“Coo~ coo~”
An orange foal cries in delight as his ‘mummah’ gives him lickie cleanies. The mummah, orange as well, but with a yellow mane, then sits up and claps her forehooves together.
“Teehee! Mummah wubs hew coo-in’ babbeh! Coo~ coo~!”
The orange foal, sits up and joins in on the clapping with his mother.
“Coo~ coo~! Wub mummah!”
They are surrounded by other foals, romping and playing with toys and each other on a pink rug, surrounded by a purple ‘Fluff-proof’ fence as high as the average persons waist. There were 2 other fenced in areas as well, each with their own set of foals and two adult fluffies in each, surrounded by sparse shelving of fluffy products.
This place is Mummah’s Nursery, a local mom and pop owned fluffy shop, renowned for raising the most satisfied and happy foals around. The babies are mainly bred in house with the two adult fluffies in each safe-area, and raised with all the love and care the owners could give them, as they grow into wonderful walkie-tawkie babbehs, and the lucky colts or fillies getting a new forever home, with a new loving family. They’re sold off as soon as they become walkie talkies, as the shop filled the niche of selling foals to grow up with the family that buys them.
The orange foal is now at the age where he is added to the catalog of adoptables, and has been carefully raised to accept and want a new home. So the little foal was excited to see what his life had in store for him. Having been told how wonderful it is to have a hoomin mummah or daddeh, he would find himself day dreaming about it randomly. He would wonder if they would have lots of toys, and want to play all the time! If they would have tasty treaties, and-and even sketties! Even though he’s never had them, he’s heard the tales of the sweet ambrosia that is sketties, and it sent shivers down his spine. But most of all, he wondered if his new mummah or daddeh would love him as much as his now-mummah.
Oh how he loved his mummah, and how much it tickled her to hear his coos, and to hear her sweet coos back. He was her special cooing baby, and he knew he would miss those sweet coos from his mummah. With a look of uneasy, he stops clapping and looks up into his mother’s eyes.
“Mummah…?” He quietly addresses her. She stops her clapping as well, and looks down at her orange colt.
“Yus, babbeh?” She replies, her eyes meeting his, causing him to shyly look away.
“Weww… wen babbeh hab tu gu wif nyu famiwy, can… can mummah cum wif? Pwe’? Chirp!”
“Babbeh…” she begins to say, her loving smile fading to one of understanding, and perhaps longing. She reaches down and picks the orange colt up, and softly brings him into an embrace. “Babbeh, mummah wubs hew coo-in’ babbeh bewy muchies, awways wiww,” she says hugging him a tad tighter. “Buh, nu…,” she answers, while pulling him softly from her huggies, and setting him back down in front of her.
Small tears begin to swell in the colts eyes, before asking, “buh-buh… why nu? Huu… nu wub babbeh nu mowe? Ba-babbeh c-can gib mu-mummah c-c-coo-ooo f-fow w-wub… Peep! Huuhuuhuu!” The colt begins to cry heartily, thrashing his tiny leggies on the floor all the while.
The colt’s mother’s expression saddens, and she reaches over and softly bops her colt on the head, shocking him from his tantrum. “Stop dat! 'Ou gib mummah wowest heawt saddies wen babbeh say dat! Mummah wubs hew babbehs, AWW hew babbehs!” A small look of realization begins to form on the colts shocked expression. “Oddew babbehs nee’ mummah, tuu… babbehs dat am tuu widdwe fow wawkies, ow tawkies, ow-ow famiwies…” She then begins to lightly pet the colt’s head. “Mummah awways wiww wub hew coo-in’ babbeh, hab biggest saddies wen babbeh gu… buh habbin’ hoomin famiwy am da bestest fing eba! Babbeh nee’s hoomin tu wub, fow hoomin tu wub babbeh. Hoomin wub is mow wub dan fwuffy can gib. Dewe am sumfings onwy hoomins can gib tu fwuffies, su babbeh shud be happeh to get chancies fow hoomin famiwy. Otay?” She smiles softly at the colt, who, through soft sniffles, slowly returns his own smile.
