Review #171

Harvest Time

Story by Alex Reynard

Review by Ray

To christen our new site, I want to review something special. That something, ladies and gentlemen, is Alex Reynard. Alex Reynard wrote a story called Death Penis Boogaloo: That's not today's review. Alex Reynard wrote a story called Magnetic Rape Burritos: That's not today's review. So when I tell you that I chose Harvest Time as Alex Reynard's most heinous short story, please be aware that it wasn't for a lack of other options.

Welcome to everybody—take a double dose of Fukitol and stay a while, we'll try to make it as painless as possible.

Harvest Time

a yiffy snuffie tale by Alex Reynard



In the days of man, fur farms were quite possibly the most hellish pits of unimaginable cruelty on the face of the earth.


Alright, let’s skip ahead a bit, I want to get straight to the good part . All you need to know is that:

The twist here is that instead of being the most hellish pits of unimaginable cruelty on the face of the earth, fur farms now exist, and I quote:

in a form so radically altered as to be the total antithesis of its past incarnation. Technology had advanced to the point where it was possible to keep the fur business alive, but with every last trace of pain and cruelty wiped away.

So hell, I’m curious: what in the everloving fuck does that entail? Let’s find out—


Hey guys! Whats up?


I smell a furry story!


The secret to making the best furs, Papa knew, was to love his little cubs as much as possible.

Is this a sequel Cub Training Institute?

I’ve searched around the globe of the internet for that sequel so Ray finding it in 5 seconds wouldn’t surprise me.

Unfortunately, there is no official sequel. But as far as spiritual successors go… this is it.

What have I gotten myself into?

The best night of your life.

To let them know they were safe and special and beautiful and cared for.

Well this doesn’t look like that bad of a story.

Wait for it...

This love would make even the scruffiest coats transform, as if by magic, into perfect, luxurious pelts.



There it is.

This isn’t a sequel to CTI, it’s a fucking sequel to Cupcakes, fur coat edition.

This secret method seeped through even to the final product. Many of Papa's customers told of an inexplicable feeling of sudden happiness overcoming them the instant they put on one of his fur coats.



We just started!

Uhm… about that human leather….


Anything to add Fluff?

I’m still wondering if this really is a sequel to Cupcakes.



Oh so Fluff gets the love tap, while Ray and I got our asses kick. I see how it is.


I can do much worse.

And now came the moment that Papa Gregory loved best. His little foxes lined up again under his inspecting eye, proud of their adorable young bodies.


Seems about right.

For the record, not all furry fiction involves cubs…..just 40% of it.

He told them that they were all perfect and ready to be harvested. They smiled big proud foxy smiles.


I wonder what Papa would do if they weren’t smiling.

Shhh, stop poking holes in the story. There are enough already.

The pudgy badger wandered about within the large room, making sure that all the machines were ready for operation. Everything looked fine. He had plenty of technicians on his staff to make sure his miraculous machines were always in tip-top condition, but Papa always liked to do as many harvestings as possible himself. Seeing the expressions of trust and excitement on the little cubs' faces was the best part of the job.

Why is it that the creepiest fucking stories always have to be written good.

Please hand me the dictionary that contains the word “good” pertaining to this. It needs to be burned.


Thank you.

When everything was ready, Papa Gregory led the little ones over to the first machine.


They grinned and fidgeted excitedly. They all knew what this machine would do. All four of their small penises were out and fiercely erect. Four little fox cocks pointing up in the air.


Papa picked one boy at random and ushered him forward. The first machine looked somewhat like a telephone booth split in half vertically.

If this turns into Doctor Who fanfiction I’m deleting our website.

But we just finished it!

It’s okay: we’ll just relocate to

I am OK with this.

The young fox stepped in and placed his feet in two indentations in the padded rubber floor.

I am not comfortable with the fact that it’s a rubber floor. Why is the cub standing on a rubber floor?

Easier to clean cum stains I’m told...


That’s exactly what I was afraid of.

Immediately, metal clamps with soft leather interiors emerged and clapped around his ankles to position him correctly. At just the right height there was a black, rubber-lined hole in the back of the machine. The boy knew just what this was for. He slipped his genitals inside without hesitation.

