, was almost the same size as the white unicorn stallion. The size of the mare, in addition to her already calling herself by a given name, led Henry to believe that Rhubarb was at some point an owned pet who either was abandoned or simply got lost, and that the white stallion had been a feral for all its life. Henry turned about-face from the two fluffies that were prancing around their new room, and shut the stairwell closet door, locking the sliding bolt. After taking a few steps down the hall he heard the predicable “Pointy-fwiend wan be speciaw-fwiend wif Whubawb? Whubawb wan babbehs! Wan be mummah!” “Yesh, fwuffy wan speciaw-huggies wif Whubawb!” Henry chuckled to himself and walked upstairs to his office. He had little worries about the ferals and their behavior. He didn’t have to control or influence their behavior like he did with the domestic groups. He simply needed to make sure that the two get along and when the mare gave birth, she would be emotionally attached to her foals and take care of them. Even cleaning the stairwell closet would be minimal: Henry had already applied the anti-diarrheal medication to the ferals’ water jug and kibble dispenser. It was now time to make spaghetti and get ready for Film Four.

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The closet door in Henry’s office opened. Greeted by the jovial voices of Charcoal and Stripe, Henry set down the first initial portion of spaghetti for the two domestics. Both of the fluffies ate their pasta and asked their “daddeh” what the “muwie” would be about. Henry replied with a simple witty line: “Physical activity”.

Seventeen minutes and six seconds into the film. Charcoal and Stripe’s reactions have been pleasing to Dr. Janecek. So far, the fluffies had watched over two dozen fluffies beaten to death in various fashions but had only shown any visible empathy when the fluffy on screen was a foal. Such reactions had been expected and the later half of the film was more foal-heavy than the first half.

Twenty minutes and twenty-four seconds. The domestics were heartily enjoying their second bowls of pasta when a new clip began. Upon the screen was a family of unfortunately colored fluffies: one dark yellow stallion, a tan mare, and two adolescent foals, one dark brown, the other a drab olive green. The fluffy family was faced by a group of three large fluffy stallions of varying colors; one blue, one red, one green. The camera angle was so that on each side of the screen you could see the respective groups which were separated by a plexiglass pane inserted through slots into the walls of what could be described as a fluffy ‘arena’. Both groups were contained in a high walled area, around five feet by four feet in area. A few spectators leaned on the wooden walls of the arena and whooped loudly for their favored stallion, apparently betting on which of the three stallions would kill two or more of the badly colored fluffies. Others bet on if the mare or the yellow stallion would be raped to death first, or which competing stallion would eat one of the foals. An announcer counted down. 3… 2… 1…. Upon the counts completion, the plexiglass screen was removed and a whistle was blown, signaling the start of the match.

The three stallions charged forward; their necks taught as they barreled into the terrified fluffy family. The father: the dark yellow stallion, was thrown backwards against the wall of the arena, then surrounded by the red and blue stallions. The yellow fluffy cried, asking if the stallions will be nice to him.

P-p-p-pwease nu huwt fwuffy an speciaw-fwiend an babbehs. Fwuffy wiww gib huggies.” It meekly said, as it tried to hide its face in its hooves.

The stallions would not be nice to him. Blood and viscera splattered the wall as the red and blue stallions viciously stomped the legs of the yellow stallion who was quickly maimed beyond recognition. Meanwhile, the green stallion had already killed the dark brown foal with a single crushing blow with both its front hooves and was now cornering the tan mare whose last foal huddled in terror underneath its mother.

Gib babbeh!” Shouted the green stallion, his two compatriots joining him on each side as the trio stared down the cowering mother as she protected her ‘wastest babbeh'.

The next few minutes were a flurry of violence rarely seen outside of illegal dog fighting rings. The blue stallion charged the mare, knocking her over. Seizing the opportunity, the green stallion pounced upon the dark olive-green foal who was now pleading for his mother to help.

Mummah! Hewp babbeh! Babbeh nu wan huwties! Meanie fwuffies!” It shouted to its mother who was lying on her back as the red and blue stallions approached her.