“Otay, mummah… babbeh unnastans…,” he trails off, his smile growing. “Coo~ coo~! Wub mummah! Coo~ coo~!”
“Teehee! Coo~ coo~! Wub babbeh!” The mother shouts, as she happily begins clapping again, too which the colt joins in on as well.
Suddenly they are alerted to a bell ringing, signifying someone opening the door to the shop. They look over and see a man in the door way. He was tall, but skinny, and had a disheveled appearance, with long, greasy hair that somewhat obscured his dark eyes, and the bags underneath. He wore a long sleeved shirt and pants, showing only his pale bony hands coming from his sleeves, with bits of brown gunk under his nails. Immediately they saw one of the owners, ‘Big Mummah’ as the fluffies knew her as, come to greet him, as the fluffies and foals in each safe-area came closer to the fence to get a better look. The orange foal could see him smiling, surprisingly warmly, with even ‘Big Mummah’ laughing, as they spoke.
“Ahh, well, let me know if you need anything or see something you like!” He heard Big Mummah say as she walked away, with him giving her a nod, as he started walking towards the safe-area to the right of the colt’s own safe-are.
The colt then looks back over at his mummah, and sees that she’s now standing up.
“C’mon, babbeh! Maybe be nyu daddeh!” His mother says to him giddily, causing him to get to his feet, for them to walk over to the fence to get a better look.
When they get closer, they see the man inspecting the various colts and fillies, as they prance around trying to get the man’s attention, as the foals have all had the same behavior training towards getting a new family as the colt has. The man’s shoddy appearance slightly unnerves the colt, although he doesn’t know why, and now that he’s closer he can smell strong oder of smoked cigarettes, though he doesn’t quite know what that smell is either. He starts to back up into his mother when all of a sudden he hears a specific noise coming from the man.
“Coo. Coo.”
Instinctively, the orange colt responds in kind.
“Coo~ coo~”
The man then perks his head up, and looks in the direction of the foal, startling him with his piercing gaze. Unable to look away, the colt starts to lightly shiver, before he notices the man’s mouth beginning to widen into a grin. The grin then begins to soften, as does the man’s eyes, which begins to ease the colt’s fear, though not entirely, before walking over to his safe-area’s fence and squatting down next to the colt on the otherside.
“Coo. Coo,” the man starts again, as he slowly puts his finger just over the bars of the fence next to the colt. The orange colt, begins to walk backwards into his mother again, before being stopped by her, as she then pushes the colt closer to the man’s finger, his muzzle almost touching it. He looks frantically back to his mother, who only smiles with her eyes seemingly shut. He turns back and sniffs the finger, and realizes that it actually smells good! The man, unknowingly to the foal, had washed his hands, poorly, with a mild lavender soap, to keep the stale smell of cigarettes from bothering the foals. Slowly, the man reaches a little further, and begins to pet the colts head, reminding him of the way his mummah does it.
“Coo~ coo~,” the colt gleefully cries, eyes shut comfortably, as he receives the loving pets. Maybe momma is right, he thinks to himself.
The man continues petting the colt, as he thinks to himself. Damn, this one would be perfect. If only his mane had started to grow in, he would be on the list to be adopted, but… Wait… One of the man’s eyebrows begins to rise, as he inspects the top of the colts head, disguised as petting. Hot damn, he’s a mono fluffy. Orange fluff and mane… he continues to think to himself, as his smile seemingly begins to curl on itself.
“Hee hee hee… Coo. Coo,” the man giggles and coos to the mono orange colt, as the colt begins rubbing his head into the pets, like he was a cat, before sitting in his haunches and reaching out to hug the finger.
“Coo~ coo~! Wub… be babbeh nyu daddeh?”
“Hee hee hee… Coo. Coo… I love you,” The man replied back, causing the foal to squeal and coo happily in response. The man then pulls his finger away slowly, and stands up, before walking to the counter where Big Mummah stood behind.