This boy knows what he’s doing, and that fact alone scares me.

The machine hummed. The rubber hole expanded and contracted, fitting itself comfortably around the boy's cock and balls, enclosing as much of them as comfortably possible in its grip. The little fox moaned.

Definitely frightened to death.

The hole began to undulate. Soft squeaky rubber caressed the little penis like a loving mouth.

…with teeth?

The boy put his arms up over his head into two more padded indentations. More clamps secured his arms in place and another moved behind him to support his back. This was not to hold him fast, but to gently prop him up. The clamps were all pressure-sensitive so the boy could easily break away with the slightest of struggles.

I’m sure having your dick sucked by a machine will make you struggle slightly, maybe even more.

Papa Gregory believed firmly in never forcing his young ones through any step of the process. They could stop and back out at any time.

What a nice sadomasochistic.

To be fair, I think we have the same policy when it comes to our reviews.

The young fox moaned and bucked his hips into the motion of the machine, pressing himself further, wanting even more of his meat to be gobbled up by that wonderful rubber hole.

Such amazing technology waisted. They should have made tentacles.

That’s the last thing this story needs Hent.

You’re right. Save the best part for last. Good thinking.

The other three looked upon the sight with almost tangible anticipation. Papa Gregory had to tap them on the shoulders and give them a wink more than a few times to stop them from pawing off.

Speaking of which, I’m keeping an eye on you three: no jerking off to anything we make fun of. Unless it’s a swimsuit edition.

[Editor’s Note: See review #163!]


Hent, you jerk off to cub fics?

Sorry Fluff, just remembering the best idea I ever had for a review.

After all, they'd need those erections soon enough when it was their turn.


The machine wasn't just stimulating the boy, it was also collecting important data on the size and shape of his organs. This would determine exactly what would become of his genitals once they were removed.


There’s no escaping Warnuts, you’re sticking to this to the end.

One day I’ll figure a way out of this cage.

Well despite all your rage, you are still just a rat in a cage.

And you still a bitch that cried at the end of Angel Beats.


Only the manliest of men are willing to shed a tear.

The little fox let out a long howl of ecstacy.


His orgasm was fast approaching!

The machine sent out a little suction cup which fastened to the tip of his penis.



The fox shouted out in pleasure and came!

A hungry pump slurped up every last ounce of the precious boy semen, vacuuming it right out of his balls.

The young boy gritted his teeth and 'merf'ed at the intense situation.

Fluff. Care to explain what “merf’ed” means?

You can say it’s the dog’s version of a cat’s purr.

Got it. I can’t wait to forget it.

When his balls were empty,

And after a scene like that, whose wouldn’t be?

there was a swift flash of heat across his genitals. Then the machine released him.

Papa was there to catch the little fox as he stumbled backwards out of the machine, panting and smiling and totally satisfied. The little one's crotch was now completely smooth. There was just a patch of perfect pink skin between his legs.

...the machine takes off your dick?


Furry fiction has no mercy for the weak.

If you’ll excuse me; I’m going to cry myself to sleep like a true man.

You misspelled bitch.

The boy looked down and pronounced the sight; 'Cool!'

See Hent, the kids enjoying himself, I mean, he won’t be enjoying himself anymore, but at least he’s happy about it.

I have a feeling that classical conditioning is at play here.

Frankly, Alex Reynard missed an opportunity by not making them dogs.

The other three boys watched in fascination as their friend's package was slurped up by the machine and went swooshing up a clear rubber tube up through the ceiling.

Papa asked who wanted to go next, and all three boys surged forward.

Once it was decided who would go next (they played rock-paper-scissors),


Oh thank God, I don’t think the story would be complete with this crucial detail.

the second boy stepped happily into the machine and cooperatively let the clamps position him.

Please keep your hands, legs, tails, and dicks inside the ride at all times. Thank you.

He ended up having an even more intense experience than his friend. The machine determined that his parts would be better sold as parts instead of a whole.

I was about to say that Alex needs to get laid, but the thought of him reproducing scares me.

