Donald Duck

When I was 18 I travelled around Europe in the early 90's and found a cash in ** on the outskirts of Marseille at a small facility for a couple of month that was involved with in Downing. The job entailed me to live pluck feathers from livestock, force feed them and fix up a barn that was falling to pieces.

The plucking of feathers would happen 2-3 times in the ducks short lifespan, force feeding would happen to ducks older then 8 or so weeks, then they would be moved to another section of barn.

The Force feeding of a Duck/Geese consist of a tube being inserted 5 inches down it throat (this is called Gavage) and the machine to be set to 2 pounds of grain for each feed to flood their stomachs this is performed 2-3's a day and after the duck will become bloated this will happen for 15-18 days until the ducks liver increases 10 times it's normal size

In all the thousands of ducks that came to the farm there was this one ugly duckling that came in, he was white and grey lumps on his head and it ** me off seeing it all the time.

I was the only one working there at the time and I got a way with all sorts as long has the owner got his monthly quota he was happy. So I ripped his feathers like I did to all the other birds but left this one completely bald (normally don't need the feathers from the wings or ** region) and sprayed a massive blue 'D' on his back for Donald the Duck original I know.

I Plucked Donald's feathers out in massive chunks even the feathers from his wings and didn't sow up his wounds, I sprayed him with ammonia from the tool shed causing him to have little sore red burns all over his body which he constantly tried to peck at.

Donald would hide in the corners of the barn cell when I showed up for work in the mornings, he would tremble in absolute fear trying to make him self look small and invisible to me has I approached him.

Donald would often fright ** himself and use the other ducks to hide under but they would step aside and leaving him to his fate it's like they knew he was marked, any duck that got in my way I kicked across the cell and subject them to similar punishments.

All ducks had to have there beaks trimmed with a hot-blade, Donald had his trimmed back further then the rest I left the hot blade on his beak for the longest possible time, leaving him with problems when getting water and when he did get close to the water teat I would kick him away allowing other ducks to fill his possible position.

I threw stones at him, I even let him fall into the cesspool below afew times and watched him roll around in the other ducks ** for hours on end. Some times I would bring in a female duck from the caged breeding area and watch the male ducks fight over her, the winner would try and mount her then when he did I would kick him clean off of her causing him much frustration then take the female away. Donald never had a chance with her he could not compete with the over aggressive males mostly because he was too weak and ugly lol.

When he finally made it to 8 weeks and came his time to be force feed, I would force 3 pounds of grain down him per time over the weeks Donald became very fat and fatigued he would lay on his back most days panting away awaiting his next meal.

One summers evening I returned to my on site lodging with beer in hand and cig in mouth and decided to check on the ducks only to find all the ducks trying to sleep in one corner apart from Donald. He was a sight for sore eyes, slumped on his back in the corner all alone, gasping for breath, completely featherless, chemically burnt to ** and all hurting from black bruising from off my steel capped boots, ** stains all up and down his legs and webbed feet, his little panicked head peered up at me over the top of his big red swollen belly and best part of all his featherless small ** ring on display.

He trembled in fear as I walked over to him trying to use his feather less wings to roll him self over onto one side while ** himself, I tipped some of my left over beer on his face. I was actually surprised he made it this long so I decided to go place my beer down and go fetch one of the female ducks in and place her close to him, if you have never seen a ducks ** before well It looks like a corkscrew and its about 9 inches long hosepipe best way I can describe it, I could see Donald get aroused has member grew he wanted to mount her.

I picked up my beer bottle and started to rub the drinking end around Donald's ** ring has he made this weird gasping sound much different to his panting sound I had heard over the recent day. Donald's ** immediately tightened like he was protesting the invasion lol. I pushed a bit hard in a circular motion with the bottle and gently messaged it open... I then stocked him and myself has rammed the bottle up his ** and Donald made his horrible shriek in pain has his head flapped every where when I twisted the bottle around I could hear his ** tearing inside, I then removed my cigarette and subbed it on his wafer string ** causing it to immediately retract like a spring the screeching only got worse.

The other ducks just watched him and didn't even try and help him or see if he was okay, I returned the female and left the bottle jammed in his ** for awhile I sobered up then returned later to remove the bottle leaving Donald with a gapping wide hole.

Donald died 2 days later I believe it was from the ** injury but I found his body in the other corner lifeless, fun while it lasted the Job got boring so I moved on.

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