The orange colt then turns around to his mummah, and waddles quickly over to her embrace excitedly.
“Chirp! Mummah! Babbeh git nyu daddeh? Mummah am pwoud? Coo~ coo~,” he asks cheerfully into her fluff between her crotch tits, as he hugs her tightly.
“Yus… mummah am pwoud ob hew speshul coo-in’ babbeh…” she trails off, as she slowly looks over at the man finalizing the sale of her babbeh to him. She knows she should be happy for him, as hoomin daddehs are the best ever! Or, at least, that’s what she told her precious baby. Though, that man made her feel uneasy when she looked at him, and she silently hoped that everything she told her colt was true, as she reached down and returned his hug. “Hewe, dwink mummah’s miwkies, wun wast time… sniffle,” she said, stifling a sob as she pulled him in front of one of her nipples, as the orange colt begins to slowly wrap his mouth around it, and begin sucking down his mother’s milk.
“Smek, smek, smek”
“Coo~ coo~, mummah wub babbeh, babbeh wub mummah. Babbeh coo~ coo~ fow mummah, coo~ coo~ fow miwkies, mae’ coo-in babbeh big an’ stwong!” His mummah sang, tearfully, one last time.
“smek, smek, smek Coo~ coo~ smek, smek, smek”
Time nearly stood still in that moment for them, enjoying the gifts of life they had brought to each other. Alas, it wasn’t to be forever, as the man came back with a small cage in one hand, and a bag of supplies in the other. He stood there over them for a moment, allowing their moment to linger a little longer, before squatting down, as well as setting the things down.
“Coo. Coo. Hee hee hee… It’s time to go with daddy, baby…” The man says, his hand reaching out to the baby. The colt gulps down his last sips of milk, before popping off his mother’s tit.
“Smek smek smek… pop haff…” he breathes a sigh of content. He turns and looks at the man’s hand, before turning back to his mother and hugging her as tightly as he can. “Coo~ coo~. Wub mummah… babbeh wiww miss 'ou,” he tells her. She looks down at him and smiles lovingly.
“Mummah knyos, mummah wiww miss hew speshul widdwe coo-in’ babbeh. Mummah wiww awways wub coo-in’ babbeh, sniffle,” she says, before looking up at the man with soft, scared eyes. “Pwease wub coo-in’ babbeh, and taek gud cawe ob babbeh. D-d-dun wet babbeh hab any huwties, ow-ow saddies… Pwomise?” The man looks at the mother with a grin.
“I promise to love him more than he’s ever been loved before,” he replies. She looks at him, before closing her eyes and smiling.
“Dank 'ou…”
She was not reassured by his words, but sadly, she had to let her son go. So with her eyes still shut, she gently nudges her son to the man. Maybe she had her eyes closed to keep in the tears. Maybe it was because she couldn’t bare to watch her son leave with this man. Either way, the man softly grasps the colt, placing him in the palm of the man’s hand, and bringing him over the fence. The colt looks back to see his mother waving, and presumably his father walking up beside her to see him off. The man then turns to the carry cage and opens it up, before shoving the unsuspecting foal inside and locking it shut.
“SKREEEE! Nuuu! Nu wan sowwy boxie, huuhuu, chirp!” The colt screams to his captor, as he runs up to the bars of front. He frantically looks to both of his birth parents for help, as he begins to hyperventilate. His mother just covers her face with her hooves, while his father runs up to the fence to try to reassure him.
“It am otay! It nu am sowwy boxie, it am cawwy boxie, it am gud fing!” His father shouts, as the man begins to pick up the carry box in one hand and the bag in the other. Curiously, he picked the box up with the front facing behind the man, so the foal could watch as he got farther and farther from his old family. His father continues to chase after, as best as he could going around the fence, shouting his goodbyes, as the foal continues to cry and tap at the bars of the carry cage. “Daddeh an mummah wub babbeh bewy muchies, hope babbeh am happies and hab wots ob–Ring” he was cut off by the bell of the door, as the new pair walked out the door before the father could even finish.