I may pretend to be a health professor but I don’t think that's how it works.

After all, Gregory's Fine Furs did not sell just furs.

It sold cupcakes.

For starters, cub cum was a valuable commodity.


All of the little ones on the fur farm donated their cum whenever they could. It made a delicious ingredient in many recipes, as well as a tasty treat when drank as-is.


God damn furries getting there semen in my unhealthy genetically processed food. Now I actually have to cook.


Cub genitals also had many uses. Some boys had theirs removed whole. These would become a particularly special cut of meat, or preserved and used as sex toys.

Why not just buy a dildo then… There’s no reason for these kids to lose their junk!

However, sometimes a particular set would do better when separated into its component pieces. Penises could be put to all sorts of uses. Boy balls were considered a delicacy, or were gilded and made into jewelry.

“Oh my God, Stacy are those new ball rings, lucky!”

“Oh my God betch, they like totally are! Steven is like, the best boyfriend ever! He also got me a twelve-year-old’s deck!”

“Oh my God no way!”

“Oh my God like totally!”

And the matchlessly soft fur of sheaths and scrotums made perfect lingerie, glove linings and coin purses.


As the second fox was masturbated by the machine, a laser beam split his scrotum


almost without him noticing.


This story does not set well with me... 


I feel much better.

Special cups held his testicles out from their previous home. As soon as he came, his cum was sucked up, the cords of his testes were snipped, his sheath and scrotum were cut in such a way so they simply fell away from his penis, and his cock was removed with a single, neat slice of the laser.

I am very curious about how Alex Reynard thinks lasers work.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that there's a big internet cable that runs the length of the ocean.

The second boy wobbled out of the machine with a goofy smile on his face and his tongue hanging out. He appeared both proud and contented to look down and see that his maleness was gone.

Really? Not even, like, mildly disappointed? If I lost mine, would at least let out a very bothered sigh.

I would be out of a job...and a life style.

Boys three and four were both chopped intact, so they were treated to the sight of their genitals zooming up into the ceiling just like the first boy.

Now that they had all cheerfully given their boyparts, it was time for the second machine.

There’s more!?!

Papa Gregory picked another boy at random and helped him up into machine number two.

It was like an operating table, except with a smooth, boy-shaped indentation in the center.

A “boy shaped” operating table. Warnuts, why the fuck don’t I drink?

Ah you silly bitch, that’s what Animinneapolis is for.

I told you I’m not going to drink there… but after reading this I’ll consider it.

Shout out to the one person from Minnesota who mildly understands what we’re talking about.

The little fox's tail was wagging as he settled down into the comfortable groove. The cool leather interior of the indentation felt good on his naked fur.

Papa gave the boy a kiss on the forehead.


He thanked him for giving so generously of himself,

Well that just got culty all of a sudden.

then turned on the machine.

Instantly, it began to vibrate like a massage chair. The boy let out a small yelp as seven tiny needles pricked him at once. He knew that this was the only part of the whole procedure that would involve any pain, and it was over in an instant anyway.

Let's see… need an excuse to leave this review… what could I use...

What about the author being a fucking liar? And I quote:

Technology had advanced to the point where it was possible to keep the fur business alive, but with every last trace of pain and cruelty wiped away.

And yet, pain.

...naaaaaa. The boss will never take that as an excuse. Needs to be more convincing.

The needles had injected a very special chemical; one that made the entire fur industry possible. As the boy relaxed and let the vibrations loosen him up all over, the chemical injection was going to work, spreading throughout his body. Two lasers crisscrossed in the blink of an eye around the fox's neck, halting the spread of the chemical before it could reach his head.

Hay Ray? I need to go home. Waifu has a really bad..aaaa….stain! And if I don’t clean it now it won't ever come out.


You’re excused.

Yes! See you later suckers! Let’s go Waifu!


Back so soon?


The chemical's job was to dissolve the bonds between certain layers of the boy's skin.

So not only do you get your dick chopped off, but you get your fur removed as well

If that happens are they still a furry?


I don’t know.

They’re fucking gangster is what they are.


It worked quickly and painlessly.

As the table increased the vibrations, the boy's skin got looser and looser.