The green competitor grabbed the last foal with his teeth and brought him to the center of the arena. The stallion sat on his haunches and looked up at the crowd, looking to bask in the praise he received as the attendees shouted his name over and over; “Viridis! Viridis! Viridis!” After a few moments of adulation, the green fluffy pressed his hoof onto the midsection of the olive foal, causing it to defecate onto the sand of the arena.

Yuw am enfie-babbeh fow Viwidis nao.” Viridis stated in a neutral voice as his erection grew.

Entering the foal, which the audience realized was a male, Viridis excitedly screamed in victorious triumph as his member passed all the way through the foal to the point where the agonized fluffy’s rectum had ripped and Viridis’ erection was thrusting in and out through the foal’s coiled small intestine. Lying on the sand, the olive drab foal begged for the ‘poopie-huwties’ to stop, but death would not arrive until eight minutes had passed, until Viridis had ejaculated three times into the foal’s intestinal cavity, until a final heavy hoof from his tormenter had crushed the brutalized foal’s windpipe.

At the same time as Viridis was enjoying his rape victim, the blue stallion, called “Hannibal” by the announcer, and the red stallion, named “Gore”, were having their way with the foal’s mother. Both the stallions had pinned the tan mare onto her back. Hannibal had begun to gnaw at the mare’s back legs as she shrieked in pain. Gore took pleasure in kicking out the mare’s teeth with his hooves, which were wrapped with studded brass bands. After the mare had stopped kicking: her last reserves of strength sapped as Hannibal had snapped the tendons of her back legs, both red and blue stallions began the gruesome task of raping the mare from both ends. The mare, whose mouth was occupied, was able to emit a few low ‘hu-hu’s as she saw her last foal become a sex toy for Viridis. After using the mare several times each, the red and blue pair slowly put the fluffy out of her misery. Gore focused on breaking the mare’s limbs and stamping out her eyes while Hannibal opened up the chest cavity via the soft abdominals and began to consume the lungs and heart. A cheering crowd became ecstatic as the three stallions finished their tortures and assembled at the arena’s gate where they walked through a short caged passageway to their respective carriers where they’d be transported to their rooms for food and rest.

While the brutal footage of the underground “3rd Annual Cleveland Fluffy Fight Fair” played on the screen, Henry took careful measures to give Charcoal and Stripe positive reinforcement as they struggled to watch as the foals were beaten and raped to death. The mare’s death was also particularly hard for Charcoal to watch as she tried to turn away a few times before Henry began to give her spaghetti and cherry flavored treats when she paid attention again. Despite the difficulties, Charcoal and Stripe managed to watch Film Four in one sitting. Henry turned on the lights and ejected the DVD.
“Charcoal, Stripe, that was very good of you! You both were very good fluffies by watching the whole movie, and no one cried! That’s fantastic!” Henry remarked excitedly.

Stripe cheered and Charcoal, who was mostly over her concerns with the deaths she had seen, gave a few “Yay”s as well. Henry praised them again: giving them each another spaghetti treat and gently patted them on their manes before turning off the ceiling lights and closing the door. That night, Charcoal and Stripe did the same thing they did every night; making a fluff-pile with their three foals and dreaming. But this night, their dreams weren’t about running around in green fields. Their “sleepy-pictures” were about stomping out the intestines of crying fluffies. They dreamed about laughing as an injured foal slowly crawled away from them. They dreamed about violating another fluffy as it begged for death. But Charcoal and Stripe did not wake up in a panic, yelling about “bad sweepie-pictuwes”. These were no longer nightmares to them; these were becoming dreams.
Uploader Catharsis,
Tags abuse academic_studies author:catharsis catharsis charcoal enfie_babbeh henry_janecek psychological_abuse rape rhubarb stripe text
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Comments

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Catharsis: Part 5 of Academic Studies. Apologies for the white unicorn's dialogue blending in too much. I'll change that next time so it's more visible. I forgot that the site has a light gray background.
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Anonymous1: Love the series!

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Gmonty: Good work. Wonder what would be the future for the three foals
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Anonymous2: Fwuffy am wanna watch de mobie bout enfie babbeh an mama wape.
Dis fwuffy nono stick am happy. Yay