“Guh-bye mummah an daddeh… chirp! Huuhuu…” he cried, as he calmed down a little and laid down, trying to be quiet as he sobbed.
This wasn’t his first time in a sorry box, but his second. And even though this wasn’t a sorry box, there was no difference in his mind. His first time was because of bullying one of his siblings.
In Mummah’s Nursery, there was supposed to be no ‘bestest’ babies. But the colt was his mummah’s special coo-ing baby, which in his mind, meant he was the bestest babbeh. One day, after playing with a few of his siblings in a vigorous game of ‘huggy-tag’, he had worked up quite the appetite. He walked over to his mother, who was already busy with feeding two other siblings, which were still just chirpy babies.
“Coo~ coo~, mummah! Chirp! Bestest babbeh am hung’y. Peep! Gib miwkies, nao,” he demanded with a confident smirk. His mother looks down with a frown.
“Nu, coo-in’ babbeh nee wai’ yu tuwn. Mummah awso tol’ coo-in’ babbeh nee tu stop cawwin’ sewf bestest babbeh, tuu. Mummah wubs hew coo-in babbeh, buh mummah wub aww hew babbehs da same,” she begins to reason with him. The colt begins to frown and argue.
“Buh-buh, mummah wub speshul coo~ babbeh! Peep! Wan miwkies!” He says with a stomp of his tiny hoof. His mother, growing increasingly irritated over the situation, leers down at him.
“Nu. Wait. Yu. Tuwn…” she says pointedly, before ignoring any more incessant bickering continuing to come from the foal. Realizing his pleas are falling on deaf ears, he begins to take matters into his own hooves.
The orange colt walks over to his sibling, and then lashes his gums at his sibling’s tail, grabbing it with as much force as he could leverage and begins to pull, although he’s not strong enough to actually pull his sibling away. The chirpy babbeh unlatches from its mother’s tit and begins chirping out in pain, before letting loose a torrent of scaredy poopies that get on the orange colt’s face.
“EEEK! Dummeh poopie! Peep!” The orange colt cries out, and begins wiping his face.
“STOP WITE NAO! BA’ BABBEH!” His mother shouts at him, but with one foal still nursing, and the other one supposed to be, she’s unable to get up and do anything herself.
After getting most of the poopy wiped off, he stares dagger at his sibling that inadvertently retaliated against him, and begins waddling towards his sibling’s face.
“Dummeh poopie on bestest! Chirp! Gib huwties!” The orange colt cries, and begins viciously smacking his brother’s head and muzzle. Well, as viciously as a newly walking-talking foal could, which is practically no damage. But to all of the fluffies around, it didn’t matter, as even the chirpy began chirping harder in supposed agony.
“CHIRP! PEEP! CHIRP! CHIRP!” It cried in between blows. As the orange colt loses himself in his fury, he’s taken by complete surprise when his father rushes in, and kicks the orange colt over. The orange colt, more scared than actually hurt, begins crying out over this “injustice.”
“Huuhuuhuu! Why gib babbeh huwties! Am onwy widdwe babbeh! Chirp! Sniffle bestest babbeh nee’ miwkies!” He cries while rolling back and forth, thrashing his hooves in anger. His father then rushes the colt, shoving his muzzle uncomfortably into his son’s, startling him further. “EEEEP!”
“NU MOWE CWYIN’,” his father snarls in his son’s face, shutting him up to quiet sobs from fear. “Yu am ba’ babbeh! Gud babbehs dun huwt odew babbehs! Gud babbeh’s dun caww ba’ namesies ow tawk bak tu mummah! Gud babbehs knu how tu wait dewe tuwn fow miwkies! Gud babbehs knu dewe awe nu bestest babbehs! An’ onwy gud babbehs get gud babbeh fings,” he starts to trail off, as he looks in the direction of ‘Big Daddeh’. “BIG DADDEH! BA’ BABBEH HEWE!” He shouts for him.
Over walks a middle aged man, with a portly belly and bald head, wearing glasses and a firm smile.