I don’t think that’s how biology works.

Soon, the others could see it shaking around like baggy folds of clothing.


The boy murred quietly to himself. The sensation was wonderfully calming.

I don’t think that’s how… “insert literally anything about this story” works!  

When the machine was done, the vibrations slowed slowly down and finally stopped.


Precision lasers sketched a series of lines across his backside.

I think I know where he got all of his scientific knowledge from.



Also, I don’t know what the lasers are sketching on his back, but I hope it’s a sailboat.


The boy knew what would happen as soon as he stood up, and he was alternately interested and a little bit scared.

Papa Gregory held out his big furry paw to the boy. He gave him a gentle, encouraging smile.

The boy was ready now. He wanted to do this. For Papa.

Obligatory reference.

For the wonderful man who had given him such a happy life. He loved knowing he could give his own body back in return.

I do NOT like where this is going.

I MIGHT like where this is going.

Well I’m with Fluff: I do NOT like where this is going one bit. And I’ve read ahead.


Shut up Yellow.

He took Papa's paw and the instant he sat up, his fur fell off like a heavy blanket.

The boy got to his furless feet and gaped in amazement. His pelt was lying there on the table without him! He was now completely smooth and pink below the neck. He still had a very thin layer of skin left; just enough to cover his muscles and keep him from feeling discomfort.





How is Breaking Bad relevant—


He did feel extremely tender all over though. Papa knew there was no time to wait while the other boys went through machine number two. The boy waved goodbye to his fur as the table tipped up and let the fluffy pelt drop down into a collection chute that emerged from the floor. Then Papa led him by the hand to machine number three.





Ah, much better. Nothing cures capslock rage like a bottle of Fukitol.

The second boy was already getting up onto the table and waiting for it to start vibrating.

Papa Gregory gave the little depilated fox a long, gentle hug. He thanked him without needing words for the deep sacrifice the boy was willing to make for him.

The little fox smiled and snuggled up to the gentle badger. He kissed him on the cheek, and said with his eyes, 'I'm ready'.


Papa Gregory opened the door to the third machine and helped the little cub step up into it.

The door shut with a hydraulic wheeze. Almost immediately, vents opened in the sides and the boxy glass rectangle began to fill with a clear fluid slightly thicker than water. The foxboy cooed as it puddled around his toes. It felt very soothing on his raw skin!


A hose with a mouthpiece on the end dropped from above and the boy took it and placed it in his mouth. As soon as he bit down, it inflated slightly so that it would stay in his mouth by itself.

Prosthetic oral cub knotting inflation, that’s what this story was missing.


A small plastic cap fit over his nose and sealed it off too. The fox looked out and could see his friend on the table now, grinning as vibrations made his fur shake all over.

The clear fluid quickly filled the little glass box. It was a sterilizing chemical mixed with a nerve agent that flip-flopped the boy's pain receptors, turning pain into pleasure.




As soon as it was up over his eartips, the final preparation began. This was the machine that would butcher him for meat.

Wouldn’t an adult be better for that. Seeing how they would have more meat?


That’s it I’m done!

A web of plastic tubes snaked out from the sides of the machine like tentacles

God damn it Hent.


 and gently ensnared the boy. Tiny lasers sprang to life and began to dance about the boy's body, carving him up more finely than any knife blade ever could.

¿What about a laser knife?

The boy murred and giggled at the tickly feeling of the beams crisscrossing.

The butchering phase was designed to be fun and exciting for the cub, as well as keeping them alive as long as possible.

Wouldn’t you save a lot of money if you just put the fucker down?

The little fox's tummy was opened up first.

> tummy

A vacuum tube emerged and began to diligently remove his intestines. The young fox watched in amazement as his guts were swallowed up by the machine, and it didn't hurt a bit!

The machine left behind just his lungs and heart. That was all that was needed to sustain life for now.

Well clearly nobody in this story needs their goddamn brain.

Then the lasers went to work on his body. For the boy, it was just a quick tingling sensation, then some part of him would go numb. First came his tail. Swoosh! It was gone in a flash. Then, while the tube web held him gently but firmly in place, his feet were taken next. The boy 'yiff'ed at feeling his paws go away forever.


The cutting continued up his body. His tender calves and succulent thighs were both separated and taken away by the machine. It also neatly severed his hands.


One moment he was clenching his fingers in a fist at the intense, wonderful feelings the machine was giving him, and then suddenly they were gone, as if by magic! He was being taken apart, just like a toy.

“Just like a sentient, conscious, fully-lucid toy. Magic!”

The little fox boy closed his eyes and relaxed into a pleasant daze as more and more of him was removed. His buttocks,

Just say ass. Honestly, at this point, what on Earth could possibly be stopping you from saying ass?

his belly, his back, his arms and shoulders: all became choice cuts of boy meat and were taken away. Until all of him that was left was his head, heart and lungs.

A small single headphone emerged from above and gently entered the boy's ear. With vibrations adjusted for being underwater, it played, perfectly clear, the voice of Papa Gregory saying a final 'I love you'.


Then the last laser cuts were made. The heart and lungs were taken. And the boy became quiet and still.

Papa Gregory and the three other boys (one furless) watched as the machine drained of its fluid and the door opened. Papa reached inside and tenderly took the boy's head in his paws.

What are you fucks to good for the head.

The old badger placed a kiss on the little fox's forehead. He sat the last of the boy down on a special table, with spaces for three more boy heads.

The furless boy felt a rush of emotions. A small twinge of fear, but mostly love for Papa Gregory, and the enthusiasm of giving himself.

Papa hugged the fox, then helped him up into the machine.

Welcome to the Machine is an awesome progressive rock song by Pink Floyd—it is now forever ruined by association to this fucking story.

Soon there were four small heads on the table. All of them had their eyes closed, smiling peacefully, as if taking a nice afternoon nap.

Papa smiled wistfully at his four beautiful boys. Once more he told them he loved them, even though they couldn't hear him anymore.

He pressed the button that activated the fourth machine.

Clamps rose from the table and held the boy's heads in place. A tube rose up inside each of them and began to delicately remove their minds.

I regret my last statement.

Cub heads were a favorite home decoration or conversation piece for many fursons.

So what was all that about humans being the worst things ever?

Most homes had at least one little boy or girl's head hanging serenely on the wall, or sitting cutely on a table. Some fursons even got the option to make sex toys from them,

Of course they did.


so they could have their own little cub head to suck them off whenever they wanted.

The four foxes' grey matter flowed down a long tube, deep below the floor, into the fifth and final machine, the most complicated one of all...


Exactly fifteen days later, the lids opened on four sleep-pods, and four newly reborn foxboys began to awake.






Other than that I have no opinion.

They yawned and stretched, their new bodies feeling tender and strange.


Yeah, I’ll fucking bet.

Their muscles ached, and their eyes were sensitive to the room's dim light. Understandable, since this was the first time they'd ever used them.

Gentle staff members in white lab coats surrounded the boys,

Oh God, this isn’t the sequel to Cub Training Institute—it’s the prequel!


patting them on the back proudly, hugging them, kissing them, thanking them for their wonderful gift to the fur farm. They boys all lapped up the attention.

For most of them, they'd gone through the harvesting process so many times now they'd lost count.


After their rebirth, they went through one week of physical therapy and then they were as good as new once more. They returned to the dorms and got to tell all their friends about their latest experience. It would take three more months before their bodies were ready to go through the machines again, but many of the little ones wished it didn't even take that long, so they could give themselves again and again and again.

You’re making Kim Jong Un jelus.

Soon, Papa Gregory came into the room and gave all the boys lots of affection. Shouts of happiness filled the room.

And as the little ones sat around on special cushioned chairs, Papa Gregory displayed all the beautiful fur garments the boys' skins had become. All of them felt proud and glad to have helped create such beautiful clothes. Their bright orange fur glinted like pure sunshine.

All in favor of emailing this story to Proud Housewife?


Well I seem to be the only one still here so fuck it, the motion carries.

The End

for now…


We’re The Retributionists, this is our new website, and I’m going to go drink bleach until my brain forgets this fucking story ever existed.