“What seems to be the problem here?” Big Daddeh asks.
“Big Daddeh, dis babbeh am ba’ babbeh. Babbeh caww sewf bestest babbeh, nu wait him tuwn fow miwkies, tawk backies tu mummah, an eben huwt him own bwudda! Nee’ sowwy boxie!” He told Big Daddeh bluntly.
There wasn’t any physical punishments here at Mummah’s Nursery. No sorry sticks, or spankings, or, god-forbid, pillowing. Other than the occasional light bop from the parents, or them breaking up a fight, only the sorry box is used. And honestly, it’s hardly ever used. Unfortunately though, the first day that the orange colt opened his eyes, he had seen another filly be subject to the sorry box. He still remembers a few days later how the filly cried all night long, and though he couldn’t see within the box, it frightened him to think that something inside the box might be causing her to cry all night. He remembers when she came out that she was so grateful to come out, but the other foals, and even his parents, wouldn’t really acknowledge her, and she even had to get her miwkies after everyone that day.
“Peep! Nu… nu-nu-nu, chirp! Babbeh am sowwy! Peep! Babbeh am gud!” The orange colt began to cry and beg, to no avail. Big Daddeh then bends down and picks him up by his scruff, which doesn’t necessarily hurt him, but is uncomfortable nonetheless. “Ba’ upsies!”
“I reckon yer right, buddy. A night in the sorry box should clear up his bad behavior,” he said flatly to the foal’s father, as he turned around and walked into the back room, with the orange colt in tow.
They make there way to the sorry box, which smelled like poopies and pee. Big Daddeh opens the sorry box up, and immediately clenches his nose.
“Phew! Dang, I dun forgot to clean this thing out. Didn’t think I’d hafta use it again so soon,” he says, as he looks inside it. He sees a now dried puddle of poop on one side, but luckily anything that was wet is now either dried up, or absorbed into the dried poopie pile. “Well, I can’t bring this out there smellin’ like this, but… I’m sure you’ll learn ya lesson all’s the same,” he tells the colt, before shoving him inside and closing the latch.
“Huuhuuhuu! Hewp! Hic sabe babbeh!” He cries out, but notices he doesn’t have much room to move. The sorry box is made for foals, and is made small enough that the only thing a foal can do is stand up, or sit and lie down, and besides three tiny breathing holes above, is completely enclosed once latched shut. He can’t even turn around, or get away from the poopies he’s beginning to notice under his hooves. “Huuhuuhuu! Babbeh nu wan be in poopies! Chirp! Hewp–BLERGH,” the foal begins to vomit, which unfortunately doesn’t have much room to go anywhere either, as it splashes off the wall and on to his face and front leggies. “Hic huuhuuhuu, babbeh maek sickie wawas… Chirp! Nee’ wickie cweanies! Peep!” He then tries wiping the vomit off his mouth, causing him to wipe the once dry poopies that were on his hooves to go inside his mouth, causing him to vomit once again, before slinking down into the puke and shit mixture beneath. “Huuhuu, babbeh num poopies! Huuhuu babbeh am sowwy! Nu wan be ba’ babbeh! Hic huuhuuhuu!”
The next morning, he remembers Big Mummah finally coming to get him out. He had hardly gotten any sleep throughout the night, instead crying, and getting sick through most of it. He was hungry, tired, and most of all filthy. He remembers the loud gasp she uttered when she unlatched and opened the sorry box top. She immediately ran off and chewed out her husband and business partner, as she could tell all of that waste didn’t just come from one foal, cueing her in to knowing that he didn’t clean the box from the previous time. Still, the colt had to finish his punishment.
She took him back into the safe-area, making him apologize, and so all the foals could see what happens to bad foals, with all of the foals gasping and keeping their distance from the poopy foal. She then gave him a bath, which even though wasn’t a punishment, he also hated. After that experience, the orange colt’s behavior changed completely. No longer did he strut around as the bestest. Instead, he had become more meek and humble, and a perfectly behaved foal.